TEEN: Dying cotten

[Squeaky the sixth]

My first fic.
(Links will come as I add chapters)
(Title should be Dying cottOn, sorry for the error)
Index.
Prologue
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6

(I may have more chapters, but this seems like a good amount.

Dying cotton
Prologue
He clutched his prize. He sat down on the branch and admires it, allowing the apple to be illuminate by the wondrous moon. Night time added a different air to the forest: different sounds, smells and sights.
The slashing of blades against rocks. The taunting waft of honey in the air. The flocks of murkcrow that spelt out territorial messages from honchcrow. The caught his eye again.
(That really is a beautiful moon)
The Whimscot, called Whirlsniff, took a bite out of the fruit. He savoured the food, knowing full well that it could be his last meal for at least a day. The contestant pangs of hunger that plagued him gave him a sense of futility. He couldn’t battle, meaning that he had to keep out of the of the more powerful Pokémon. Heck, he couldn’t even squirm through small gaps, such tasks causing such pain that he wondered often whether he was ill. Certainly his mane of hair was turning grey and becoming messy. It smelt horrible, no wonder not many Pokémon liked to go near him. He was getting old. The days of being a young and glamorous Whimscot were over, gone like a distant memory in the corner of his eye. Sure he had some good times, with his buddies, stealing jewels and living wildlife. He’d married and started a family with Flintal and they lived on the Skyridge plains for half a decade. He’d had a daughter and a son. All was happy, until disaster struck, grapping away his paradise in one swift and evil motion. He was still bitter about it to this day. On the plains he had a reputation then to earn him a good life. In noirbranch, he was just another leaf blowing in the breeze, something to be picked and admired, than thrown away.
(Better get going, the gangs will start fighting soon)
The last thing he need was to get into a fight. He started to walk weakly across the branch, gripping on another gnarled branch of his home and pulling himself up. After much effort and straining he managed to pull himself upwards to the tree top. A honchcrow was perched on the branch, an air of coolness around him.
(Drat)
“Um excuse me? Could you move just for a moment? I need to get inside my house,”
Daster looked at him, boring his eyes into Whirlsniff’s skull. Whirlsniff flinched away, half expecting his eyes to be gouged out by that intimidating beak.
“Take my advice little one, keep in your tree tonight. Why? ‘Cause tonight’s a big night, where new gangs a show their process. I like to think that each event will be one where everybody follows the rules. Let me be frank with you, there will be some pretty maddened up characters. The kind of bastards who would maul you for looking at em funny, just hide in your tree and don’t come out until morning,” Daster explained, shifting his feet and allowing Whirlsniff in.
With a caw, Daster flew off. Whirlsniff watched him as he become a black dot near the moon. His heart heavy with Daster’s news, he slipped through the hole to his house, fear hammering in his breast.

 

[Squeaky the sixth]

Chapter 1.

The noise was dreadful, a cacophony of snarls and slashing. He could hear the crackling of fire and some gang language piffle that he couldn’t understand. With a great groan, a tree was lifted from its roots and thrown across several metres. Whirlsniff sunk deeper into his covers. In truth, there was nothing to sink down into; all he had was a torn and ripped thin green sheet, With all the chaos outside, the walls to the tree suddenly felt slightly more feeble. What was stopping a stray thunderbolt from slicing his house apart?
(Event? Event! This is no event; this is bloody free for all!)
Every passing minute was one waiting in tense agony. The fighting seemed close, too close for comfort. Some more hair fell out from his mane. Maybe he was just getting old? Perhaps all this aches and pains were simply a natural part in aging? Suddenly, he vomited, spraying slightly hot glop over his face. His stomach felt like a fist had punched into it and was currently churning it like butter. He staggered up and vomited an impressive amount for somebody who was starving. A terrible, chilling thought struck him. He had no way of contacting the outside world; he was too poor to afford any type of communication. He could die here and nobody would know! His corpse would rot with flies swarming over him in their masses! He would be a piece of rubbish!
(Calm down, It’s just some vomit. I’ll see the local doctor in the morning)
There was a terrible sound, like claws on a blackboard, and he looked around. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest with fright. The wood on his wall was being torn apart, it’s skin being ripped apart more with even passing second.
“Don’t come in! I… have a weapon!” He shrieked, backing away.
(Well, they don’t need to know that I don’t have one.)
His wall was torn apart, and several Drillburs and an Exadrill burst through. Whirlsniff, began to charge up a solarbeam. Given the amount of sunlight, it would take him at least several minutes for him to charge up. The way the sea of claws around him moved in an unnerving manner. The group of Drillburr crept forward and he clamber onto the chest of draws.
“Pin him down!” Grunter, the Exadrill, commanded.
The Drillburr set about their task with frantic zeal, clambering upon the draws and swatting Whirlsniff off. In panic, he spat out several high speed and powerful seeds in a stream of floral machine gun fire. One Drillburr screeched and was knocked back, crashing into his pantry section. (Well pantry in the loosest sense of the word.) The other Drillburr backed away nervously. Making the sound true to his name, Grunter marched forward and raised his claws. Whirlsniff began to froth at the mouth as Grunter swatted him in the side of his face. Blood leaked from the wound and the Whimscot fell unconscious. He slid off the chest and Grunter let out a howl and signalled for his allies to clamber over. The Drillburr that had been on the receiving end of the seeding barrage, limbed over the rest of his friends following suit.
“Goggles!” Grunter grunted, stretching his arm out.
One of the Drillburs walked over to the goggles and picked them up. He placed them carefully in Grunter’s hand and the mole put them on. His field of vision was turned red as if somebody had poured watery blood over them. His eyes scanned Whirlsniff’s body for what he was looking for.
(Bingo)
Fiddling with the dials of on the lenses, he focused on Whirlsniff’s arm. The microscope glasses zoomed in on it, revealing the alien world on his arm. He looked around for something wrong. Something alien, small… Ah ha! There it was; a tiny mass of red blobs emitting several red pulse. This was bad. Very bad.
“He’s got the virus! Quickly, we need to get him to hospital!”
The Drillburr shuffled nervously not wanting to catch the virus. Grunter growled. Hastily, they clambered over and began to dig a pit. Grunter nodded and scooped Whirlsniff up, passing him to the four Drillburr.
“Follow my lead,” He said gruffly, leaping into the air.
His entire body spun around and became like a drill and he plunged down, boring down into the heart of the tree. Metres of tunnels appeared every second. The dirt stood no chance against the relentless assault. Not wanting to be left behind, two of the Drillburr began to drill rush after him, the others sprinting after them with Whirlsniff in their arms. Outside the tree, the “event” reached fever pitch.

Yeah, I can see that around seventy people have seen this, could I have constructive crit pleae? What I could improve on, what you would like to see and could you please answer the poll? Thanks

 

[Neltharion S. Deathwing]

"He clutched his prize. He sat down on the branch and admires it, allowing the apple to be illuminate by the wondrous moon. Night time added a different air to the forest: different sounds, smells and sights."

Rephrase:

"He clutched his prize, sat down on the branch and admires it, clearly allowing the apple to be illuminated by the lustrous moon. Night time gave the forest a different scent: different sounds, smells and sights."

"With all the chaos outside, the walls to the tree suddenly felt slightly more feeble. What was stopping a stray thunderbolt from slicing his house apart?"

Rephrase:

"With all the racket outside, the walls to the tree suddenly felt decrepit; for what can stop a stray thunderbolt from tearing his house apart?"

This might be a little bit trivial, but there are some spelling mistakes in the prologue. And your title, please fix it.

Other than the really few spelling mistakes, everything is fine. Imagery is the main focus here, and it's defined clearly.

 

[Squeaky the sixth]

Chapter 2 Summit

He felt like a god. He was standing on the highest peak of the tallest mountain. Swirls of clouds that were formed like a halo around the stone top only added to his ego. He peered down, the vast forests looking like mere dots. He was at least fifty thousand feet from the ground. Cindoulph the Infernape allowed himself a short chuckle. He had made it! Those flying types had nothing on him! He had endured it all; freak blizzards, rainstorms, fierce encounter. The image of him killing several Tyrouge with his intense heat power was still fresh in his mind. They were nothing but ignorant fools for trying to get in his way. His task was something of great importance. He did not have time to deal with lice!
(Enough of these thoughts! The emerald is what I really need. Rumoured to have been made by Rayquaza in the begin of time while the world was still a foetus!)
He walked over to the gem. It was floating above a podium shaped like a diamond, with two Xatu statues spreading their wings out as if to protect the gem. Hundreds of stone spires littered the floor between Cindoulph and hundreds of meters between his prizes. He used extremespeed, dashing faster than thunderbolt through the spires. Electricity began to charge around them, sending a message deep bellow the earth. He didn’t notice. Within seconds, he managed to reach the gem. Its radiance was nearly blinding. The green heart pulsated slowly.
“INTRUDER ALERT! WILL BE DESTORYED!” A loud metallic voice bellowed, the ground between the spires churning up.
Cindoulph sent several fireballs in into the haze around the hole. They slammed its target dead on. The haze cleared, revelling Registeel to be standing with its arm stretched out, taking the electrical charge from the spires. It absorbed the power into its body; making a faint yellow glow around it. Cindoulph snarled, before using U-turn. It was a bad move to use against a steel type, but it was the only move he could think of. Registeel simply raised its hand, erecting a spark barrier. He slammed into it, the electrical charge immobilising him. It raised its hand, slamming the electrically charged steel appendage down onto him. He was sent flying, pain filling his body. He landed with a heavy thud on the emerald’s podium. Yes! Now his task would be so much easier to complete. Before Registeel could attack again, he snatched the emerald from its podium. Registeel turned around slowly, it’s “eyes” flashing.
“LOCKING ON!” It screeched, sending a small round circle with a target sensor in the middle into Cindoulph.
Cindoulph slipped his prize into his bag, before leaning over the edge of the peak.
“ZAP CANNON. THERE WILL NOT BE ANY ESCAPE FOR YOU. YOU WILL BE ERATICATED!” Registeel screeched, sending a black orb with electricity swarming around it into him.
He jumped. Gravity took him as her prey, quickly luring him toward the ground. He fell through clouds and the sound in his ears was dreadful. The orb chased after him like a hound, weaving past a stunned Salamence. The dots slowly become more like forests and he could even see some Pokémon walking around. He needed to land in the right place; it was crucial to his plan. He focused, looking intently for a lake. Was that it? It couldn’t be! A lake that size, the legendary sapphire lake! Yet, as he got closer to it, the emerald began to act strangely. Before he could even consider what was happening, he was consumed by a green glow.
(What’s happening?)
He was helpless inside the orb as it locked-on to the lake. It left a trail of brilliant green behind it as it shot down like a shooting star. The orb chasing them died down. Inside the intense power of the emerald he felt helpless like a rabbit in an eagle’s talons. As his he plunged closer, a fact became clear.
(I am going to drown.)

Chapter 3 on the tablet.
Phobia floated elegantly above the tablet. She flexed her hands eagerly and the mouth on her belly opened, showing an internal abyss. Her one eye looked at the Whimscot tied to the tablet, still asleep. It was time for this one to go.
Sure people hated here for it, but she was a Dusknoir! She was supposed to do this! It was her instructions from Darkrai itself to sprit away anyone with virus! The virus had to be wiped out, no matter how many lives she had to take. She leaned over Whirlsniff and clamped his shoulders, sending energy into the tablet. Tentacles of shadow bound around him, rendering him helpless.
(What? What is going on?)
Whirlsniff awoke to the felling of his arms and leg being crushed. Phobia looked down at him and shook her head sadly. The mouth on her stomach then opened and she leant back. Whirlsniff could see a black void inside and his blood turn into a glacier. He felt himself being pulled into it.
“You!” He cried.
Phobia just carried on.
“Why? Why does everybody hate me? I’m just executing orders!” She shrieked, anger rising in her eerie voice.
With a shattering sound, he was ripped from the tablet. He was sucked partly into to Phobia’s maw, screaming for help.
“Just stop struggling!” She shouted, “It is badgering me,”
“Yeah? Well your about to get something a whole lot worse can irritation!”
A flaming bird slammed into Phobia, making her reel and spit out Whirlsniff. Daster winced as the recoil surged through him. Phobia then charged at Daster, her fist covered in frigid ice. Daster flew up and dodged it, causing Phobia to punch hopelessly at the air. Whirlsniff then got up and sent several sharp leaves flying at her. She grunted as the sliced across her. Daster then cloaked himself in a blinding light.
(That’s good little one. Keep her distracted.)
Phobia sent an orb of ghostly energy flying at Whirlsniff. The Whimscot pointed his finger at the air, making a barrier appear. The orb hit the barrier and dissipated. The light continued to shine around Daster.
“Just accept!!” Phobia shouted, sending a giant ghostly hand chasing after Whirlsniff.
The ethereal hand shattered the barrier and scooped Whirlsniff up. Phobia commanded the hand, her hands waving like a musical conductor. Suddenly, she became aware of a blinding light behind her. Daster slammed into her, the light around him surging through Phobia. The hand dissipated and Whirlsniff was dropped to the floor with a heavy thud! Daster then landed next to him, spreading his wings out. Phobia saw that she was outmatched.
“Humph. I will be back. You shall not escape me!”
Phobia faded away. Daster looked at Whirlsniff and smiled.
“Now little one, what was that about an incurable virus?”