Oneshot Contest Entries - Voting begins now!

[Ho-oh]

One-shot Contest Entries - The Reviewer's Choice​

Voting begins now - every vote counts!​

Attention!

I am proud to announce that this contest has so far gone quite smoothly. We've had our small setbacks, but in the end, we've finally done it!

So, after several minor delays, we now present to you, our awesome readers, all nine entries of BMGF's first major fanfiction contest!


As per the official contest plans, each entry will now be released to the public, our awesome readers, for judging!

The prize? The coveted Reviewer's Choice™ Award!


What is this "Reviewer's Choice™"? Simple.

This contest has four distinct awards. We have our main judge-chosen entries: the prestigious first-place gold, the excellent second-place silver, and the impressive third place bronze medals!

However, in addition to these, this contest also has the infinitely esteemed "Reviewer's Choice™" medal!

As you may know, the winner of the aforementioned is chosen through a complex - and yet simple - system of voting: the democratic system.

The entries are released, and out of these, each reader will pick their favorite of the nine. The results will then be added up and the entry with the highest score will be declared the winner.

Details are as follows:

Who: Who else? It's just you and the entries, baby! ;D

What: The Reviewer's Choice™ award banner is given to the author with the highest number of votes. It will be placed below the user information, underneath the gallery.

When: The deadline has not been finalized, although a month should be the minimum, or until the judges have released their reviews.

Where: The Internet!

Why: A wise man once said, "No, no, there is no why. Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions".

For all our hardworking young writers, you have completed this contest. Many will enter, few will win. Who will it be? It's all up to you, our awesome readers!


How: Readers will read every entry and proceed to vote on their favorite entry. Keep in mind - you will need to consider every aspect of the story. Votes that fail to do this will be rendered void.

Be sure to take this into consideration (however, you do not need to write much, just use it while reading and looking at the story, then write your thoughts based on that. Also, don't write out of ten, just name the story):

WARNING: TL;DR

Spoiler

A TL; DR in a nutshell section is as follows.



The good: What did you like about this story? List good points here.



The bad: What did you not like?



Summary: What you think about the entire story in a few sentences.



Plot
N/10: Your thoughts on the plot along with a rating.



Story: Good? Bad? Dull? This is how interesting the story is.



Theme: There should be a visible theme. Even if it's only a one-shot, there should be a theme. If not, then the story would have no point. Some themes are: war is bad, people aren't perfect, etc.



Hooks: The author should use "hooks" to make the reader want to keep reading. These include cliffhangers, foreshadowing, quests, mystery, suspense, and others to invoke curiosity and excitement. Too many is bad, however, especially since this is only a short story (however, this also applies for long stories). Check for that.



Components of a Plot: Exposition (beginning), rising action (events happening), climax (the final, huge wave that hits as a result of the rising action), falling action (things cool down; the aftermath), and finally the resolution, or dénouement (conclusion; e.g. in a tragedy did the main character kill herself?). This should be considered in conjunction with the prose. THE PLOT SHOULD BE SMOOTH.



Other aspects from judge's decision.



Character
N/10: Your thoughts on...
Presentation: How well the character is introduced, personality, occupation, other traits. If you use a canon character, KEEP HIM IN CHARACTER! If not, sorry. -a points!



Development: The character needs to change, learn, etc. A good story allows you to get to "know" the character.



Variety: This ain't the clone wars!



Grammar, Spelling, and Punctuation (GSP)
N/10: Graded on the following.
Spelling: Accuracy of words.



Grammar: Capitalization, proper usage of verbs, nouns, adjectives, etc. Also check for passive sentences.



Punctuation: Ties in with grammar, but should be considered by itself too. This is how well the author used quotation marks, exclaims, periods, question marks, etc.



Execution
N/10: Again, as follows.
Suspension of Disbelief: Normally you wouldn't believe something could travel faster than light without totally warping space, but of course, the author could explain that with technology that could hold a wormhole open to allow quick travel.
Basically, the author can convince you that events in the story are believable. This includes TV programs from that world, government policies, etc.



Descriptions: How well the author explained the scenes, actions, and setting. It immerses the reader. He is swept into the story, as if he were right there! However, a fatal flaw to this is as follows.



Prose: The author should make sure the style and/or prose should be fluid. Not too awkward, not too liquid, and NOT TOO COLORFUL! If the author uses too many adjectives to describe, this is purple prose. A big no-no. How dull is reading one adjective after another? (e.g. "Her long, brown hair was sprinkled with a myriad of tiny, silver droplets of rain. These ran down her graceful, swanlike neck in to her elegant dress, which was covered with many beautiful designs" BOR-ING!).



Dialogue: This is how well the author handled speech. Robotic dialogue is not good. Make people sound human: give 'em a brain! Additionally, the school bully shouldn't talk like a professor and vice versa.



Transitions, structure, starts: Tying in with the prose, sentences and paragraphs should be smooth and flowing, not awkward.



Originality/Innovation
N/10:
Clichés: A balance of cliché and original elements is ideal. Who likes a corny modern-day Disney movie? Or dare I say, Twilight?



Originality: Uniqueness; if this story is a rare gem in a sea of overused tropes and/or plots/plot devices. For example, Harry Potter has received criticism for being similar to Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, etc. This only results in the plot being extremely predictable and boring (i.e. gives you the "been there, done that" feeling).



Innovation: New ideas. Similar to originality, but just overall how creative the story is.



Entertainment And Enjoyment
N/10: How did YOU like it? This does not affect the final score.



The Bottom Line
N/10: THIS IS THE FINAL SCORE!



This is your conclusion. Summarize the good and bad, what you though should be improved, etc. Then give your rating. This is out of 10. Use careful consideration.

Many thanks to our participants, our judges, our supporters, our readers, and those who helped make this contest a reality.

And so, the time we've all been waiting for! The entries! Remember, every vote counts!


Ready?

Get set...

Go!

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number One: Two's Company

Silver sat in the corridor waiting for his father to return, absolutely outraged that this was happening soon after his return. Silver had essentially lived alone with his mother in Viridian City for a great number of years while his father, the great Giovanni, had been off being a criminal overlord. At the time, Silver’s parents had still been together, but his father never had time for the family, so they may as well have been separated. Eventually, Silver left home to go on a journey through Johto, a region that he had always idolised, mainly because it was far away enough that he could get away from his mother, but near enough that he could come crying to her if things went badly. It took Silver a while to get to Johto in the first place, even longer to actually obtain a Pokémon and then he spent a fair amount of time travelling through the region, but eventually, Silver returned and when he did, his father had retired from his criminal enterprises and disbanded Team Rocket. Not only that, but in the time Silver had been gone; Team Rocket had been reformed and disbanded all over again. Silver didn’t particularly care about the details of what happened regarding his father’s criminal organisation, he had just been glad to have him back.

All that happened just one month ago and then earlier this morning, all this peace was ruined when Giovanni received an urgent contact from an old colleague of his telling him that there was a great danger in the Goldenrod Underground, the HQ that they had been using, and that only Giovanni himself was powerful enough to have any hope at sorting it out. Silver knew that this was no false alarm either, as this colleague was one of the former Rocket Executives involved in the recent reformation of Team Rocket. Upon receiving the message, Giovanni had asked Silver and former Rocket Executive, Richard, to accompany him to Goldenrod City to deal with the problem. It was obvious why Giovanni had chosen these two people in particular. Silver had proven himself as a truly spectacular Trainer during his time away from home and was an extremely reliable back up to have. Richard, as previously stated, was a former Rocket Executive, and a loyal one at that, so loyal in fact, that in the time since Giovanni first disbanded Team Rocket, Richard became almost a family butler – and was happy to have that role too, not only that, but he was a powerful Trainer. If anything went wrong against this ‘great danger’, then Giovanni had ample back up. Not that he would need it, Silver considered himself to be one of the best Trainers there was and he had met only three Trainers in his life who he considered to have superior talent even to him, and his father was one of them, no matter what the danger, Giovanni was not going to lose.

Silver and Richard sat in silence for a few moments longer. It was obvious that they were both beginning to have slight doubts about Giovanni’s success which they had previously been so certain about. Silver couldn’t help but wonder why the three of them didn’t go in together and completely obliterate whatever this ‘great danger’ was – no matter how great this danger, it wasn’t going to be greater than the Giovanni, Silver, Richard trio. Silver began to speak when the door next to their seats cracked open, for a moment Silver thought it might be the deadly opponent that his father had been facing but when he looked up he saw the familiar face of Giovanni come out and smile reassuringly.

“You dealt with it, then?” Silver asked his father.

“Yes,” replied Giovanni, “It all went according to plan, it’s just us now.”

Silver didn’t ask what his father faced when he was in the room, he was just happy to have him back, the three of them left the Underground and headed back towards the station, where they’d get the first Magnet Train back into Kanto and be back home in Viridian in no time.

************************************************** *******************

That morning was like any of the mornings Giovanni had experienced for the last month. He woke up to a loving wife, who had become all the more beautiful in the time he had spent away from her; perhaps it’s true that absence makes the heart grow fonder after all. Not only that, but he woke with the knowledge that his strong, independent son was in the next room, he had never been as proud of another human being than he was of his son, Silver. Giovanni knew that one day, perhaps not all that far away, Silver would surpass him in strength and, if all went to plan, he would use that strength for better things than Giovanni did. Giovanni knew that he was happier than he ever had been in his life and his only regret was that he didn’t make it happen sooner.

However, that morning he received an urgent communication that would change everything. The message came from Professor Ivan Cornell, former Head of Research and Development of Team Rocket and one of the three Executives who assisted in its revival in Johto. The message explained that he had developed something horrible for use in the war against the world that Team Rocket had planned while it was at its peak in Johto, however after being beaten by a young boy, the Executive in charge of the operation had, for reasons understood only by the leader himself, called it all off, leaving Professor Cornell’s horrible project useless. Cornell went on to explain that he could not bring himself to simply destroy that which he had spent so long to create, so he simply allowed it to live on in a cryogenic chamber, in the hope that one day it would be useful. Unfortunately, rather than becoming useful, it somehow managed to free itself from its chamber and, as super soldiers were prone to do, it attempted to kill everyone in the building. Luckily, very few people remained in the Underground at that time, but it did successfully kill a fair number of Grunts before Cornell was able to lock it in one of the Underground chambers. Cornell’s message went on to detail how he could not imagine anyone but Giovanni himself taking on the beast he created with even a glimmer of hope for success and how if left unchecked, this monster was sure to escape and ravage destruction across the land. Giovanni had half a mind to ignore the problem and hope it went away, but decided that he had to accept responsibility for it – it was him who originally founded Team Rocket all those years ago, if he had not done that, then this would never have happened.

Giovanni made preparations and that day asked his son, Silver and his one faithful Executive from his Team Rocket days, Richard to accompany him to the Goldenrod Underground where he would take care of the problem. He requested that they wait outside and only intervene if absolutely necessary, Giovanni was a proud man and he was determined to clean up his own mess. With the aid of the Magnet Train, it didn’t take very long at all to get into Goldenrod and they were at the door of the Underground within two hours of leaving.

“Wait here,” instructed Giovanni to both Silver and Richard.

Neither of them said anything in response, it was obvious that if they had said anything it would’ve been an objection, but it was obvious also that neither of them dared to contradict the great Giovanni and so he walked in alone, as planned.

“Hello?” called out Giovanni when he entered the room, not really sure what he was looking for, “Is anyone there?”

Giovanni had his hand gripped tight around his Rhyperior’s Poké Ball, ready to send out his first Pokémon at a moment’s notice, when he heard a chilling voice replying to his call.

“Greetings,” came the voice, “I wondered how long it would take you.”

“Who are you?” demanded Giovanni, unable to see his opponent due to the lack of light in the Underground.

When Giovanni did see who was with him, it chilled him to the core, out of the shadows stepped his exact double, a second Giovanni.

************************************************** *******************

Professor Cornell stood by the cryogenic chamber and once again impatiently explained the project to his colleague, the new head of Team Rocket, Keane.

“You’ve said many times that you can’t wait until Giovanni returns and relieves you of the stresses of leadership, correct?” asked Cornell, rhetorically.

“Yes, that’s correct,” answered Keane, still unsure of what Cornell was suggesting.

“Well I’ve solved that problem,” explained Cornell, “In this chamber lies for all intents and purposes, our former leader, Giovanni.”

“But he’s also a Pokémon?” quizzed Keane.

“Yes,” replied Cornell impatiently, “He was constructed from strands of Giovanni’s DNA and the bodies of twenty Ditto – so while he has the brains of our former leader, he has the ability to change into any Pokémon, thus making him as intelligent, but much more powerful than Giovanni himself ever was.”

“But isn’t that exactly what a Ditto can do?” questioned Keane, still failing to see how this project was at all worth the funds he had channelled into it, Cornell’s ‘super soldier’ had cost Team Rocket so much that unless it was literally able to dominate the entirety of Johto for them, they were sunk, so Keane wasn’t particularly pleased with the fact that Cornell had managed to piss away all of that money on reinventing Ditto.

“No!” cried Cornell, now becoming extremely frustrated, “This creature has Giovanni’s brain! It is far superior to the intelligence of a Ditto, which requires constant instruction to be of any use! Giovanni was an expert on Pokémon, which means he will be an expert on the usage of their moves and will be able to use them with frighteningly effectively without having to go through the pain of shouting orders and thus revealing his plan to his opponent. Not only that but because his body is made from multiple Ditto, he can transform parts of his body at a time and not the entirety, meaning he could, if he so desired, transform himself into a mixture of twenty different Pokémon at once!”

“And at the same time,” checked Keane, “He would still be the Giovanni we know and love?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Cornell, ecstatic that his leader finally understood his project.

“I finally understand…” said Keane, waiting for the smile on Cornell’s face, just so he could turn it into a grimace, “I finally understand why Giovanni left Team Rocket! I can’t believe he put up with idiots like you on a day to day basis! If one more thing goes wrong today, Team Rocket is over – and this time it’ll be for good!”

Cornell didn’t even bother trying to convince Keane to take this statement back; he didn’t think it was at all necessary. Eventually, Keane would be convinced of his project’s brilliance and he would be forced to eat his words, just so long as nothing else bad happened that day, there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, later that day, one of the poorly thought out plans masterminded by Keane, who in Cornell’s opinion was excellent at rallying the troops but wouldn’t be choice number one for thinking, was brought down by a ten year old boy with no help whatsoever and Keane decided that enough was enough and called for a second disbandment of Team Rocket and this time, no one was willing to take his place… The project that Cornell had worked so hard to create was going to go to waste.

************************************************** *******************

“So they cloned me?” checked Giovanni, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Not quite cloned,” answered the doppelganger, “But close enough.”

“Alright, well unfortunately for you,” stated Giovanni, trying to play it as coolly as possible, “There’s only room for one Giovanni in this world, so you’re gonna have to go.”

“Oh, am I?” responded the clone.

“We can come to an arrangement, I suppose,” reasoned Giovanni, “If you don’t resist, I can let you live. It will be under constant supervision and you will only rarely be able to leave the house, but you won’t be a prisoner as such. You’ll be allowed human contact – both my wife, my son, my former Executive and myself will gladly indulge you in conversation on a day to day basis and we’ll provide you with three home made meals a day.”

“That sounds like a lovely arrangement, but I’m afraid I have my sights set a little higher,” retorted the clone.

“I thought you’d say as much,” replied Giovanni with a smile, he held out Rhyperior’s Poké Ball in front of him and continued speaking, “I can see you don’t have any Pokémon on you, I can tell this sort of thing at a glance. That means that I could kill you right now and you couldn’t do a thing to defend yourself. Last chance, I’ll still let you come with me peacefully if you surrender now.”

Giovanni smirked to himself, there was absolutely no way his doppelganger was going to get out of this one, he had six strong Pokémon with him and two partners armed to the same degree waiting outside while this clone was totally unarmed. Cornell’s warning was absolutely ridiculous, this guy wasn’t a danger, he was pathetic and yet, in response to Giovanni’s threat, the clone laughed. Giovanni sensed something wasn’t quite right, but too late, his clone’s arm suddenly transformed into a tentacle, reached out, grabbed Rhyperior’s Poké Ball and slung it to the floor. Once the Poké Ball was on the floor, the clone changed his arm back to normal and transformed his foot, possibly for irony, into that of a Rhyperior and used it to crush Rhyperior’s Poké Ball, killing Giovanni’s first ever Pokémon without a second’s hesitation.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not as noble as you,” announced the clone, “I’m not going to let you surrender and just like I did then, I’m going to take advantage of every tiny mistake, every moment of hesitation, every flicker of weakness and I’m going to use them to bring you to your knees, weeping like a child… And then I’m going to kill you.”

“But… why?” asked Giovanni, struggling to understand his doppelganger’s motives, surely he gained little advantage by killing Giovanni?

“As you said,” replied the clone, “There’s only room for one Giovanni in this world, so you’re gonna have to go.”

************************************************** *******************

Cornell sat in the Underground, in an isolated cell, alongside his project’s cryogenic chamber.

‘Would it be so bad,’ thought Cornell, ‘If I let him out… Just to meet him?’

Cornell concluded that it would, he had created the most dangerous weapon in the world and had given it the brain of a criminal mastermind – he couldn’t even think of anything more dangerous than that. But still, he wanted his creation to have a moment’s breath, he could open up the chamber just a crack so he could speak to him and then close it again before he had a chance to escape. In fact, Cornell was sure he could fix some sort of vice to the chamber, making it impossible to open past a certain width. In fact, Cornell had one in his tool box, which he just happened to have with him. Cornell attached the vice to the chamber and opened it up, just as much as the vice would allow, which wasn’t more than three or four inches.

“Hello?” greeted Cornell.

“Am I… alive?” came the response.

“Yes,” answered Cornell, “Did you think you weren’t?”

“I… thought I died…” answered the clone, “The last thing I remember is giving a DNA sample… And since then… I’ve been dreaming… It was like I died… So I’m alive?”

“That’s right,” responded Cornell with a smile, he couldn’t believe he was actually speaking to his creation right now, he felt so lucky.

“Then I’m going to keep it that way,” stated the clone.

“Wh-what do you mean?” questioned Cornell, the clone’s statement had sounded like a threat. Cornell had no idea why it would threaten its creator, but apparently, it was completely willing to.

“The reason I felt dead…” retorted the clone, “Is because life wasn’t given to me as soon as I was created, was it? I’ve been in this cryogenic chamber for a long time, haven’t I?”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t-” babbled the Professor.

“Don’t try to cover it up!” snapped the clone, in a tone that made Cornell feel like he was back in the room with Giovanni, like he had been all that time ago, “I can see what you’re thinking… So, I understand I can only get out of here if you release the vice on the chamber, correct?”

“Y-yes,” answered Cornell sheepishly, his ecstasy had become fear, he could not believe what he had created and, honestly, he was starting to regret it, he built up the courage to continue talking, “But I won’t do it!”

“I think you will,” responded the clone, laughing.

Cornell stood firm, but of what felt like their own volition, his arms began to move and unfasten the vice.

“Are- are you doing this?” demanded Cornell.

“Well who else would it be?” smirked the clone.

Before long the vice was completely unfastened and the clone was lifting the lid of the cryogenic chamber. Cornell knew that nothing he could do would save his life if his creation wished to take it, but he could still save the lives of others. Cornell had never been an ethical man and throughout his life had caused the deaths of many people, but he had always wanted his last action to be one for the good fight, so he took his emergency contact device out of his inner pocket. In the heyday of Team Rocket, every Executive had carried one of these, but they were all destroyed or lost, making contact with Giovanni absolutely impossible. Cornell had always claimed that he had never had one as he never had need for one, being constantly by Giovanni’s side, but this was a lie. In truth, Cornell had simply not wanted to use the device to bother Giovanni, suspecting that if he did, Giovanni would destroy his own and then when a real emergency showed itself, he would have no way of contacting Giovanni and this investment proved worth while. Cornell began typing out a warning message to Giovanni on the device, trying to tell him everything that happened, but before he had typed two words, Giovanni’s menacing figure was standing above him.

“What are you doing?” demanded the clone.

“N-nothing,” answered Cornell, in a feeble attempt to keep his life, “Please! I created you! Have mercy!”

“Mercy is for the weak,” responded the clone, he then looked at the device in Cornell’s hand, “I will take this though.”

Cornell stood, paralysed with fear as the clone removed the device from Cornell’s hand, raised his own hand, transforming it into a claw as he did so and then slashed across his creator’s stomach. Cornell began bleeding profusely through the large hole in the front of his stomach, dying a slow and painful death, he died knowing that he was right about the power of his creation all along; the thing he was wrong about was the assumption that they would be able to control it.

************************************************** *******************

Giovanni had no time to mourn the loss of his first ever Pokémon, he could still save the rest of his Pokémon and, more importantly, himself. Giovanni thought about the Pokémon he had with him; Tyranitar, Nidoking, Nidoqueen, Dugtrio and Gliscor. He could easily send out all four of them, but that would only heighten the possibility that he would make a mistake or oversight, he couldn’t watch all four at once. Instead, Giovanni decided that he would send out three, that seemed like a number he could watch simultaneously, he chose Nidoking and Nidoqueen as they were very similar Pokémon and could potentially be ordered simultaneously and to go with them he chose Dugtrio, his weakest Pokémon, so that if anything went wrong, recovery was still possible.

Giovanni ordered Dugtrio to use Dig to create an element of surprise for when it surfaced and ordered Nidoking and Nidoqueen to attempt Fissure attacks. Both Fissure attacks were inaccurate and the clone laughed, quietly first, but growing into a highly audible laugh. Giovanni thought at first he was laughing at the inaccuracy of Fissure, but then he began to transform. The clone became a Gliscor, not at all unlike the one in a Poké Ball on Giovanni’s belt and then Giovanni realised why his clone was really laughing, he had outwitted Giovanni once again. In the form of Gliscor, Giovanni’s clone used an Earthquake attack, which immediately knocked out Dugtrio, as it was dealt extra damage due to being underground and knocked both Nidoking and Nidoqueen to their feet, dealing them huge amounts of damage due to the super effective hit.

‘Damn,’ thought Giovanni, ‘He’s constantly outwitting me… And yet, he is me…’

Then the awful realisation hit Giovanni, he gave the DNA that they must have used for this clone over two years ago and that was the only difference between their minds – the clone was younger, and perhaps Giovanni was getting older, less able to think and less able to react. It was true that while Giovanni was finding ever more grey hairs in his head and wrinkles on his face, his doppelganger appeared to be suffering from none of this, his face looked wrinkle free and his hair was thick and black. Giovanni had aged a lot in the past two years, could family life really be more stressful than being a full time criminal mastermind? It was looking less and less likely that Giovanni was going to leave this room alive, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He could call Silver and Richard in, but that wasn’t why he’d called them there, he intended to clean up his own mess or die trying and if he did die, it would fall to Silver and Richard to try and contain that which he could not, but not before.

“Ice Beam!” shouted Giovanni, ordering both of his active Pokémon at once.

Both Nidoking and Nidoqueen reacted to this order in spectacular reaction time, but not as spectacular as the clone, who transformed himself into a Cloyster, turning his double vulnerability to Ice into a double resistance. Then, without more than a second’s delay, Giovanni’s clone launched a Surf attack, knocking out Nidoqueen and brining Nidoking down to a pitiful amount of health, but this didn’t have to be it, Nidoking still had one shot at glory.

“Nidoking!” yelled Giovanni at the top of his voice, “Toxic!”

Nidoking leapt forwards and moved faster than the clone could react and hit him whilst he was still in the form of a Cloyster, causing him to become badly poisoned. The clone retaliated by using Clamp on Nidoking and subsequently knocking him out, but it didn’t matter, the damage was done. The clone changed back into his original form, that of Giovanni and he looked physically sick, Nidoking really had done his job.

“Wait,” said the clone as Giovanni went to his belt to send out his next Pokémon, “Before the battle continues, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” asked Giovanni, not taking his hand off of Gliscor’s Poké Ball.

“You were brought here under false pretences,” conceded the clone.

“What do you mean?” questioned Giovanni.

“Professor Cornell didn’t send the message summoning you here,” explained the clone, “In fact, he was already dead by the time that message was sent. It was me who sent the message.”

“But… why?” quizzed Giovanni in confusion.

“So that I could destroy you,” stated the clone, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Giovanni didn’t reply to this, he simply looked in horror at the clone – it was him, but so much more.

“Allow me to elaborate,” continued the clone, apparently requiring no input from Giovanni whatsoever, “I have become, physically, the most powerful man in the world. No one could match me, I have the power to turn into almost any Pokémon in an instant, but I think if enough powerful Trainers came up against me, I may be overcome. Perhaps even if a few powerful Trainers backed up by a huge number of weaker Trainers would be able to overcome me, who knows. That’s where you come in. You can reform Team Rocket at the click of your fingers, things fell apart beneath Keane because he was young, inexperienced and rash, but we’re not like that. We’re in a different class of intelligence than him, he was an excellent Executive, but a poor leader, if you, or I, were to go on a recruitment drive for Team Rocket to reform, we’d have hundreds of applicants within the hour and that’s what I plan to do. I am going to dominate the world, with the help of Team Rocket, I will be completely unstoppable. I may even be able to come face to face with Legendary Pokémon and thus gain the ability to become them, making me even more impossibly formidable than I already am. But you stand in the way of that, as long as the real Giovanni exists, I cannot become Giovanni and that is why you must die.”

“I understand,” replied Giovanni coolly, “What you’re saying is it’s not just my life that’s at stake, it’s that of millions of people around the globe. That just makes it all the more important that I win this fight.”

Giovanni was pleased with himself, he had managed to keep his clone talking, thus allowing the poison to take greater and greater effect, and it was obvious that it was starting to hurt him. Giovanni thought about delaying sending out his next Pokémon, but then he thought that might be pushing things, his clone did say he would take advantage of every mistake to crush him and he did openly say that he intended to kill him. Giovanni went to send out Gliscor, but then he saw something so disheartening he couldn’t help but stop completely dead. His clone transformed into a Chansey and used Heal Bell, clearing up the poison, followed by Softboiled, restoring the health which Giovanni’s Pokémon had worked so hard to whittle away.

Giovanni felt like breaking down and crying, but he knew he couldn’t, if he did, that would be the last thing he did and if these were going to be his last moments, he’d live them with pride. He had to come up with a plan, something which Giovanni was very good at, but only ever from positions of pre-existing superiority, Giovanni rarely considered himself the underdog. There was only one Trainer he had ever considered his superior and even he would have been totally outclassed by his current opponent, the only way Giovanni could win was if he was tactically perfect. Instead of sending out Gliscor, as he had originally intended, Giovanni decided to send out Tyranitar. Hopefully, his clone would pounce upon Tyranitar’s double weakness to Fighting, little would he know that Giovanni would still have one hand on Gliscor’s Poké Ball, ready to pounce on him with a Flying type attack. If all went to plan, it would just be a matter of maintaining the advantage from that point, which with the wide variety of Types which the two Pokémon could deal with between them, shouldn’t really be too much trouble.

Predictably, as soon as Tyranitar was on the field, the clone took the form of a Machamp, the strongest Fighting Pokémon and began striking at Tyranitar with an awesome Cross Chop, but before the attack landed, Giovanni sent out Gliscor who immediately intervened with an Aerial Ace attack, knocking the clone off his feet. As he hit the floor, the clone transformed again, this time becoming a Weavile, clearly ready to strike back against Gliscor with an Ice attack, but Giovanni didn’t give him that chance.

“Stone Edge!” shouted Giovanni to Tyranitar.

Tyranitar ran towards its opponent and attack brutally, preventing him from standing once again. Again, the clone transformed, this time becoming a Golem, probably in an attempt to take advantage of Tyranitar and Gliscor’s respective Ground and Rock weaknesses, but Giovanni was going to make him regret it.

“Double Earthquake!” shouted Giovanni, Gliscor’s Earthquake would probably cause a fair amount of damage to Tyranitar, but the two together might just be enough to take out the clone.

Tyranitar and Gliscor obediently carried out their master’s orders, knocking the clone to the floor, leaving him lying still and unmoving, he began to transform once again, but this time into the all too familiar form of Giovanni.

“I think that’s it,” stated Giovanni calmly, he then turned to Tyranitar, “Pick him up and return him to the cryogenic chamber, where he belongs.”

Tyranitar obediently picked up the clone, slinging him over its shoulder and began to trundle towards the miraculously intact cryogenic chamber.

Giovanni dusted himself off and returned Gliscor to his Poké Ball, happy that he had finally defeated his most fearsome opponent to date, when suddenly he heard a roar, it was obvious that it was Tyranitar that made the noise, but it wasn’t his usual cry, it sounded like a screech of terror. Giovanni turned to see the clone, once again in the form of a Machamp, back on his feet, slugging Tyranitar and knocking it to the ground.

“No!” yelled Giovanni at the top of his voice, he could not believe this was happening, he had lost yet another Pokémon.

“No mercy!” shouted the clone, transforming back into a Weavile whilst doing so. The clone ran over Tyranitar’s body, running the blade of one hand across it, slicing it clean in half. That was a second Pokémon that had been killed rather than just knocked out, today Giovanni had lost his two most powerful Pokémon, including his first Pokémon ever and still his opponent showed no sign of slowing down.

Giovanni grabbed Gliscor’s Poké Ball back of his belt, but it was too slow, he couldn’t compete with the speed of a Weavile. The clone shot an Ice Beam, frighteningly accurately at the Poké Ball in Giovanni’s hand, thankfully this time it was not destroyed, but it was frozen solid, making it entirely unusable, Giovanni was now completely defenceless.

Giovanni was a proud man and did not hold his arms up or attempt to defend himself in anyway as his opponent, in the form of a Weavile, sprinted up towards him, angling blades towards his chest and neck. Giovanni knew that he didn’t have long left and he intended to live out the short remainder of his life with dignity, however he could not help but flinch as his opponent stormed towards him and flung a blade right up to his face, stopping only centimetres before it cut his face apart. When Giovanni opened his eyes he saw the familiar figure of himself standing in front of him.

“I thought I would give you the honour of being killed by a human,” explained the clone, “You’ve been a lot of fun, but I’m afraid your time is up.”

“I thought as much,” replied Giovanni.

“Do you have any last requests?” asked the clone.

“I would appreciate it if you could give my surviving Pokémon to my son, Silver,” answered Giovanni honestly, “But I suppose you’ll want to use them?”

“No,” replied the clone, “I can do that. Your Gliscor has died of hypothermia, but I’ll give Silver your Nidoking, Nidoqueen and Dugtrio. Is that all?”

“Sometimes…” responded Giovanni, “Mercy is worthwhile.”

“Incorrect!” shouted the clone in response, Giovanni’s two or three years of seniority obviously made a surprising amount of difference, but then that’s not all that surprising, Giovanni did recall being a very angry man when he was the leader of Team Rocket. The clone transformed his right arm back into the blade it had just been and looked Giovanni in the eye.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way for you,” said the clone, truly apologetic and stabbed Giovanni through the stomach, the clone held his blade in place for a few seconds until he felt the last of Giovanni’s life pass out of his body. He picked up the three Poké Balls on Giovanni’s belt, put them on his own and strolled out of the room as if nothing had happened.

As he walked out of the room he caught the eye of his son, Silver, who looked not only physically older than when he had last seen him, but also mentally, the boy had grown a lot and the new Giovanni had missed it all, but there was going to be time to catch up and he would ensure that his son would be living a life of luxury before long.

“You dealt with it then?” asked the boy.

“Yes,” replied the man who was now Giovanni, “It all went according to plan, it’s just us now."

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Two:

Their shill cries ring throughout the night when the sun ducks down beyond the horizon. People think that they do it for fun, though they don't know how wrong they are. Being able to communicate with ghost Pokémon like I am able to do, I have been told by they themselves that their cries are of that of sadness and anguish, being heard through the night and by those who dare listen.

Considering who it is I am and the abilities that I boast, I should not be bothered so much by the cries of the Misdreavus that lurk the darkness. However... it seems that it's not longer just myself that they bother – the residents of Ecruteak is a given... but the cries have also been bugging those who I call my friends. The ghost Pokémon that reside within the remains of the old Tin Tower. Many people have been brushing aside their odd behaviour... but I know better.

Their shrieks tell stories of their past and memories. They're all such painful things to be hearing... but to be shrieking? I'm sure that the Misdreavus are in far more pain than we humans can really imagine. It seems that their cries is for both Pokémon and human not to repeat the mistakes that have been made... the mistakes that they have witnessed. I've tried telling the people of Ecruteak of this very thing... but word can only get out so far before it falls merely on deaf ears and no longer continues.

The ghost Pokémon that live here... that live in other regions... they've seen more than what I or any other human could have possibly seen in the lifetime that we've lived compared to theirs. Even though I am titled the Mystic Seer of the Future... that's just it... the future. It's the truth. Though I try and look back, I am not able to see the past as clearly as I would like. How unfortunate this is for me... how unfortunate indeed.... I would love to aid these Pokémon and what it is that their memories have brought back to the surface, though being how it is that I have not been able to experience what it is that they would like to tell us all, I fear that I would only increase their wails and cries instead of sooth them.

Looking out the window of the place I like to call home, I gave a long exhale and then closed my eyes. It was late... but the cries of the Misdreavus kept me awake and thinking more about what it was that I could possibly do for them that may aid and calm them. I would like to think that I was normally good with Pokémon of the ghost-type considering who were my friends and partners.

The temperature dropped in the room and I turned my head to have my gaze meet with that of the Gengar that accompanied me just about everywhere I go. The sinister grin that it usually sported was gone and matched the gaze that he was giving me. Shifting from my sitting position to face him, I furrowed my brow and gave him a stern look.

“What is it, Gengar?” I asked, awaiting his response.

Shifting his gaze from me to the window, he gave a rather sullen response, “the other Haunter and the Gastly have been trying to talk with them....” He averted his gaze back to me for a moment and then closed his eyes in thought. I had to admit... this was a rather rare sight to behold... especially from a Pokémon such as Gengar. Normally so unfazed by anything and going out there to have fun... it just proved the seriousness of the situation that the Misdreavus were causing with their shrieked stories of their seemingly horrid past. It must have acted much like a Perish Song attack would to the other Pokémon for Gengar to be taking this into deep consideration.

Giving a slight nod, I shifted my own gaze to the wooden floors and then propped my elbows on my thighs as I closed my eyes. People thought it strange that I could communicate so well with ghost Pokémon – I tell everyone that asks that it just comes from practice... however, the truth remains that it's been a gift ever since I was I was a child.

Feeling the temperature waver for a moment as Gengar moved to leave, I spoke up. “Wait....”

Gengar stopped from disappearing back out and into the night. It was oh-so easy to tell when they were nearby since their bodies acted as a heat-sink.

“Tell me...” I started, looking back up and giving Gengar a look. “Why is it that the Misdreavus warn us of what events that have gone on so long ago? Surely you would know having been around here longer than myself or others. Do you know what it is they speak of?”

Silence rose through the air – another thing I, myself, found to be rather odd of my companion. I watched him as he turned his back to me, and even though he didn't have to, his body heaved with a sigh. At that, the temperature in the air quickly dropped and then went back to what it was. I gave a slight shiver at that – being as it was summer and I took to wearing the proper attire for the season.

“You know of the story of the Tin Tower, Morty...” was Gengar's response, actually using my name – a surprise that was. He turned to face me again and then looked back out the window as another shriek tore through the air outside. I nodded to him as he turned his attention back to me to let him know that I had acknowledged his question.

“Of course... it's been a story that's been passed down for generations...” I replied, looking back down to the ground. “Is there something that's been erased from those stories that the Misdreavus have been trying to tell?”

“Not just from the events from the Tin Tower back then...” Gengar said, hovering into the air and nearing the window. I watched as the glass fogged up due to the quick change in temperature at that area and then turned my gaze back up to him. I was curious to know... this conversation had never been brought up before – and even my own Misdreavus friend had denied me what I wanted to know, merely telling me to listen closely to what the others had to say. I had tried, that was for certain – but who can stand such screeching?

“You know that what's told in the stories are true...” Gengar continued, shifting his gaze back to looking out the window. “The beasts watch over both man and Pokémon... watching till both can someday become one. It's said that when that day finally comes... then Ho-Oh will return....”

“I know all of that!” I replied, starting to grow a little irritated that he was repeating things that I've already come to hearing. It was different for me, yes. I'm normally good about keeping myself calm and rational... but this has just been going on for too long. I've had enough....

“Just... enlighten me to the other past events that went on...” I said in a more calm tone and sitting up straighter.

Silence rose through the air... it was eerie in a sense... and for myself to even be admitting that.... The bonds that I shared with ghost Pokémon and my innate ability to understand them, I had come to not being so disturbed or frightened by the ghosts of Ecruteak. However... there was still always the playful natures that the Gastly and its evolution line seemed to uphold.

It took a moment, though Gengar finally responded, “the time when the original Tin Tower got burned down.... The fact seemed to have been erased from the stories.... However....” Gengar took to closing his eyes and then his body heaved with another sigh and I shivered once again.

“Go on...” I pressed, reaching over and grabbing my light blue and yellow long sleeved shirt and putting it on.

“However it seems that if humans are still greedy like they were back then... it seems that man and Pokémon could never become one as the beasts and Ho-Oh is waiting for.” Gengar folded his arms over his chest and shifted his gaze up to the pale moon that shone against the velveteen sky.

I couldn't help but to feel let down by that statement. It had been a dream of mine to meet Ho-Oh.... Just once... if even for a brief moment, I don't care. Hearing that from Gengar... I don't want to admit it, but he's right. With the organizations out there that want to capture Pokémon and utilize their abilities for their own personal reasons... there was no way that Pokémon could ever truly become 'one'. But... we can all still hope. Being the mystic seer of the future... even that is a blur to myself – and, as much as I dislike using this word due to how powerful it can be – I hate it.

“The Misdreavus... they don't want to see any further bloodshed of either human or Pokémon...” Gengar continued. “They can't seem to erase the memories from then... and even though I and the other ghosts of the Burned Tower still have the memories – it was taught that we kept to the comedy and funner things in our time than hang onto the pain from then.”

“Interesting...” I commented, looking down and adjusting my headband. “So... the misconceptions of people thinking that the Misdreavus pull on their hair or shriek in the night...”

“It's really just them trying to get your attention...” Gengar finished.

“But due to the fact that they're ghosts... people flee instead of stick around...” I said, giving a slight sigh. “I wish I could help them in some fashion... help them without getting toned out after so long....”

“I will do my best to assist in any way that I can...” Gengar turned his attention back to me and then furrowed his brow a little more. “But... there's only so much that I and the others can do before it's left up for man to act on their own so that history doesn't repeat itself.” And with that, Gengar faded from the room, leaving me sitting on my couch and alone.

The thoughts definitely weren't ones that I wanted to be mulling over. However... again, Gengar was right. If no action was to be taken, and soon... then humankind would eventually destroy itself and Pokémon in the process. That... was a future that I never want to see coming to be....

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Three:
Downfall Of A Master


I’ve always wondered how I would feel in this moment. How would I feel when I’m so close to it? One step away, so close I can touch it if I just outstretch my arm… and I feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

It’s ironic really. All my life I’ve had a goal- a purpose. My priorities have always been set straight. And I dedicated everything I had to reaching the next gym, the next League, the next title… the next stepping stone.

Like a shooting star, cutting the soft dark veil of the night sky, my goal has always showed me the way. And following its sparkling, luring trail, I had eyes only for it… blind for the countless opportunities for a better life I’ve missed.

It’s neither money nor riches I’m talking about. No, these things were always too… trivial for me. It was always about the recognition. About the battle.

The dark stifling room around me is like a trap. The freshly-painted silver walls seem to be crawling closer and closer, and I see the faces again…every single one I’ve caught. They lean towards me with sinister smiles, revealing their razor sharp teeth… and their eyes! Like thousands of burning crimson knives stabbing me again, and again…and again. They were always my greatest fear- those blood red eyes…a never-ending inferno, a twisted vortex of hate and fire, an eternal storm of fear… and in the eye of the storm- darkness…

And the darkest night paled in comparison…

I’m alone again… and the twisted abominations- born by my own sick mind, by my own actions- start to whisper… And their lisping- like a hundred whips of fire, like a thousand thorns of revenge- pierce my flesh…slowly. They know I have nowhere to run…Not that I want to, for that matter. I’m sick of running…but I fear death.

Their deranged whispers crawl under my skin, reminding me of what I have become. As the faces lean closer, their lisping turns into cries… into curses. The banshees swirl around me, their cries resonating in my body… and the old scars on my back, the wounds I have long forgotten, open… and they remind me of the debt I have failed to repay.

As the screams get louder and louder, my torturers- my Erinyes- dance their blood-chilling dance around me. Faster, and faster… and faster. Until only one thing remain- the eyes. And from these dreadful bloody rubies, piercing my very soul, erupts an inferno… Beautiful and terrifying at the same time, the flames soon become a vortex… and as the raging maelstrom of fire engulfs me, I fall…

And only darkness remains…

Self removed from oneself.

It’s finally over, I guess… but as I prepare for the eternity that awaits me, for the prison of nothingness and darkness that surrounds the wretched remains of my soul…

I find her hand. She too is asleep, of course. But despite that, her gentle fingers tighten around mine, and following her gentle touch, I, once again, surface from the dark void around me. As my eyes shot open, my first reaction is to look for her. And here she is- tightly holding my hand, sleeping peacefully…if only she knew. I fling aside some strings of her auburn hair. Sensing my touch, her eyelashes tremble…and she smiles in her sleep.

Disgusted of myself, I carefully fling aside the wet pearl-white sheets. Wiping the sweat out of my face I look around. The room is much brighter now- the full moon shares some of her light with me through the regal beige curtains. Accompanied by the annoying screech of the mattress I slowly get up. Maneuvering around the silhouettes of the Renaissance-era furniture, careful not to wake her up, I reach the terrace and open the sliding glass doors with one swift swing.

The gentle night air welcomes me as I take my first steps out. Thankful for the refreshing wind, I remove some wet strings of hair from my face. My tired gaze soars above the city. I’ve always liked these kinds of views. Seeing a city at night, from some high place where the constant noises of civilizations can’t reach me, has always helped me think. And the majestic city of Alto Mare- basking under the gentle moon-beams, the crystal clear waters of its canals reflecting them with an almost magical blue tint- was no exception.

The cool night air surrounding the city is marked by thousands of the city’s own stars- the windows of the people who, for some reason or another, were still awake- mirroring their brothers and sisters high in the night sky.

I hear hushing and children laughing. With a semi-curious look I inspect the canals nine stories below me. Hiding behind a corner, there is a small group of kids. Careful not to be spotted by someone, they sneak through the city. Their cheerful voices and the small Pokémon accompanying them clearly indicate they are off to another adventure. With a bitter smile I remember the times when I was one of the kids sneaking across some dark city or forest.

Memories flash one after another in my mind. I remember vividly every second with my friends. I remember the jokes, the adventures, the teasing…the departure. One by one they left my life… disgusted of what I have become. What was once an inseparable bond was now a quick call or a postcard for Christmas. Well, at least he stayed for a while longer. He has always been a fine friend… but even his optimism I’d stop my senseless quest ran out eventually.

And my Pokémon? I can sense it in them, too. Even he-my first one, my starter- despises me. When I look in his- now blind- eyes, I realize that our bond…the bond we thought was eternal, is long broken. The only thing that connects us, that forces him to obey me, is the poke ball he is trapped in.

He saved my life on the first day I met him…and I repaid by forcing him to battle the Original One.

I don’t remember how, or when, I started slipping. Maybe it was since day one, or since I started needlessly prolonging the battles. I’ve always loved battling…the thrill is- or was- intoxicating. I always found flaws in my victories, always thought I could be better, stronger, smarter. It was just a game at first- the ultimate game- that every trainer played.

Through the years, I sensed how I wanted more and more. Suddenly gyms and Leagues weren’t enough for me. And when even the various Elite Four and Champions fell before me, I still wanted more. I wanted to prove the old man I was the best…only then, he said, I could face him. And I proved myself time after time again… but when the ultimate tournament came, he wasn’t there.

On the first day of my journey, I saw a Legendary. People say this means great destiny awaits the trainer. Some say destiny is a funny thing…I say she is a bitch. Seeing Mesprit marked the beginning of my journey…becoming Pokémon Master marked the start of my downfall.

Maybe the old man wasn’t even alive when I earned the title. When I was little I always questioned myself why would he go on a journey at his age. But now I understand. We were the same in many ways. Including our hunger for challenges. The old man ran away in search for the greatest challenge- to capture a Legendary. And when I won the title, when I realized that no Tournament, League or Battle Frontier could satisfy me anymore, I decided to follow in his footsteps once again.

The last fifteen years are a blur. All I remember brightly are the battles. The first one to fall was the great dragon- Lugia. He promised to battle me once…but when I returned, the battle wasn’t quite what he expected. The first few times it was thrilling…but even the hunt got dull. One after another, the Legendaries fell. You probably wonder how someone could-even if he is the best in the world- capture even one of them. Well, I found their weakness.

Every single one of them has a poke ball designed especially for him or her in ancient times. They are… works of art. They are made from gold, silver, rubies and emeralds, diamonds and pearls… encrusted with some symbol related to their corresponding Legendary.

Finding all of the poke balls was bitter work. But with the help of an old poke ball master, desperately wanting to study them, I got in touch with some…Collectors. Never got along with any of them. They preferred capturing Legendaries using weapons made by mankind. I always gave my prey a fair chance…one on one.

It was a good adventure for the first few years, I admit it. My friends were still with me-at least most of them- and I visited a lot of beautiful and exotic places. I enjoyed the tricky part of summoning many of the Legendaries. There were many… special conditions.

But eventually, as any other thing, even the hunt ended. And I spent the last years alone. I captured ordinary Pokémon from time to time. But they always ended up trapped in their poke balls on some shelf, never to be seen or used again. And as I walked the corridors of my needless mansions, full of faceless servants whose names I don’t even know…they came. The eyes. But I already told you about them, didn’t I?

Once again, I here laughing below. Maybe it’s those kids again? No… an elongated gondola slowly sales along one of the canals. The gondolier rigidly stares at the sparkling waters. He tries not to look back at the happy couple on the other end of the gondola. As the man passionately hugs his lady and she replies with a shy kiss… my thoughts drift back in the past again.

Would it have been different if I had listened to her? Of course it would. Her ultimatum was simple: she or my quest for the title… It was the night before the Mastership match. What would have you done? No, wait… you’d have probably chosen her, am I right? And I’m a fool for not doing it. Sometimes I dream of her. I dream of those bright blue eyes of hers… but they always change.

And as her eyes turn blood-red, fire swirls around me and blood rains from the crimson sky… She…she is my greatest torturer, my greatest Erinye. But I can’t change the past… albeit they obey me, they refuse to do it. But maybe it’s better this way. I was warned back then. And by not heeding the warning, I sealed my destiny. I deserve it.

I am what I am and I can’t change it. It’s too late. But how much I want this not to be true! Two months ago, when I learnt there is one more Legendary, the spark of life in me awakened again. Awakened along the predator that hid within. Fate had given me one last hunt. And I was determined to make the most of it.

As the plane landed in the Alto Mare airport, my thoughts focused on one thing only- to find and capture Latias. I had already captured its male counterpart…but I thought the last female had died along with its brother, protecting the city, more than twenty years ago. Apparently, I was wrong.

Somewhere in this beautiful city was hiding the last one of the Latias. And I was dead set to find her. Dead set. Day after day I roamed the streets and canals of the city, not even stopping to admire its treasures. But the true treasure of Alto Mare changed it all. My search led me to the city’s museum. I was just standing in the main hall, purposelessly staring at the fossils covering the floor.

At first, she just observed me from a distance. She probably thought I couldn’t notice her. Then, with a light walk, as if she levitated above the mortal world, she walked to me. For more than five minutes, I continued staring at the fossils. But she stayed. Finally succumbing to curiosity, I cast up my eyes.

I was taken aback, I admit it. Her innocent face basked in the multi-colored sun-beams shining through the stained windows. Her cheerful hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if she was just a little kid. And her smile! It was so warm...so full of feelings I had long forgotten. I caught myself staring at the majestic flickers of her flowing chestnut hair. And as I outstretched my arm to her, I knew. I had met my guardian angel. My savior.

I have never heard her voice. But albeit she never spoke, I understood everything she meant. The day we met she introduced me to her “twin sister”. Bianca disliked me from the beginning. I guess the world-famous painter and head of the Alto Mare Museum was a people’s person after all. But her sister paid no heed…without even noticing, soon I was running around the city, holding hands with Monique. She, like Bianca, was an art’s person. A poet. That’s how we communicated when we were alone…and that’s how I learnt her name.

Monique wanted to show me everything- museums, galleries, parks… When I was with her I felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in many years. When I met her, the nightmares were visiting me every night. I was afraid to sleep. But she drove them away. These last two months Monique was my haven. She was the beacon of hope enlightening my path. She gave me a new, different, purpose. Time after time again, our night walks around the city ended with us two beneath the whispering crown of some tree. And in her gentle caring hug, I could sleep peacefully- away from the horrors of my past, present and future.

Maybe for the first time in my life, the self-consuming hunger inside me disappeared. Monique did what I thought was impossible. She truly tamed the predator within. She showed me a new side of life. And my guardian angel didn’t even know it. When we were alone under the starry night sky, I felt something new. Something different than the passion…than the lust for something more I had always felt through my life. I felt love.

And when I realized it, I was ready to throw everything away. I was ready to give up my stupid quest, my fame and my mansions. All of this, just to hold her hand under the Alto Mare’s night sky forever. I thought destiny had given me a second chance. But destiny just wants to have one last sarcastic laugh before I’m annihilated completely.

I learnt the truth today. The Legendary poke balls have three unique characteristics. The first is, of course, that only they are able to catch their corresponding Legendary. The second is they can reveal the presence of their Legendary even if it’s hidden. We were preparing for dinner. As she entered the room I was packing up the steel chest where I kept the Legendary poke balls. I had decided to send it back home. I wanted it out of my sight.

Monique gestured to her long evening dress-she awaited my opinion. Monique made a step forward as I stared at her- more beautiful than ever in her crimson red evening gown. And Latias’ poke ball awakened. My heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t see the content of the chest. But I saw nothing else. The miniature red-and-white sphere, carved in the most precious minerals, beamed. The predator in me shattered its prison as I stared the glow of the sphere, flickering like a crimson heartbeat.

I tried to tame it. I complimented her, went to dinner…pretended everything was fine. But the questions burned me inside. I tried to reject the truth at first. But the cold logic spoke otherwise. Monique never talked…because she couldn’t. She looked like Bianca…because she had taken her form. And the poke ball? Kurt’s voice echoed in my head:

“The poke ball never lies, my young friend. Especially the Legendary ball!”

But why did Monique… why did Latias choose me? What was so different about me? Maybe… maybe she wanted to test me. To determine whether I have really become a monster. But no… she doesn’t know anything. Monique or Latias, or whoever she is, she just fell in love. Like I did. But that makes me even more of a monster than I already am.

The cry of a lone Pelipper in the distance brings me back to reality. I look around. The streets and canals are finally empty. Lonely… If I want, Monique can stay with me. I can just throw the cursed chest in the canal right now…just pretend nothing ever happened. Forget about the Hunt!

But I can’t make her live a lie. She doesn’t deserve someone who had dedicated the last fifteen years of his life to hunting her kin. And I…don’t deserve anything at all. As the wind flows around me, the last question comes:

I capture her. Then what?

After I catch Latias, the last of the Legendaries, everything will be over. No challenges, no battles, no worthy opponents… no nothing. No purpose. And without a purpose, I am nothing. By dedicating my life solely to battling, a bond was forged between me and my opponents. An ironic connection- if I win, if I conquer them all…there will be no one left to fight. I can hear in my head how Jed sums it all up:

“That’s it, man. You’ve reached the level cap. There is no “level next” anymore. Game over.”

I am the architect of my own destruction. My hunger will consume everything. And when there is nothing else left, it will consume me.

And as suddenly as the question came, the answer appears before me. Once again careful not to wake her up, I walk back in the room. The number is silently dialed and not long later, I hear his voice on the other end:

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! I told you already: I’m not buying that Magikarp!”

“Cracking jokes as always, huh?”

Even from this distance, I can sense how his demeanor changes. His stern reply doesn’t surprise me:

“Oh…it’s you.”

“Guess you’re not happy to hear me. Trust me, I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.”

“Okay, then. What is it?”

“Tomorrow, I want you to go to my mansion. And release all the Pokémon. Every single one I’ve ever caught. Then, as soon as possible, fly to Alto Mare. The chest is in room 407, Alto Mare Grand Hotel. Release all the Legendaries. And by all means possible, destroy their poke balls.”

On the other side of the line, his voice changes. The concern could be felt through the phone:

“Whoa! Hold your Horsea, man! You ain’t gonna jump from some bridge or something, right?”

“Not quite.” a sad smile makes its way on my face.

“Why me?” there is such a wide range of emotions in his question…

“Because I know you’ll get it done. And, Jed…tell them all I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry for everything.”

I could hear his shouting from the other end as I hang up:

“Kale? Kale! Don’t hang up the phone dammit!”

Like hypnotized, I unlock the dreaded chest. The Legendary balls reflect the moonlight, like stones in a river. Latias’ one glows with its own inner light. As I pick it up its gentle warmth greets me. I move one of the heavy wooden chairs next to the bed.

She truly is an angel in her own right. Poetry carved in flesh. I just stare in awe as the sparkling moon-beams dance on her face. She smiles… and dreams. To me, her chestnut hair seems like a flowing sea… like a majestic corona around her. I love her… and I hate myself for this. But I have to. This is the last hunt. Tonight I come full circle…finally, the Seviper bites its tail. Tonight, I’m facing the Legendary alone. And this is the end.

You wonder what is the third characteristic of the Legendary balls? When you activate it, when you enlarge it…they sense it. Kurt calls it “The Harbinger signal”. And as I press the button and activate it, her gentle eyes shoot open. The moment I meet her look, I realize. She knows. She has known it all along. But Monique…Latias, loves me. As she transforms into her true form, a single tear makes its way out of her eyes…

And as Latias’ crystal tear hits the cold floor and shatters in millions of minute versions of itself, her cry echoes in the depths of my mind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The young boy awakened from his nightmare with a desperate cry. The small golden sphere hanging from his neck felt like an anchor, pulling him down under some cold lifeless ocean. The stifling air in the lemon-colored room burned his lungs and the trainer desperately opened the window.

There was something…someone in the shadows of the nearby trees. Right between the majestic towers of Time and Space in the distance, the figure looked like some titan who had come to conquer the world. Like an hourglass counting down your time, like a shadow of a flame-if such thing even existed- the thing slowly drowned in the shadows. Its piercing blue eyes met with the boy’s hazel ones…and the creature’s message echoed:

“Consider this a warning… from a friend.”

A mere moment before the figure completely disappeared in the cold shadows, the trainer heard how it lisped, as if to itself:

“Debt repaid, old man. Debt repaid.”

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Four: Fight for Actopon.

The commander of the landing craft looked up into the gray sky. There were many Pokémon flying above him, cawing and screeching as they flew above the fleet of landing craft. Each of the Pokémon had a red ‘R’ emblazoned on their wings, and tubes attached to their legs and backs. Tubes loaded with bombs and missiles. It didn’t matter that they were Pokémon; they were just another weapon of war.

The commander gaze shifted to the men jostling in the landing craft below him, the red ‘R’s on the back of their helmets were polished to a mirror shine. No-one was going to mistake who they were. It was a tight fit in what was little more than a glorified tub. Thankfully the commander was on a raised platform at the back. Not that he had much more space, what with the controls for the landing craft as well as an anti-aircraft gun.

The landing craft suddenly caught air as it bounced off a wave. The stomachs of the crew collectively lurched as the craft hit the water sending up a column of vapourized spray which the wind blew straight at the hapless commander. He brought a hand up to cover his face and looked away to his left, focusing on another landing craft. He winced as the atomized water stabbed at his hand like thousands of tiny needles.

There were about thirty landing craft for the first wave. They would be hitting the beaches at some small town called Redwell. Other places in the region were to face the wrath of war. A parachute regiment was going to be jumping over some city called Lightvale before the landing craft hit the beaches, partially to distract the defences of the region from the main assault at Redwell as well as to create a secondary landing zone for re-enforcements.

There were no other ships supporting them. The higher ups had decided it would be unnecessary for two reasons: One they preferred the stealthier method of approaching the shore, allowing the diversion to distract the defences for as long as possible; two, the Actopon Navy had been decimated at anchor in Davenport Harbour by an earlier sneak attack and three as far as they were aware the nearest air force base was south of a Redux City, more than two hundred and fifty miles from the projected landing beach.

The commander snapped out of his thought and focused his gaze on the landing ship to his left. He paid no heed to the quiet rumbling sound from the gray bleak sky, passing it off as thunder. He turned to look back down at the troops in the landing craft when a whistling sound reached his ears. He instinctively looked up trying to source the noise, as did everyone else in the landing craft. The commander looked into the sky to the left of him, the whistling was getting louder. The other landing craft had heard the noise as well and were too looking up trying to find its source. They didn’t have to wait long.

Something caught the commander’s eye. A small black oval falling from the clouds. It took a second before he figured out what it was, but by that time it was too late. The black oval slammed into the landing craft to his left. There was a deafening boom as the landing craft erupted with a huge orange fireball. The commander was thrown to the floor by the shockwave that rocked his landing craft.

After a few seconds the commander stood up and grabbed the radio. Before he could even speak the airwaves were filled with the panicked chatter of the other commanders. He put the radio down and got on the Anti-Aircraft gun, ready to shoot anything that came into his field of vision. There was a much louder rumble from above the clouds; the commander tightened his grip on the Anti-Air-craft gun.

There was another whistle, a lot louder than the first however. Less than a second later five more black ovals appeared from the clouds. One of which was headed for the commanders landing craft. He looked up, pointing the Anti-Aircraft gun at the black oval and squeezed the trigger. A hailstorm of bullets leapt from the ends of the twin barrels and swarmed at the black oval, each getting close but not a single one making contact. The men in the landing craft levelled their own weapons at the rapidly falling object firing manically at it desperately hoping to hit it. None were successful and the black oval hurtled towards the landing craft. The commander sighed and stopped firing. Moments later the commander’s landing craft and the four surrounding it erupted into huge orange fireballs.


***

Through the clouds Cypher watched on as the fireballs disappeared into thick black smoke. He looked down at the control panels of his F-15.

“Damn, only 4 JDAMs left.” Cypher cursed into the switched off radio. “And there are about 25 of the suckers still down there.” Cypher looked at his altimeter and attitude indicator before throwing the throttle open and pulling back on the joystick. His F-15 sharply rose and shot towards the sun. Moments later Cypher broke through the cloud cover, after levelling out his plane he gave a look towards Springhall Island and nodded as the promised aircraft arrived on station.

Springhall Island maintained a base as part of the Actopon Air Defence Force. Thankfully the invading force hadn’t realized this, either though bad reconnaissance or sheer stupidity, allowing Cypher to prepare a strike force to take out the invaders landing craft. Not that he was happy about it and the fact that there were so many Pokémon being utilised by the invaders angered him further. Cypher put it to the back of his mind as he hit the radio switch.

“This is Cypher to all Springhall units, listen up.” Cypher’s voice was calm and steady; he had seen a lot of combat throughout his life. Today was no different; just another battle. “I count 25 remaining landing craft in the water below. Use your JDAMs for now. Save the anti-ship missiles for any major support ships that may be lurking around as the majority of our navy has been knocked out and won’t be of any use.” Cypher looked down at his control panel, his hand drifted to a specially made panel. Six Pokéball symbols glowed on the screen, one for each of the six connected to the underside of his plane. All of the aircraft had them. The anger once again rose up in Cypher’s mind, anger at the use of Pokémon in war. “Prepare your Pokémon for release; they have significant numbers of flying type Pokémon armed with a Pokémon Launched Anti-Aircraft Missile, so we need to take them down with our own Pokémon. Good luck and good hunting. Cypher out.”

Cypher flicked the radio switch to receive only before pressing all six of the Pokéballs on the panel. Underneath the plane the six Pokéballs revealed themselves from a recess within the fuselage of the F-15 and opened releasing the Pokémon contained within. The other F-15s and F-18s quickly followed suit releasing a huge number of flying Pokémon into the sky.

For a moment everything was peaceful, just Pokémon and machine flying together. Before being torn asunder by the sound of screeching Pokémon. The steel and machine and flesh and feathered air group dove through the cloud cover revealing themselves to the invaders below.


***


The battle rapidly descended into chaos.

Cypher weaved through the battle as best he could. Occasionally an explosion would thunder through the air like the fury of Zapdos. Its source either a landing craft or plane.

Cypher’s ears were filled with the sounds of his fellow pilots, who were shouting indiscernible commands and requests or crying out in desperation as they were hunted down. Also there were the sounds of the Pokémon, screaming out in pain. Some screamed as the missiles, so crudely attached to their bodies fired; leaving a vicious scorch in its place. Others screamed and cried out as they lost their fight, their bodies pecked and torn apart.

Cypher’s eyes showed him the horror of this battle; a friendly plane bursting into flames as several Pokémon dove at the cockpit and air intakes; a bloodied and battered Salamence crashing into the sea. It’s once glorious body had been covered with the symbols of the enemy and now the star of the enemies Pokémon fleet was surrounded by small Pokémon to numerous to count. Once they were assured they had done more than enough damage the Pokémon flew away, leaving the Salamence to die in the stinging bitterly salty water of the Fox Sea.

Cypher caught a glimpse of a Skarmory being hounded by a Charizard, one of the Skarmory’s wings had melted in the intense heat being blasted from the flying flaming lizard, leaving the steel bird hopelessly out manoeuvred as it tried to flee. Most other people would have felt pity towards the Skarmory or anger towards the Charizard. But not Cypher. No. He had seen so much worse in his life. He had lived through so many battles. He knew the single rule in war. Survive. There’s no room for emotions when all that matters is your survival.

Cypher’s gaze shifted as he scanned the sky above and the sea below. He quickly snapped back into full focus with the sound of rapid whizzing pieces of lead passing mere centimetres from the glass canopy of his plane reminding him of the still incomplete battle. Cypher quickly confirmed the offending landing craft as a target and dropped into a dive, selecting one of his remaining JDAMs.

The commander of the landing craft panicked as he saw the plane he had chosen to fire upon turn and dive at his craft. The blue on the wings of the F-15 filled the commander’s heart with fear, he had heard of this demon plane and he had filled it with a terrible rage by daring to shoot it down. He turned away from the men in the ship and looked at the cold churning sea behind the craft. Without a moment’s hesitation he leapt into the icy water, leaving the men supposedly in his command with no chance of survival.

Cypher didn’t see this; all that mattered to him was locking his target and releasing his weapon. He thought nothing of the human life on the landing craft. The emotions that would come with it would only hinder him in his mission to protect his home from the invaders. There was a ringing beep in his ears as his JDAM locked; like the commander of the landing craft there was no hesitation as Cypher pulled the trigger. Releasing a chunk of death at the hapless landing craft below.


***


Ten minutes later and the battle seemed all but over.

The sea was littered with the dead, humans and Pokémon alike. This would be their final resting place. There would be no marker for the grave, no memorial to the dead. They were gone from this world, their bodies left to be returned to nature, consumed by the unyielding and uncaring sea itself.

Only one landing craft remained of the thirty that comprised the first wave. Many of the more experienced pilots played with the remaining life onboard; strafing them with gunfire. Others hunted down the birds with red ‘R’s and brutally gunned them down. Cypher turned a blind eye to this disgusting side of human nature. Even he would be unable to quench the bloodlust of those pilots who continued to attack. Many had lost friends in the battle and wanted to extract their revenge. Cypher reached forward and flicked the radio switch.

“There will be plenty more for you to kill.” His voice was cold. His mind struggling to clear itself of the image of war. “We have to return to Springhall to re-arm, refuel and repair. We have revealed ourselves now. The enemy will send a large naval force to attack our home.” Cypher paused for a moment as the solitary remaining landing craft exploded. The fireball seemed extra intense to Cypher, it was angry, as if provoked by the hateful inhuman acts of the pilots who were playing with life. “We have no option but to sink all of the enemies ships. And pray to the gods that their souls will ....” Cypher trailed off and shut his radio off. He didn’t believe in a god, or many gods, or even the Pokémon gods. His life’s experience of humanities most evil doing was more than enough for him to no longer believe that the gods were anything but stories or beasts.

The F-15 of Cypher banked as he turned back towards Springhall Island. This battle was only the start of a long campaign and a bloody war.

A war in which there would only be one rule. Survive, by any means.

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Five:
Black-Knife

“Fifteen people shot, ten electrocuted and one burned. Heh, we're doing bloody well Luxray and Houndoom, keep this up and the Captain will promote us.” A man held a compound bow as he walked up the asphalt. “Even after invading this city, we still have pesky survivors.”


“Luxray.” He agreed.


“When you smell or hear something, lead me to it; orders are to kill every weakling in this city, and that is just what we're going to do.”


This bowman is called Günther, he can pull a hundred pound bow string without overworking himself, then fire those arrows up to 500 yards and hit a shop sign. He is one of many invaders that attacked from the east, which made Black-Knife what it is today: A smoking mass of stone and wood.


This road he walks on has been shot with pot-holes, and spilled with red. Only yesterday did all this change occur; only then did he ensure slow deaths with an arrow; raid every glass-walled market and shop for supplies of any kind with his comrades; and burn every wooden structure with his Houndoom and other fire-types.


What does he think of it? Simple, he's a bigot, just like with his comrades and team (who are elsewhere right now). A black-haired, white faced, six foot, black-clothed man who believes those who stand up against his ruler need to die. That the thing with mortals, some of their prejudices and lusts I just don't understand, yet they have it by some underground force.


“Another sunset on this freezing day.” Günther smirked. “Be an hour before I have to return to base. Wonder what job my Captain will assign me tomorrow. . .”


Günther walked past a red sports car, the windows were all shattered, tires flattened, and the smell of gasoline from a stream under the car. Kind of a waste really to destroy that kind of car, but they were in the mood and didn't care. With a slip of his fingers, Günther placed an arrow into his bow, pulled the string back, then released it into the car's hood causing a loud clunk. The arrow stopped when it hit the engine, leaving its white tail sticking out of the hood.


Luxray sniffed a slab of concrete, he yipped then pointed his head towards a Pokémart across the street.


“Got something huh? Well go after it.” Günther and Houndoom followed Luxray towards the market.


The market's blue banner above its door is instead a charred gray from a grenade that landed on the sidewalk–also blew out the windows. Luxray walked through the door with his nose on the ground. Günther and Houndoom walked out from the golden aura of sunset. Fog emits from their mouths as they exhale. They smile, because they enjoy killing, hearing screams, and–you get the idea. I rather not disgust you with it because it also makes me sick seeing it.


“Sure got this place emptied out. . .” Günther whispered as he walked between the empty white shelves.


Their shadowy figures loom against the sunset-lit street as they silently tread the blue carpet. Voices whispered in the back of the market, and they found the voices coming form a wooden closet door that is lit up from inside. Günther knelled down in front of the door, he–like his Houndoom–almost blended in with the darkness at the back of the store. The carpet below the door held an eerie transition from light to dark, as did the other three sides of the door's frame.


“Luxray” Günther whispered into Luxray's ear next to him. “How many are inside?”


Luxray lightly tapped the floor three times. Luxrays can see through almost anything and thus he saw through the door to find out how many people were inside. Günther nodded then listened into their conversation for a while before acting.


“Dangit Phil where are we going to go?” a female voice asked.


“I dunno Sam, maybe we can sneak out of this town tonight.” Phil suggested.


“Well ok, just as long as the child remains unharmed.” Sam replied.


“How am I going to execute these fools. . .” Günther thought.


Phil and Sam are lucky survivors who managed to escape the first night of terror. They've been sitting in this enclosed one-meter cube since morning and have avoided detection until now. They think they are about to flee to safety in the next city, but they're unaware that three shadows are lurking outside, plotting a creative way to kill them.


“Yes that will do just fine. . .” His face darkens the shadows around him as he steps back ten silent steps.


Günther stands up, points to the door with the tip of his bow, then says:


“Fry them Houndoom,” Günther brushed back his hair. “Then feed as you wish.”


“Grrr. . .” Houndoom charged up the fire within. . .


You don't need to know exactly what happened, for it's simple. Houndoom used Flamethrower on the door to get in, Luxray used Thunder Fang, and Houndoom used Fire Fang as much as they wanted on the survivors. And personally, the way Günther laughed at the whole scene while he drank from his canteen of “water” disgusted me at how he actually took pride in one of the most unholy sins that can be committed.






In an alley three blocks down from Günther on the same street, a Sceptile kicked cans out of the way as she shivered and walked. Ah yes, Eris, I'll even translate what she says for you. On the left side there's an apartment that has been leveled to the first floor out of four. All that stands now is the mountains of brick wall on the outline. You can blame artillery for that. But on the right side stood an apartment in better shape, three complete floors intact except for parts of the roadside.


The roadside though, nothing much to see but the stop sign mowed over, the café sign blasted in half, and the sewer's poo in full smell across the whole block–because an explosion blew off the cap, leaving an open sewer smell everywhere. Piles of rubble are scattered among the sidewalks–brick, wood, glass (ouch), and concrete.


“Oh my gosh that smell is nasty. . .” Eris the Sceptile felt the smell crawl up her nose. “Gah, he should be up there on the third floor.”


She's searching for someone, look at that face of worry, looking every which way hoping to catch sight of someone. She has taken a trip, perhaps medium-length by her standards to reach this town. The bottom of her feet bear cuts from glass and sharp rocks–every step she takes must put her into pain, but yet she's still walking seemingly normal. As she reached a steel ladder on the side of the intact building, she looked up then nodded.


“Yeah, I can feel it, he's up there.” She grasped hold of the ladder and climbed up one bar at a time until the balcony to the third floor arrived.


From three stories high the city looks the same as on the ground, same destruction, same slaughter, same everything. Eris doesn't notice it as she opens the door to enter the hall of the gray stone apartment, and Günther is departing from the Pokémart. A block behind him were two distant figures walking down the street, since Günther didn't shoot at them it's clear that they're comrades.


“Where?” Eris thought as she looked down the hall.


Holes are imprinted into the ceiling, leading to the orange sky beyond, partly cloudy. Just enough light to reveal the quartz gray interior floors, walls and ceiling. Flooring is tiles, walls are stone and the doors are wood, or burned to a pile of cinders. A smell of decay and smoke exists here, along with the sewer; like down on the streets, there is no sound but your feet, your breath, and your pulse.


“First the left. . .” Eris walked left to the nearest door, turned the knob and looked inside. “Hmm. . .”


Inside this room, kitchen counters collected dust, appliances sat tipped over on the counter or the floor, the fridge is slammed front face into the floor, and powder blue plates are smashed all over on the left. Eris walked past the kitchen, more interested in the dinning table.


“This dinning table reminds me of my trainer. . . Ed.” Eris thought. “He invited me to sit at the table with him or his family as if I were as human as they were at every single meal.”


Indeed, she speaks of her trainer, that is the one she is looking for. As for her sitting at the same table with Ed, some trainers before have insulted them about that. But Ed said to them, “Do you know your Pokémon at all? I understand what she's saying and she can understand me as well.” They may shrug his wisdom off as some sort of weirdo who doesn't understand the difference between human and Pokémon. But the best way to shut them up: Beat them in a battle, by a landslide.


“If only you hadn't left me at that daycare Ed. . . if only.” Eris clenched her eyes shut, holding back her cries. Then she noticed a photo frame on a desk. “What's this?”


This photo she looked at is of a Flygon, a man wearing an orange shirt and brown pants, while the background appears to be an elevated point of view from atop a mountain. The glass protecting it is shattered and the photo has holes burnt into it. These two in the picture lived here in this room, but no red is anywhere in the room. Because, that man flew away on his Flygon when the invasion started, and thus he was never in danger. Although, the attackers sure made an effort to find him in his room, but no matter how much they destroyed–he wasn't there.


“This room used to have a trainer and his Flygon sit down and eat every day. Like me.” Eris looked out the window frame (the glass being shattered onto the floor) and saw a photo of not only the city's destruction, but the land around it as well. “They burned everything, even the farmlands were taken over or burned.”


Eris stood there and looked at what they have caused, all the holes made by bomb shells, all the wooden buildings lowered to ashes, and all the souls that have passed on. Then she swished her tail around, faced towards the door, and walked out to the hall. She opened the door just across from the door she first came in, and peered in.


The room has the same entrance as before, kitchen, and dinning room; but this dinning table has more chairs around it. Nice taste with the Poké Ball design on the cedar table, and Börje (white wooden frame with padding, fancy brand name) chairs. But they're painted with a coat of ash due to the wide-spread burning of the city. The plates remain on the table, and the whole room was in order unlike the last room. Even old salad was on the plates.


“Could he be around here?” Eris walked forward, hoping that perhaps those killers didn't come into this room. “No he's not here. . . there's a broken flat screen TV on the wall, but no Ed, maybe in those rooms.” Eris walked over to a square indent in the wall which led to three doors: One to the kid's bedroom, one to the bathroom, and one to the parent's bedroom.


Eris had a strong desire to fall asleep on that creamy white sofa sitting against the wall. But she has ran many routes, roads, and cities to reach Black-Knife from the daycare far away. She won't stop now so she opens the door to the parent's bedroom. She looked the inside over, white sheets over bed, drawers for clothes, same old carpet, and same dark empty room. So she moved on to the kid's bedroom on the left. Inside she found the bedsheets fancied with the design of a Blaziken on a twin sized bed, clothes placed all over the floor like every other somewhat responsible youngster, then a Teddy bear of a Teddiursa on the pillow of the bed.


“I can only imagine what joys this family had before those men came here.”


That's right Eris, but I can see what it was like. There used to be a child who played on the streets with others, with games like baseball and soccer, even pretend Pokémon battles because they looked forward to age ten that much. This boy that lived here was the greatest joy to his parents, they wanted him to go to school and become a teacher but he wanted to be in the heat of battle and travel the world as a trainer. Oh so close too, today is his tenth birthday.


“What the?” she looked upon a blood stain on the wall. “That's a meter long, how'd that happen?”


Bloody demons kill kids more violently than adults, in fact they kill the kids first in front of their parents. What happened here is an example: A sword slashed the boy's chest in half which left the ribbon of red on the wall, then his parents were thrown out the window–impossible to survive the fall.


“Heh, that's not him. He was never here now that I smell it carefully.” Eris sighed then turned to walk out to the hall. “But then again, why was that teddy left there even though they were killed?” she thought.


Maybe it was a waste of his time right at that point. But look all around, beyond the smell of the sewer lies the smell of rotting flesh, embers, and smoke. Look at these cracks, this place was once new and solid, but it's shaken to brokenness from war. The cracks are everywhere, give this building one year and it would collapse from nature's patterns.


“Moving on. . .” Eris walked out of the room to the hallway. Stirring up ash as her footsteps pressed then released from the floor.


What do you think Eris? Is he dead, alive, or hurt? It'll be quite a surprise for you once you step into that room–the door on the right, third one from the entrance–you'll see your trainer on his bed. Of course you can't hear me, but I'll keep what happened secret until you get there. So just keep walking down this hall, getting closer and closer to your trainer. You can smell him too can't you?


“He's here, he just has to be.” Eris turned the knob and pressed forward.


Look at that, Eris, a young man dead on his bed. Oh you just stand there and try not to believe it, but that's your trainer, Ed. Why don't you move towards him to believe what you're seeing? Yes that's it, walk towards his body that's leaning against the bed's side while he's sitting next to it, with a carpet stained red for up to a meter in radius. Strange Eris, you're not speaking or thinking as you stand above his corpse. You couldn't go a minute without thinking of him, why aren't you thinking now?


“He really is dead. . .” Eris slammed her knees to the floor in front of her trainer. “How did this happen? By whom did this happen? And why. . .” She cried with her eyes closed.


So my time drifting here to see this mortal affair has showed me more understanding about mortals. Eris's trainer looks quite fine too. His appearance reflects the memories she had of him. Other than red stains splashed on his clothes and skin, he's a brown haired young man; has a slash on his forehead from a rock that hit him; a yellow backpack with everything a trainer needs; a dark green coat made for Alaskan weather; green wool pants made to handle cold winds without losing heat; and a florescent green hat seems to shout to me “Hey you! I challenge you to a battle.”


He once smelled better, but he's rotting. As Eris opens her eyes she saw a “Knuckle Duster” stabbed into his neck from his left side. With a sheet of paper on the bed, writing on it too. She picked up the paper and read it to herself.


This young man had the nerve to try fighting back, so I stabbed him in the neck and let him bleed out on the floor. Then I pulled out from his pocket a photo of a Sceptile and him. . . I knew Sceptiles had this strong urge to see their trainers again if they think they're in trouble or even–he he–dead, so here I place this note to that Sceptile: Yes I killed your trainer, and I enjoyed it so much that I wrote this letter just to anger you. As for the Poké Balls, we burned them with the Pokémon inside, and it was clear to me you weren't there either.


–Sincerely, Jäger Ludolf
P.S When I find you, I'll make you explode.


“They mock him!” Eris tore up the paper then turned back to Ed. “These monsters have cut my time with you short. . . I'm going to avenge you, to get back at them for doing this to you.” Eris said to Ed's body.


Eris still had many places to go with Ed, journeys take years and years until they settle down into home again to raise their kids that then go out into the world too. A cycle interrupted by the actions of these killers. Thousands died and with how easy it was for them at first, they'll do it again. The thought of that concerns Eris enough to try and stop them. But she'll stay with Ed's body for a while, just to reflect back on her times with him.


While the enemy comes for her, not her coming for them.






“What is it now?” Günther asked Luxray “what? Another one?”


“Lux. . .” Luxray growled towards the building Eris was in. Rectangle building, still standing.


“You see something in there huh?” Günther grasped his bow tightly. “Titan and Ludolf are a block behind me, but I ought to have some more action before they do with their cheap-a** weapons.”


Günther and his Pokémon ran off to the building where Luxray sensed Eris–of course they weren't sure who was inside. Slamming a trash can out of the way, Günther rushed to the steel ladder where access to the third floor was.


“Return.” Günther returned his Pokémon as he climbed the ladder with his bow slung onto his back. “Himp, better be worth my time.”


Once he reached the top of the ladder, he sent his two Pokémon back out and leaned against the door, listening for anything.


“Hmm. . . Anyone in the hall?” Günther asked Luxray.


Luxray shook his head.


“Good, Houndoom, take the right, I'll be middle and Luxray left. Let's see who is inside this place.” Günther silently opened the door fully, and brought his Pokémon ahead as he walked up the hall.


“What's that?” Eris thought as she heard the door creak open. “Someone's coming. . . excellent.” Eris pulled the knife out of Ed's neck and held it in her hand, preparing.


That knife is sharp, and pointed like a spear. Might pose to be an effective weapon against Günther. But that's yet to be seen as she walks out of the room into the hall. As she steps out into the hall, Günther stops upon seeing her.


“What the?” Günther saw Eris walk out of the room. “Is she stupid? She simply walks out of the room to be a target for me, wait what's that in her hand?” Günther thought as he saw a knife gripped in her hand.


As Luxray and Houndoom growled, Eris gave Günther a clenched, red face as she lifted up the knife. Günther knew what she planned to do, so he relaxed his right hand and waited for her move. But even with a clear threat, Günther doesn't think a Sceptile about to throw a knife is a danger. Eris however thinks she'll kill this man, then take down his Pokémon. Let's see about that.


“Eat this foul human!” she threw the Knuckle Duster at Günther.


“Hmm. . . Ha!” Günther grabbed the knife's handle a foot from his face. “Hmm. . . Is this Ludolf's knife? No matter, you're p***ing me off.” Günther rolled the knife in his hand then dropped it.


Günther orders his Pokémon to stay back as he pulls out a black tipped arrow–explosive, unlike the previous steel tipped arrows. Eris stood there, shocked from this man's speed until she realized an arrow was being drawn onto his bow string. Günther smiled, thinking this would be easy. Not so.


“Whoa!” Eris leapt backwards into the room as the arrow screeched down the hall.


A plume of flames exploded from a door at the end of the hall, followed with slabs of the ceiling collapsing in. The building rattled shortly after the impact, and smoke rose through the holes in the ceiling. Eris felt the blast too, the door stood only ten meters down the hall, and it was luck that the walls of this room could take that kind of blast. But she didn't give up; she prepared to fire Bullet Seed. Then she dashed out to the hall as Günther started another arrow.


“Again?” Günther sighed–until she fired a barrage of energy charged seeds “Agh! Into that room!” Günther and his Pokémon ran into the first room on the right as dust started flying with rocks chipping from the seeds' impacts. “So you aren't as easy as I thought then.” Günther removed a seed from his left arm, it was drenched red but it didn't go far except to cause minor pain.






Meanwhile, two figures walking up the street towards Günther's location heard the boom, and the recoil of Bullet Seeds. They looked at each other, then the larger figure tapped his ear and talked.


“What the hell are you doing Günther?” he demanded.


“Got a stupid Sceptile holding me under cover thanks to its freaking Bullet Seed attack.” Günther replied over his ear-radio.


“Those explosive arrows are expensive and against a Sceptile you're wasting time. You shall escape then blow up the exit thus sealing her in there and forcing her to go the long way. Do I make myself clear Sergeant Günther?” he ordered.


The man talking is Captain Titan and beside him is Jäger Ludolf. They are teammates with Günther. Titan and Ludolf carry the same thick black clothes, black hair, and strength. But they don't use compound bows, Titan has a 7mm sniper rifle slung on his shoulders, while Ludolf has a break-action gauss rifle. Eris has no idea that these two are close, but one of them will kill her–I said “will”, not “could”.


“Yes sir, have fun taking her down.” Günther turned off the radio. “Dangit, I don't get any fun these days. Could have done it myself but Captain Titan has to take it from me.” He sighed as he returned his Pokémon with the Bullet Seed down for now. “Here's my chance. . .”


Günther popped a flash-bang from his pocket, pulled the pin, then threw it towards Eris by quickly jumping out of the room then back in with his ears covered.


“Huh?” Eris saw the cylindrical metal container land at her feet.


Once the blast of light and BANG went off, Eris flew to the ground while having a temporary seizure from the flash-bang. She didn't see nor hear Günther run out the exit then slide down the ladder. Once she woke up she will find the exit blown up and sealed from an arrow's blast. Günther did as he was ordered, but he could have easily killed Eris with Ludolf's knife or even with one of those “bomb-arrows”. I must admit, the flash interrupted my vision for a while too, but it didn't harm me.


“Lucky.” Günther said as he pulled back his arrow to fire at the exit from ground-level.


Upon impact, the arrow's explosion caused three sides to fall in, blocking the exit and the first door on the left and right. Meanwhile, Titan and Ludolf ran towards the building on the other side of the street, which is also three stories high. They hurried up the ladder into a hallway much like the building Eris is in. Titan takes the first door on the right, and Ludolf takes the second door on the right. The rooms they stand in are burned completely and have no furniture of any kind inside. Just stone, brick and metal. They position themselves close to a blown out window in each of their rooms.


“You know Titan, I could have killed her for you.” Günther said over the radio.


“Well you blocked her in. Only way out is through the main entrance on the ground floor. And yes, it's because we want to have something to shoot at. You have done everything for us the whole day so it's about time the two of us do something.” Titan said.


“I'll just go wait behind a car until you guys are done. Maybe she'll escape.. .”


“What?”


“Nothing.”


“That's what I thought. Now stay down, she'll be coming into view from those windows shortly.” Titan said.


“Yes sir.” Günther said.


Eris woke up and saw a pile of rubble where the exit had been. At least a ton of stone was in the way, and she's not strong enough to move any of it out of the way. She looked around, then thought about why that man didn't kill her while she was blinded.


“No way, he's playing around. There has to be some sort of trap up ahead if he closed off the nearest exit. Bet he's lurking below the windows waiting for my head too.” Eris thought as she looked around, planning. “I'll just have to move on down this hall, then get downstairs and outside. . .”


She walked towards the door that was first hit with that explosive arrow, looked into the room with her dead trainer, then sighed in remorse for his soul. She walked slow too, as if life wasn't worth running for anymore.


“So why did you get that fancy rank Ludolf?” Titan asked as he waited for action.


“What? Jäger, yeah that's because I was a pretty good shot at 500 yards.” Ludolf replied.


“How do you say that again? Jayger?”


“No it's yaygar, that's how you say it, before you ask, it means sharpshooter.” Ludolf said.


“Yeah and I'm still your Captain.” Titan reminded.


“Oh, Sceptile.” Ludolf said as he aimed his rifle. “Just a little more. . .”


Ludolf's hold focused on Eris as she walked down the hall towards an open, street-side window frame. His eyes saw more of her body, but he waited for a full view with his rifle held in offhand. A flash of cobalt blue lit up the street, a super-sonic slug broke through the air, but it missed the target, and instead blew a hole into the floor thirteen meters behind Eris.


“Eh?” Eris saw the flash and felt the blast. “Ludolf!” she slammed against the left wall to get out of view then side-stepped onward.


“How'd it miss?”


“What are you trying to prove kid? Shoot again and hit something.” Titan said.


Ludolf reloaded and steamed as he waited. Ludolf's gauss rifle is something out of a Sci-Fi video game; its coils under the storm gray plastic stock shoot explosive metal slugs out with a phoenix of magnetic force. Better yet, it has no recoil because it doesn't use a ballistic firearm round to send slugs flying, just electricity and super magnets.


“Three large windows? Great.” Eris reached the corner and saw the stretch she would have to cross. Three windows, that go floor to ceiling and are one meter wide. Quite interesting, two sources of sniper fire across the street wait for her to show up. How will she get downstairs? “Go time.” said Eris.


Eris jumped past the first window, Titan and Ludolf didn't fire at her speed. But now they know she's trying to cross the trap. Titan placed his bolt action 7mm Steyr Elite's bi-pod on the windowsill and focused through his scope. While Ludolf held his rifle up and waited, Eris crawled to the second window. Her finger slipped into view for just a second to Titan.


“Maybe I can get a blind kill. . .” Titan squeezed the trigger on where he thought Eris stood.


The shot boomed as one loud thunder, Ludolf almost shot too until he saw he had no clear target. The bullet drilled through a foot of brick at a slightly awkward angle, and it hit Eris–on her top left nodule. Juice popped out then she screamed in pain as she stumbled backwards onto the floor. She tightened her fists 'till they became red then she would stand back up. Titan and Ludolf heard that “Sceptile!” cry and thought they finished her. No, not yet, she has more to come.


“Is she dead already?”


“No Ludolf. She screamed, so I didn't hit a vital organ.” Titan replied “She'll be walking soon, so stay ready.”


“Gah.” Eris groaned as she pulled herself up. “Come on, got to deal with the pain. I'll get him back. . .” Eris flew past the second window.


“You didn't hit her good enough sir. I couldn't see her.”


“Moving to third room on the right.” Titan reported. “Good, this room is the same as before but I have a better shot from here.”


“Dang, that window is in line with the hallway. I'll have to run fast to get down the hall and out of their view.” Eris noticed.


Ludolf also joined his Captain and waited. Noting the larger chance for a deadly shot too with the long skinny hall that leads to the stairs. This time, he put his rifle's barrel-side stock on the windowsill like his Captain.


“Shoot the floor near the window.”


“Yes sir.”


Ludolf fired another flash, Eris withstood the shrapnel from the slug's blast, but with cuts across the front of her legs and torso. The intended effect being to force her to run, and she did. As Ludolf broke open his rifle to reload, Titan fired off a round only to see that Eris's zig-zags resulted in a hole appearing at the end of the hall. He opened his bolt to load the next round, and Ludolf aimed his rifle down the hall, close to the corner she will have to turn about.


“Get over there. . .” Ludolf strained his eye to see the chance. “Yes.”


The round flashed off just as Eris turned around the corner to the stairs. Her back burned from the slug searing across, but no skin penetration; however, the blast sent her crashing down the first flight of stairs after slamming against the wall on her right. Titan just loaded his bullet when this occurred. He gave Ludolf a sour face from missing his target. He's not pleased with how such high-end weaponry is in the hands of a kid, or at least that's what he thinks of Ludolf.


“How new are you again?”


“First year and first raid sir.” Ludolf said.


“Oh geez, you're too excited. Just like Günther you can't take the opportunity because you're so caught up in killing. You're going through some boot camp on the firing range when we get back.” Titan said.


“All right.” Ludolf sighed.


Eris coughed as she got back up. Her face seems to only get angrier with every treatment of assault. She thought only of “getting them” as she ran down the stairs. She ran fast, I couldn't get much detail on the hall, walls and flooring as I went along. But it was all of the same, same smell, same murder, same all. But when she neared the glass door to the street, she thought then of how to quickly get past their line of fire without danger. Double-Team and quick attack sounds good to reach the other building's door, then stairs, then their floor. Again it would be more of the same.


“There she is!” Ludolf raised his rifle, then saw how fast they were going. “This is like shooting at ping-pong balls sir! There's too many of them and they're too fast.”


“Don't try shooting. Hurry up, we have to prepare to welcome her at the door with gunfire. Into the hallway!” Titan ordered.


A dozen shadows of herself were used in flashing speed to divert any attempt at shooting her. They jumped over burned out cars and vans, then met up at the door into the real Eris. While Titan and Ludolf stood ready at the top floor waiting for her to go up the stairs, take a right, and then die. Ludolf sweated as he stood twenty-five meters away from the door with Titan on his left. Titan stretched his limbs as he prepared, knowing that a Sceptile is coming. His sword became visible too, from under a rag of black cloth on his side, it shinned from the little light there was in sunset.


“Anytime now.” Titan said.


Footsteps stomped as they came up the stairs, Ludolf jumped in fear and grabbed a frag grenade from his belt.


“Yah!” Ludolf flung his grenade through the door, without waiting.


“Dummkopf! What did you do that for?” Titan yelled.


“I uh–” Ludolf saw a Sceptile with his grenade in her hand. “Oh no!”


“Take back your garbage.” Eris said as she threw the grenade back at Ludolf.


“Achtung!”


Titan shoved Ludolf into the closest room on the right, then he pulled his side arm 9mm from his holster. Fraction of a second, Titan shot the grenade while it was at mid-point between him and Eris, and its shrapnel flew out harmlessly.


“What the?” Eris stood shocked, then saw his aim sifting to her. So she quickly fired an energy ball at the ceiling, which lead to a pile of rubble big enough to cover her from gun fire, heavy and solid too.


“Dang.” Titan saw the dust pillow out from the rubble pile. “Bullet-proof stuff she's blocking me with.” Titan slung his rifle over his back and relaxed his shoulders.


“Not so fast sir.” Ludolf came back out with his gauss rifle in his shoulder. Aiming behind Eris.


Eris took advantage of the dust's visual cover, and fired one bullet seed–into Ludolf's scope. Glass flew into his face, giving him some long, deep glass cuts.


“Argh, my face! It freaking hurts!” Ludolf covered his face with his left hand, blood dripped from his cheeks.


“You're going to be in my way if you don't re-group with Günther right now. So get out.” Titan ordered.


“Right away sir.” Ludolf ran off toward the ladder.


“Heh, so much for your threat Ludolf.” Eris chuckled.


“Now time to get serious.” Titan slid his side arm back into its holster, then pulled out his sword. He saw his face in the sword as he lifted it up. An old scar here and there, with lots of dirt and ash over his white skin and black hair. “Finally, now that I have left you to live from the others, I can end your life solo.” Titan rolled his katana among his hands as he neared Eris's pile.


“Where'd they go?” Eris peaked over then saw Titan's massive figure overhead, his muscles hidden inside his bulky clothes. He's above six feet in height, and Eris stumbled back as she saw his katana wave in the air.


“Get over here.” Titan grabbed Eris by the head, then with bull strength he sent her body through the weakened brick wall on the left into a burnt-out room.


“Gah.” Eris struggled back up, and saw Titan crawling through the hole he made. “Why you. . .”


Eris dashed over to Titan, but he simply force palmed her back and waved his finger.


“You stupid untermensch, you are not able to harm me.” Titan said, as he quickly threw a black box to his left. “You could just give yourself up now if you want to live, we always do want powerful Pokémon like you. So what will it be?”


Hobson's choice, either accept living a life under a new, terrible master. Or die. Eris knew if she chose to join she would be treated just like what Titan said, and worse she would have to do as they say. The idea of killing others just so she might live sounded cowardice to her, so she jumped after Titan ready to land a fist.


“Ugh.” Eris hit him in the ribs, but despite the speed put into it, no breaking. “Ha ha, oh well, gotta be feral don't you?” Titan elbowed Eris off, then landed a high kick to her neck. And as she stumbled back in pain he ran after her, grabbed her head again and flung her through the door.


“Owww. . .” Eris got up again, unable to hold her head straight. “You evil thing. . .”


“I bet you're insulting me, but I'll be the one to kill you so it won't matter.” Titan threw Eris up against the wall with his left hand. “Ah, this place is beautiful yes? I enjoyed running through every apartment and building slashing through every Pokémon and human that lived. We stole some of the strong Pokémon and we're forcing them to work for us. But as for this city you may call Black-Knife, we've blown it apart and killed everyone that isn't worthy. Worthy of the Übermenschen, yes, us. We are above all, and the citizens of this city couldn't even injure one of us nor one of our Pokémon.


Eris tried pulling off his hold, but he was too strong.


“You've come close I guess, and injured two of our people. But yet you don't choose to join us? You're stronger than the other Pokémon we have but if you're going to be weakened with pathetic emotions, then you really deserve to die. Just imagine it, the whole world free of weaklings, free of the Untermenschen, and strong, strong like Arceus intended.” Titan laughed.


“And it will be done! No Officer Jenny can stop us, no Elite Four can stop us, no one can stop us! We have the technology, we have the people, and we have the guts to spread this beauty of annihilation through all the world! Now you stupid little Sceptile: I'm going to seal you into the flames of what I speak, and know it forever, that we will become the next world order!”


“Where did you come from, you monster?”


“Ha!” Titan slashed the main artery in Eris's upper leg. “Enjoy feeling your blood flow honey, and take this C-4 off my hands.” Titan threw a black box onto Eris. Then walked out, towards the ladder from whence he came.


“Can't move, can't feel my leg, starting to get dizzy, aww.” Eris slapped her head back, knocked out from the blood loss.


“One more here too.” Titan dropped a third box in the hallway then reached the ladder. “Can't wait for the fireworks.”


“Oh, Captain Titan, what'd you do?” Günther asked, he sat behind a car some 100 meters down street from the building Titan was in.


“I'll show you, just let me get over there.”


Titan got behind the car with the other two. He ordered them to stand up and look at the building while he took out a red button from his coat pocket.


“Ah, it's a good day to level a building.” Titan pressed the button, and with a beep the process started.


They stood in awe as flames plumed out from every window, and the roof. Then they heard the sound of the building's support beams giving way to gravity. Stones and bricks flew across the sky, often with smoke trails behind them. After the short burst of flames ended, the building collapsed inward leaving only the first floor's outline. Once and for all, another building laid waste to rubbish. A cloud of smoke pillowed into the sky, lit orange-red from the sunset's final phases.


“Ah, you blew her up?” Ludolf said.


“Yes.”


“I wanted to do that.”


“Too bad Ludolf. Now hurry up. We have to report this to the General then have dinner.” Titan said.


And so they went back to their base from whence they came. Preparing to descend upon the next city, and spread again and again.

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Six:

A dark Alternative

Marked 15+ read it at your own discretion. Goriness and death in the story.

Mankind and Pokemon were never meant to be equals, you know. That pattern has revolved throughout humanity’s history. From the ancient civilisations that time forgot to today’s world, Pokemon have always been below humans. While there are those few humans who espouse cooperation between Pokemon and human, even they inevitably treat Pokemon below them.

What Team Rocket does; Giovanni thought to himself as he stood on the very top floor of Silph. Co. watching the city of Saffron below him burn, was simply embracing the status quo that had been around since the dawn of creation. At the bottom of the tower, amidst fire and flames, the few remaining trainers who still had their Pokemon fought to their last against Team Rocket’s Grunts. It was a sight hardly ever seen, Giovanni pondered. In the last stand of Saffron against the power of Team Rocket, the fighting and psychic gym trainers fought together, the perfect mix of brawn and brain. But even that was helpless against Team Rocket’s power.

But while the trainers fought to their last outside, the gym leaders both fought for one purpose; to reach Giovanni, who had deliberately allowed the information of his whereabouts to be known. No doubt, Sabrina knew that this was a trap, but not even she could predict what was going to happen.

Suddenly, the double door was smashed apart as though it was nothing. Standing behind the door was Kiyo, his leg already swinging back to the floor. His hard stare looked straight at Giovanni as his fists clenched together. But of more interest to Giovanni was not Kiyo, for any man could become just like him; but Sabrina was the one of real interest to Giovanni.

‘Kiyo,’ Giovanni said, looking at him with amusement in his eyes, ‘Did no-one ever teach you to knock?’

‘Politeness is for humanity,’ Kiyo said calmly, walking inside the room. ‘And your humanity has been long stripped from you.’

‘Perhaps,’ Giovanni conceded; a small smirk on his face. His head turned towards Sabrina, bowing slightly as he did so. ‘Sabrina, I presume. I must say, the tales of your beauty have indeed not been exaggerated.’

‘Giovanni,’ Sabrina murmured. ‘The stories of the anguish and cruelty under your rule have not been exaggerated. I have seen what you have done to the people of Kanto. I saw the Sacking of Celadon, the Massacre of Pewter and the Rape of Fuchsia as if I was there, and I can tell you right here, right now, that you will pay for your crimes.’

Giovanni chuckled, his hands drifting towards his belt where his Poke Balls lay. ‘Sabrina, as well as your beauty, it appears that the stories of your psychic prowess are also true. It would be fascinating to find out how the human mind has developed such wondrous powers. I must remind myself to keep alive some of your gym trainers, Sabrina, and before long we’ll see if my scientists can work it out.’

In her eyes, a flash of anger appeared and disappeared in an instant, only Giovanni seeing it. He smiled to himself, if Sabrina could show anger, then she could show servitude.

‘Over my dead body will I ever allow that to happen, Giovanni,’ Kiyo said, anger clear in his voice. ‘Or preferably, over yours.’ He held up a Poke Ball, Giovanni did the same. Only Sabrina hesitated to pull out her Poke Ball, she knew that something wasn’t right about this, but not even Sabrina, even with her psychic skills, could see what would happen.

‘So how shall we play this, then?’ Giovanni asked. ‘Shall we stick to the classic Pokemon battle, or would you rather use all of your Pokemon against mine?’

‘Unlike you, Giovanni,’ Kiyo spat, ‘Gym Leaders have honour, we will not sink to your level. Go, Primeape!’ The Poke Ball opened and the red light shot out, Primeape materialising on the floor of the office. Its scruffy-haired body danced up and down, punching its thin muscled arms in mid-air as its slanted eyes stared around the room, hunting for its opponent.

‘So be it,’ Giovanni said, throwing his Poke Ball. ‘I choose you, Kingler!’

Kingler appeared in a flash of red light, its huge pincers snapping menacingly as it moved left to right, its small beady eyes focused on Primeape. Primeape screeched loudly at Kingler, jumping even higher than before as its fists waved madly in the air.

‘Primeape, use Karate Chop!’ Primeape’s fist opened up as it swung at Kingler.

‘Metal Claw, now!’ Kingler’s pincers suddenly glinted a metallic colour. With a loud clang, Kingler threw its metal claw in the way of Primeape’s karate chop. The two forces met in a large clang, causing Primeape to yelp as it clutched its hand. ‘Now, Kingler, use Guillotine!’ Kingler’s already metallic pincers glinted once more, becoming incredibly sharp, easily capable of rendering flesh and bone without any difficulty at all.

‘Primeape, dodge it!’ Primeape quickly leapt to one side, but ultimately was too slow as the pincer caught Primeape by the shoulder, its pincers snapping together. Primeape howled in pain as its arm was torn off; it clutched at its wound, blood gushing from its wound horrifically.

Kiyo stared in shock at the gruesome sight of his Primeape’s condition; nothing had or ever could prepare him for a Pokemon to actually cause serious damage to another Pokemon. Even Sabrina, who was hardly ever surprised due to the fact she would know about it before it had even happened, stared in disbelief.

‘Finish it, Kingler,’ Giovanni said scornfully.

‘Kiiiinng,’ Kingler agreed, grabbing Primeape by its body and began to applying a huge amount of pressure. With one single snap of its claws, the unfortunate Primeape was cut in half, blood streaming from the two halves of its body. Kiyo collapsed to his knees, a single tear rolling down his face as Kingler contemptuously flicked the remains off of its pincer.

‘So,’ Sabrina hissed, stalking next to Kiyo, her eyes narrowed and angry. ‘If want to bring it up to this level, then by all means, let us do so.. Alakazam, I choose you!’ A golden-coloured Pokémon with brown plates covering parts of its body, such as its torso and arms, materialized from the red beam. It had long horn-like ears on top of its head and slit eyes that watched knowingly, as if its knowledge was vast. Its face was angular, and a long moustache-like shape stretched from its mouth area, extending outward. It grasped a spoon in each hand. Unfortunately for Alakazam, its clawed feet landed straight into the puddle of blood where the ill-fated Primeape had been slaughtered.

The two opponents stood there for what
seemed like hours, although in reality were a few seconds. The Kingler that faced Alakazam, it noted, had an especially shiny shell, and its pincers were drastically overlarge, easily capable of crushing Pokemon the same size or smaller than it was. Against the Alakazam, its main strength would be its physical strength; that was, if it got close enough to use them.

It was Giovanni who cracked first, issuing the first command. ‘Kingler, use Mud Shot, aim for its eyes!’

However, Sabrina had already said her move, even as Giovanni had said his. ‘Alakazam, Teleport.’

As Kingler shot mud from its mouth, Alakazam had already glowed white and had disappeared from its original position, appearing a few steps away from Kingler.

‘Alakazam, use Reflect.’ A large orange shield-like bubble surrounded Alakazam as it waved its spoons in a particular pattern. Unlike other reflect moves, Giovanni thought, this particular Reflect was stronger than the average Pokemon who used this move. It would take a very strong move to penetrate its defence.

‘Kingler, use Crabhammer.’ Kingler roared as it lifted its pincer high, slamming it down with all its might on the shield. Alakazam quickly reacted, bringing its spoons to the target area, reinforcing that particular section of the shield. There was a loud crack as the two forces met, and the very building rumbled as the shockwaves from the two opposing attacks vibrated through the building. As the three humans recovered their footing, they saw the shield had been broken, but Alakazam and Kingler were still alive, both the pincer and the spoons pushing against each other; sweat drops poured from the two Pokemon.

‘Alakazam, use Confusion.’ Alakazam’s eyes suddenly glowed bright, its psychic powers visibly picking it up and throwing it back where it slammed against the wall. Kingler, however, had not yet fainted and still stood, although it was clearly shaking.

‘Now use Psybeam.’ Alakazam crossed its spoons as a bright blue light surrounded it. Kingler’s eyes, previously black suddenly turned a bright blue and it stood there, motionless. ‘Now, finish it,’ Sabrina said emotionlessly.

Alakazam began to move its spoons around. Kingler was suddenly picked up in mid-air; its eyes widened as two great forces crushed it from two sides, but even as shell cracked and flesh squeezed, no sound was made by Kingler as it turned into nothing more than a fleshy ball. As Kingler had done earlier, Alakazam flicked its spoons, the ball flying towards Giovanni who sidestepped, allowing the ball to slam against the wall and slide downwards, a trail of blood in its path. He showed no concern for the loss of his Pokemon.

‘Do you see now, Giovanni why you cannot defeat me? I saw this battle before it even ended. I knew what moves you would choose before you even did and I know the Pokemon you will choose before you even thought about entering Saffron. You are finished, Giovanni. Your reign of terror will end tonight. The only thing I have to decide is whether to kill you myself as retribution for all the deaths that you caused. I can do a great many things with my powers. I can trap you in your own mind, force you to face all your nightmares at once. I can take you to the brink of madness and drag you back to sanity before sending you back, kicking and screaming all the way. And no one will even care, Giovanni. They will simply watch and cheer as I do it over, and over and over. I have foreseen it, Giovanni, and I will make it happen.’

Giovanni stared at Sabrina for a few seconds, before he started to chuckle. ‘Now that, my dear Sabrina, is a fate upon which I would not condemn anyone, not even myself who I acknowledge as most deserving of your fate. But you are correct in that you can see everything I do before I know it myself. Therefore, I think it only wise that the stakes be evened up a bit, don’t you?’

Sabrina stared at him in some confusion before her eyes widened and she fell to her knees, her mouth opened in unvoiced agony. Kiyo rushed to her side, supporting her shoulders as he stared at Giovanni. ‘What are you doing to her?!’ He yelled as Alakazam ran from the battlefield to join its trainer, waving its spoons over her.

‘I? I am doing nothing to her. Rather, my partner and associate is doing this to her. He is blocking her psychic powers so that she cannot see the future. After all, I would hardly call it fair if my opponent can cheat. So then,’ he said brightly, rubbing his hands. ‘Do you dare to continue the match stripped of your powers, Sabrina?’

Kiyo stood in front of her, his eyes narrowed and his face fixed with anger. ‘If you want a battle, Giovanni, then take it up with me.’

Giovanni raised an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re willing to send another Pokemon to its death, Kiyo?’

‘If my Pokemon die, Giovanni, they at least die for an honourable cause, unlike those of your own!’ Kiyo snarled, pulling a Poke Ball from his belt. ‘You will never triumph over justice and peace!’

‘Fine words,’ Giovanni conceded, ‘but do you have the will to back it up?’

Kiyo didn’t bother answering, but threw his Poke Ball into the air. ‘Hariyama, come on out!’

‘Crobat, come and show this dolt exactly who he’s dealing with.’

The two pokemon sized each other up, Crobat hovered in mid-air; its four wings fluttering as it waited for its master’s command. Hariyama, on the other hand, stayed still, only its eyes moving as it followed Crobat in its flight.

‘Hariyama,’ Kiyo suddenly yelled, ‘use Whirlwind, drag it down from the air!’ Hariyama grunted its acknowledgement, beginning to spin around in its spot until it was nothing but a blur, the wind being dragged around it into a whirlwind with Hariyama at the centre. Crobat screeched as it found itself being dragged inch by inch into the swirling mass. It flapped as hard as it could but to no avail as with one last desperate cry, it found itself sucked in. In the whirlwind, a purple blur could be seen spinning around and around.

‘Now release it, and use Close Combat!’ As the whirlwind began to fall apart, the body of Crobat fell out, clearly dazed and in shock, landing on the floor in a heap. In a flash, Hariyama moved in a style unbefitting of its size and weight, landing on top of Crobat and started attacking its body, its teeth, fists and feet smashing repeatedly at it. Snaps were heard as Crobat’s body continued to be pulverised. Finally, it was a merciful stomp on the neck and an audible snap that marked the end of the Crobat’s life.

Kiyo grinned visibly as he looked at Giovanni, who as with the death of his Kingler, showed no emotion on his face. ‘That,’ he said, ‘was for Primeape.’

‘An unfortunate ending to the battle,’ was all that Giovanni said, pulling out another Poke Ball. ‘But this one, your Pokemon will not survive. Nidoking, come on out.’

Nidoking roared as it came out, its fists clenched and its teeth razor sharp. It looked at the smaller Hariyama with contempt as it took up a fighting stance. Hariyama for its part stayed still, its eyes following Nidoking as it had done to Crobat.

‘Nidoking, use Double Kick!’ Nidoking leapt into the air, spinning quickly, it quickly landed one kick on Hariyama’s side; the other following suit on Hariyama’s other side. Hariyama was thrown through the air, smashing itself into the wall, collapsing onto the floor.

‘Now use Drill Horn!’ Nidoking’s horn began to spin as it lowered its head and charged at the defenceless Hariyama. Its horn was aimed directly at its heart; if it hit then Hariyama had no chance of survival.

‘Hariyama, use Whirlwind again!’ Kiyo suddenly shouted. Hariyama nodded its acknowledgement, leaping to its feet and beginning to spin, air picking up around it and swirling. Nidoking grew closer, its horn spinning threateningly. Suddenly, however, just as it was no more than a few seconds away from crushing its chest, it was pushed a few centimetres to the right. As Nidoking had entered the whirlwind, it had been pushed slightly. Unlike Crobat, who despite its ferocity in battle was still light, Nidoking had the heavy crushing power, but was still subject to the powerful force of the whirlwind. Even though Nidoking had missed its target, it was going too fast to stop moving and slammed into the wall, just a few millimetres from Hariyama.

‘Hariyama, now use Force Palm!’

Hariyama quickly grabbed Nidoking by the arm, gripping it with a strength that made even the mighty Nidoking wince. A blast of energy suddenly erupted from where Hariyama gripped its arm, blasting Nidoking away from it into the far wall. A wave of electricity frizzled through Nidoking’s unconscious form, the paralysis complete. Hariyama waited for its next orders, its fist clenched in a way that left no doubt about its desire to destroy its enemy. However, Kiyo simply looked at Giovanni, a look of disdain on his face.

‘Return,’ Giovanni said; the sound of disappointment in his voice. He looked at Kiyo, ‘you could have finished Nidoking fully. And yet, you refused. That was very foolish of you; I will not spare your Pokemon in return for that.’

‘I, unlike you, Giovanni, have honour and mercy. But do not mistake that mercy for weakness, for I swear that I will crush you.’

‘Brave words,’ Giovanni sneered, ‘but words are not enough to defeat me or my partner.’

‘Ah yes,’ Kiyo murmured. ‘I have heard rumours of this partner of yours. I never expected them to be real, however. Your pride is too great for any other to stand equal to you, for you have and will always stab them in the back.’

‘Then perhaps it’s time that my partner be introduced to you. This battle is over for me.’

‘So you surrender?’ Kiyo asked, clearly shocked by Giovanni’s words.

Giovanni smirked, ‘Certainly, I surrender. But in order to kill me, you’ll have to defeat my partner in battle.’

Kiyo smiled; his confidence obvious in his standing. ‘Then let him come, he and his Pokemon will be no match for my Pokemon. He will collapse as you did, and then you will both pay for your crimes.’

‘Then let us test your theory. Kiyo, allow me to introduce to you one of the most powerful creatures in this world, one of the greatest minds you will ever meet and the most cunning of all things. Mewtwo, reveal yourself!’

There was silence for a few seconds, before to Giovanni’s right, the air turned blue and a faint bubble appeared out of nothing. Inside the bubble was a dark humanoid figure that was slightly smaller than Giovanni himself. As the bubble faded, Kiyo stepped back in shock, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Hariyama, who hadn’t been returned, did the same as its trainer, its normally static features clearly shocked.

‘This,’ Giovanni said loudly, the room echoing with his voice, ‘is Mewtwo, the most powerful Pokemon in the world.’

‘Giovanni,’ Kiyo gasped, ‘what is this? Do you dare mock me?’

‘Silence, human.’ A stark, cold voice said. Kiyo looked at Mewtwo, his eyes even wider than they had been before. ‘You are blessed to see the rise of the new reign, under which Pokemon will serve no masters and humans will bow before the might of Pokemon everywhere in the world. Giovanni is amongst those who sees the future, and who willingly has dedicated himself and his organisation into achieving this goal. You humans force your Pokemon to battle for you; you kidnap them from their homes, their families. You take them from birth, and rear them to know no other life but the one you choose for them. Who are you to do this to Pokemon? What gives you the right or privilege of being master over all? You, who dared create me and who would experiment upon me, destroying me piece by piece and deny me freedom? I will destroy you all!’

Mewtwo carelessly threw its arm into the air, surrounded by bright light. Hariyama suddenly fell to the floor, its hands clutching to its head as it screamed soundlessly, before a heart-wrenching sound of crunching bounced through the room, and Hariyama fell to the floor, blood pouring out of every crevice on its body.

Kiyo, to his credit, didn’t waste time staring at the body of his Pokemon but threw two more Poke Balls into the air, summoning his last Pokemon. With a flash of red light, two Pokemon appeared in front of him; Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee.

‘Destroy it!’ Kiyo yelled desperately. The two Pokemon leapt at Mewtwo, Hitmonchan’s fist glowing as it prepared a Mega Punch, and Hitmonlee’s own foot glowed as it prepared a Mega Kick.

‘Pathetic,’ was all that Mewtwo said as its hand glowed again. Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan were forcibly trapped in mid air as Mewtwo’s psychic powers easily caught the two Pokemon. With a swing of its arm, the two Pokemon were thrown violently to their right. A loud crash and a tinkling of glass from a window to the outside was all that was left. The entire confrontation had taken less than ten seconds at the most.

Kiyo fell to the floor, tears pouring down his eyes as the full force of his Pokemon’s deaths hit his heart like repeated blows. The thoughts of his Pokemon danced through his mind; the first Pokemon he’d encountered, Mankey; in order to gain its respect, he’d had to battle with it personally for it to obey him. Without even realising it, Kiyo began to hover in mid air; a blue light surrounded him and the full force of gravity seemed to slam down upon him all at once. One final tear fell from his eyes as he soundlessly mouthed one last word. Honour.

Throughout all of this, Alakazam had watched silently next to the comatose body of Sabrina, its eyes taking into account everything that had happened. With one swift movement it pulled Sabrina’s Poke Balls from her belt and threw them into the air. Bursts of red light appeared everywhere as Sabrina’s Pokemon were summoned. Venomoth, Hypno and Mr. Mime all appeared at once; the looks of confusion disappearing from their face as Alakazam sent them a message through their minds. As one, their faces grew determined and full of righteous anger as they faced Mewtwo. Behind them, the air grew dark as a Gengar appeared, its normally mischievous face filled with hatred. Alakazam looked at the new arrival and nodded once, before turning back to Mewtwo, its eyes closing as if in meditation.

As one, Hypno, Venomoth and Mr. Mime all attacked; beams firing from Hypno’s pendulum; vibrations erupting from Venomoth’s wings in a damaging sound wave and walls of light coming into creation out of nothing as Mr. Mime created protective walls around them.

‘You would attack me, the one who would liberate you?’ Mewtwo asked, sincerely sounding confused before anger laced into its words; ‘Then you will be destroyed along with your Mistress!’ Mewtwo began to glow a bright blue colour, a shield appearing around it as Hypno and Venomoth’s joint attacks smashed into Mewtwo. Without even a hint of damage, Mewtwo began to walk towards the three Pokemon, the attacks continuing to bounce off of the blue shield. Wide-eyed, Hypno and Venomoth began to increase the power of their attacks; Mr. Mime building more shields in front of Mewtwo.

With a sudden white flash, Mewtwo simply walked right through the first golden shield set up by Mr. Mime; its shields simply obliterated by Mewtwo’s blue shield. Although unable to visibly smile, Mewtwo suddenly gave the impression of a very smug Pokemon as it raised its hand again; blue light humming around it as it suddenly slashed its hand to one side.

Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds, when suddenly Hypno gurgled, its hands clutching its neck as it fell to the floor on its knees, blood spilling onto the ground.

Another slash of Mewtwo’s hands and Venomoth collapsed from the sky, a high-pitched squealing emitting from it as its wings were crumpled and torn apart into shreds.

Mr. Mime in desperation pushed all of its existing shields in front of it, its hands frantically moving into delicate patterns as it created even more. Mewtwo simply slammed its fist forward, a blue arrowhead of light rushing towards Mr. Mime at an amazing speed, easily tearing through its shields and into its chest cavity. Mr. Mime remained standing for a few seconds, its hands weakly moving around as though it was uninjured before it too collapsed to the ground, its eyes already lifeless.

Mewtwo continued its march towards Gengar and Alakazam, the latter’s eyes still closed as though pondering an obscure fact. Venomoth continued to squeal as it scrabbled on the ground, its wings utterly destroyed. Without a single moment’s notice, Mewtwo slammed its foot on its head, and continued towards Gengar and Alakazam.

Gengar suddenly moved towards Mewtwo, its arms cloaked in darkness. It suddenly swung its arms; small bolts of lightning striking out towards Mewtwo. The shield once again held together against the assaults, although this time the marks where the lightning bolts hit seemed to last that little bit longer. Slowly but surely, its shield was being worn down.

Gengar suddenly halted and began to shudder; a dark pulse of energy seemed to implode from its body against Mewtwo. This time, the shield buckled, and Mewtwo flinched, its advance finally halted. Rushing to capitalise on its move, Gengar began to emit a purple colour around its body which then travelled to Mewtwo, also wrapping it in a purple colour. Mewtwo regarded the colour for a few seconds before turning back to Gengar, which simply grinned nastily at Mewtwo.

‘So, you would die for your trainer? You know the consequences of Destiny Bond; but then, I do as well. You would willingly die if it took me with you, is that not the case? But unfortunately for you, there are much worse things than mere death, I assure you.’ Gengar looked confused for a second, before its eyes widened and its grin disappeared. It turned back towards Sabrina before chains suddenly snapped out of the shadows and wrapped themselves around its body. ‘You know the consequences of delving too long within the spirit world; Gengar. You know the pain it causes you to see your dead masters through the ages. I now condemn you to an eternity of pain. Go now, greet your human masters!’ Gengar began to thrash frantically in mid-air before the chains began to pull Gengar slowly towards the shadows; Gengar kicking and screaming all the way before it disappeared into the shadows forever.

Mewtwo now turned to its last opponent; Alakazam, whose eyes were still closed. Just as Mewtwo took a step towards Alakazam, its eyes opened and it too took a step towards Mewtwo.

Mewtwo’s fist clenched, before it suddenly made a slashing motion with at Alakazam. Without warning, huge waves of blue energy began to blast at Alakazam from Mewtwo’s hands. Its eyes glinted as it saw hit after hit impact Alakazam. Finally, after a few seconds of Mewtwo’s devastating attack, only smoke rose from where Alakazam had been standing.

Mewtwo turned away from the battle, looking at Giovanni. ‘It is finished,’ it said solemnly. ‘What will you do with the girl?’

‘Sabrina?’ Giovanni asked rhetorically, ‘I want her alive. She may prove useful in the future.’

Mewwo nodded, ‘So be it, I will – AGHH!’

Mewtwo suddenly screamed mentally as a massive blast of energy exploded into its back, throwing it forward into the wall. Out of the smoke walked Alakazam’s image, followed by another one and another one. Six different Alakazam’s stood together in a line, their eyes staring fixedly at Mewtwo, who picked itself up; its eyes staring in hatred at the Alakazam.

‘How is this possible, you are nothing against my power; you should be dead!’

Alakazam remained silent and instead waved its arm. Mewtwo cocked its head to one side in confusion; nothing had happened. Suddenly, though, another figure appeared next to one of the Alakazam; Sabrina stood tall and proud, dried blood below her eyes and nose.

‘Abomination!’ She spat at Mewtwo. ‘You are not natural; you are not of this world! You will be purged and your very memory forgotten as though you never existed! You brought death and destruction to us; I will return the favour! Alakazam, destroy it!’

Alakazam, who while seemingly having been doing nothing during the futile battle between Mewtwo and Sabrina’s other Pokemon had been using its Psyche Up move that increased its defence and attack at the same time. Boosted to its maximum potential, Alakazam was most likely one of the most powerful Pokemon in the world; definitely one of the top two strongest, anyway. The question of which of the two Pokemon was the most powerful in the world would be decided in this one final battle.

Mewtwo started the battle; a blue shield formed around Mewtwo as it began to fire blasts of blue light at the Alakazam. One of the Alakazam was hit instantly; its body dissolving into thin air. The other five quickly spread out, their movements all individual from one another disguising which was the real Alakazam. Their own blasts of energy were fired from their spoons, different attacks each time at different times, a few of them actually causing damage to Mewtwo’s shield; the rest simply hitting the shield and dissolving causing no actual damage.

Mewtwo’s attacks continued to be frustrated as the Alakazam continued to teleport around the room; constant blasts hitting Mewtwo’s shield which was becoming more and more ragged with every hit from the real Alakazam. All of a sudden, five of the six copies of Alakazam disappeared and the remaining Alakazam fired a massive beam even more powerful than the attacks Mewtwo had seen previously. Mewtwo’s shield began to buckle, forcing Mewtwo to cease attacks in favour of maintaining its shield. The two Pokemon were at an impasse; Alakazam’s attack couldn’t penetrate through Mewtwo’s shield and Mewtwo couldn’t attack without losing its shield and therefore allowing itself to be hit with the massive beam.

Sweatdrops appeared on the two Pokemon’s heads, but slowly, Mewtwo felt the pressure begin to lighten; Alakazam couldn’t keep up that level of power forever.

‘You...fail!’ Mewtwo cried out triumphantly, knowledge of its impending victory directly within its hands. Alakazam would be helpless after the massive amount of power it used and Mewtwo would take revenge against this magnificent opponent who had shown it a true battle.

‘Not today!’ A voice suddenly screamed behind Mewtwo.

‘What?’ Was all that Mewtwo said before another blast of energy impacted Mewtwo’s shield from behind. Unable to take the force of two powerful Psybeams, it collapsed and the two attacks smashed into Mewtwo in its front and back. A terrible screaming came from Mewtwo, completely surrounded by the Psybeams. Suddenly, the screaming stopped and slowly, the two attacks faded away.

Sabrina breathed heavily where she stood; her attack had taken a great deal out of her, especially since she’d been forcibly trapped in her own mind by Mewtwo which had only stopped when Alakazam and Mewtwo engaged in the epic battle.

‘Now then,’ she said breathlessly, turning towards Giovanni who had turned a deathly white pale colour and had backed into the wall behind him. ‘I think it’s time that you faced your punishment for your crimes, Giovanni.’

With a single gesture, Alakazam waved its hand wearily; Giovanni was picked up by Alakazam’s psychic powers and hung in mid-air, stretched out in a star pattern. His muscles were strained to their limit, his limbs as far away from Giovanni’s body as they could get. Any further pressure would see him torn apart.

‘Giovanni, in the name of the countless thousands of deaths of humans and Pokemon that you have caused; for the trainers who died bravely in battle against you and Mewtwo; for the Pokemon who refused Mewtwo’s threats; for my Pokemon; for Kiyo and his brave friends; for the destroyed cities and most of all, Giovanni. This is for me. Say your final words so that the world may spit upon them as they see your dead corpse before them.’

Giovanni, despite his colour still stared defiantly at Sabrina. ‘You may call my crusade what you like; madness, foolhardy, evil, but I promise you, Sabrina. My work is not done and will never be done. You may kill me today, but my work will continue. My heir will take over for me one day and he will lead Team Rocket into glory. Savour your victory, Sabrina, for defeat will come to you in its own time.’

Sabrina sneered. ‘Brave words for a dead man. Do not fear; I will find your heir and I will destroy him as you will be destroyed. Your armies and resources will be ruined and the world will one day move past your devastation. Goodbye, Giovanni, may the Gods show no mercy to you in the afterlife. Alakazam, destroy him.’

Giovanni flinched as the order was given, expecting to feel the wrench of his limbs and the death that would follow as he bled out in a manner of seconds. But nothing...there was nothing. Giovanni let out a yelp of fear as he fell onto the ground. Sabrina spun around turned towards Alakazam.

‘Alakazam, what are you doing, I said –’ her words faded out in horror as she saw her Alakazam. Bleeding from the neck, it stared at her in a mixture of terror and adoration, even as its head slowly slipped from its neck and fell to the floor.

‘No...’ She said in disbelief as she stared at the figure next to him. ‘No...we killed you...it’s not possible!’

‘Oh, my dear Sabrina,’ Mewtwo said mockingly, burnt flesh and armour surrounding its body, smoke still rising from its body. ‘I very much assure you that this is very real. You cannot kill a God, after all.’ With a gasp, Sabrina was lifted into the air in exactly the same position as Giovanni had found himself in. Mewtwo slowly approached her, watching her squirm and thrash as the lack of oxygen caused her normally pale face to redden. ‘I will enjoy destroying your very body, human.’ It raised its arm as though to tear her apart with its own bare hands.

‘No!’ Giovanni suddenly shouted, causing Mewtwo to halt in midair; its eyes staring at Giovanni. ‘Do not kill her; I have plans for her. You saw the potential she has; she even used an attack on you! Do you realise what Team Rocket could do with her? Nothing would stand in the way of Team Rocket and your rule! Allow my scientists to examine her. Hell, if it turns out that she’s useless, then let my soldiers do what they will with her. I’m sure that they would be very interested in making her acquaintance.’

Mewtwo considered this for a few seconds before nodding slowly. ‘Yes...you are correct.’ It released its psychic grip on her neck, causing Sabrina to fall to the floor, coughing and gasping for blessed air. ‘You will need to keep her psychic powers in check, I will deal with that.’ It looked around the room before its gaze landed on Giovanni’s finger. ‘Yes, your ornament on your hand. Give it to me, I will use it to block her psychic powers while she still wears that ring.’

Giovanni looked at his hand in shock, looking at the ring in question. He rubbed it slightly, looking at the inscription on it for a few seconds. “To Giovanni, from your one true love; D. K.” Looking at it for a few seconds longer, he nodded slowly and pulled it off, tossing it towards Mewtwo.

Catching the ring in its hand, it began to focus its powers onto the ring, causing it to fade a blue and white colour before it ended up the colour black. Expanding the mass of the ring by several times, Mewtwo held the ring above Sabrina’s head and slammed it down onto her shoulders; the ring snapping onto the neck of Sabrina in a perfect fit. She scratched at the ring; trying to tear it off, but it was completely stuck.

‘Her psychic powers will be of no more consequence. They are still there but are inactive. She will cause no trouble to you. Do with her as you please.’ With those last words, Mewtwo lifted itself into the air and suddenly flew off out of the window, its glass long since destroyed in the battles between the Pokemon.

Giovanni looked at the ring now around Sabrina’s neck, a soft look in his eyes as he reached to grab Sabrina’s hair to drag her down to waiting Rocket Operatives. It was a sacrifice giving up that ring, but it had to be done for the benefit of his family.

He bent over her, his mouth next to her ear as he whispered, 'your power is fascinating, Sabrina. With you by my side, you will one day match the likes of Mewtwo, and even destroy him. As I created him, I shall recreate you in Team Rocket's image, and together, we shall rule the world.'


One year later

Giovanni sat at the head of the huge table in the dining hall; two servants stood at the corners of the room. In front of him lay a massive breakfast feast of every delicacy that could be imagined.

Suddenly, a young boy wearing a red and white baseball cap with a red R ran into the hall, giggling childishly to himself.

Giovanni looked at the small boy with fondness in his eyes. He got off the chair and onto one knee as he held his arms out, allowing the small boy to run into his embrace.

‘Hi Dad!’

‘Hello birthday boy! So how's your birthday been so far?’

‘It’s great Dad! Thank you so much for the Pokemon!’

‘Just be careful with that Pikachu. I decided to move away from the traditional Pokemon on Professor Oak’s advice. Despite his difficulties working for Team Rocket, he always did have a fondness for you, didn’t he?’

‘Thanks Dad, I can’t wait to use it in battle and be like you!’
Gionvanni looked at the boy seriously, staring into the boy’s brown eyes. ‘You want to be like me; is that what you’re saying, son?’

Ash Ketchum nodded seriously, looking at Giovanni with an earnest expression. ‘When I grow up fully, Dad, I want to be just like you!’

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading my story. I would like to apologise for any gruesomeness you encountered in my story if you didn’t enjoy it. But whether you did or didn’t, I sure as hell loved writing it!

Right, if you’re confused, here are some explanations. Mewtwo always seemed a bit too naive about humans, and when he was with Giovanni, he seemed to believe that he was partners. So if Giovanni wasn’t such an idiot and blew it by revealing that he never had any plans to rule the world side-by-side with Mewtwo, this seems to me to be the most likely result of what would have happened eventually.

One last point, the timeline is different from the animated series. I’ve had Mewtwo’s creation a bit earlier than it showed in the timeline so it fits in.

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Seven: Fighting


It hurt. It really did. That’s why he had to keep fighting. Maybe it was human, that even when we want to be done, just lie down and croak, we tend to get what they call a “Miracle” and we live on. Maybe another day, or a year, maybe a decade. It just happens. Yet at the same time, the person who revives you in the emergency room could be the person who kills you. It’s ironic, really.

Well, there’s an example. At first they seem like your average Pokémon trainer. A baseball cap, jacket, jeans, sneakers, and blue, aspiring eyes with a few Red and white balls at their belt. When you actually meet them, you learn that their long sleeve jacket covers a withering arm, plagued with a new disease that one in a million was ever infected with. They hadn’t battled with those Pokéballs in years. They weren’t aspiring. Yet still, Aaron stared at the sky, walking down a busy street.

Aaron was about fourteen years old. His left hand was shoved in the pocket of his red jacket, which matched his baseball cap. His other dominant hand punched in a number to a Pokégear angrily, coming up with the address “Doctor” and deleting it. He didn’t know why he hadn’t done it earlier. Maybe because he had tons of schoolwork to do. He noticed he had just past the Pokémart, and turned around to go back.

Inside the Pokémart, Aaron looked through the racks, seeing mostly magazines, toys, and the like. Near the back, there was a small grocery area. He picked up a gallon of milk, a TV dinner, and a few other things, and bought them for a small amount. He left the store and continued down the sidewalk, toward an average house. He used his thumb to pick up a key from his pocket, and opening the door while still holding the bag. He dropped it on a table, and yelled out.

“Mom, I’m home! Brought the groceries!”

He heard a reply from what was probably downstairs, and went to his room, which was decorated with hand-drawn posters of Pokémon. Aaron grabbed a notebook from his small white desk and continued on a half-finished Nidoqueen. There was a spot on his wall right next to a Nidoking that would work perfectly. But of course, as soon as he put pencil to paper, his Pokégear vibrated wildly. The screen read “Jake”. He flipped it open and sighed.

“Yeah?” Aaron asked in a somewhat cracked voice.
“Yo, Aaron! How’s it going?” An excited voice asked.
“Normal. Boring, covered in schoolwork, the usual.”
“You’re such a pessimist,” Jake replied a bit angrily, but he quickly recovered and continued.
“Well, I was at the department store, and in two days, there’s a Pokémon tournament!” He exclaimed.
“Yeah, and?” Aaron replied.
“I signed us up!” He replied, though sounding a bit nervous.
“You WHAT!?” Aaron yelled. He thought for a minute in how to continue.
“You signed us up for a Pokémon tournament when you know well that I haven’t for at least two years, and have no interest in it?”
“Well, why do you still carry around your Pokémon with you?” Jake quizzed. It took a while for Aaron to come up with an answer.
“Good luck.”
“You told me last week that you don’t believe in luck when we were talking!” Jake exclaimed, sounding only slightly triumphant.
“You know, sometimes I wonder why I still know you.” Aaron said plainly, hanging up and turning off the phone. He suddenly found it hard to draw.


* * *

The next morning, Aaron felt burdened, staring out his window onto the sunny street. A Pokémon tournament. Really. The things his friends got him into. The speckled ceiling seemed to stare down at him. After preparing himself a bowl of cereal and gathering everything (Which equaled a rather heavy sum) into his backpack, he left for school. It was a somewhat windy day, and his brown hair pushed against his head. He saw a tall, white building with many children his age around it, but he suddenly decided that school wasn't a necessity that day. He turned around and walked away, feeling sudden and large pangs of guilt. He tried to ignore them and walk home, which overall worked. His mom had left for work right after him, and she didn't get home until after Aaron was home. He opened the door with the key, and went to his room. He sat on the floor and painfully grabbed the six Pokéballs from his belt with his left hand. He put them on the floor, one at a time.

After Aaron had the six Pokéballs in a row, he didn't move for a solid five minutes. Then, he took a notebook from his backpack and furiously drew a picture. It took him about ten minutes to draw, and when he finished, he tossed it to the floor. Six Pokémon stood around a sketched version of Aaron. A tall half-shaded dragon-like being with wings and a flame at the tip of it's tail, a Charizard, was the first on the left. The second was what could only really be explained as a Nidoking. The third was what looked like an overgrown yellow rat with a lightning bolt tail, a Raichu. The fourth looked like a flying blue serpent, Gyarados. The fifth was a Bird that was a brownish color with four red apikes coming from it's head. It also had wings. This was a Fearow. Sixth was a small black plant-like being with a huge red flower on top of it, a Vileplume. Aaron was smiling and had six Pokéballs balanced on the index finger of his left hand.

He finished the picture of Nidoking next. He did the entire thing with his left hand, inducing a few tears. He took a piece of tape from his desk and put it near the Nidoqueen. Then, he drew what looked like a wierd dog-like thing with flames spewing from it's back, a Typhlosion. He tossed this to the ground. Then, he drew a Pokémon that was standing on it's hind legs, staring straight forward, and with a gash down it's side, A Zangoose. By this time, Aaron was drawing these extremely detailed pictures in three minutes, and all with his left hand. He was now straight out weeping, and tossing each picture to the floor. He was a natural artist, and was great left-handed. It just felt painstaking to use his left arm. He took off the sweater before continuing, and stared at the gray, dead-like state of his arm. He continued to cry, and draw with his left arm. By the time he was finished, the floor was littered with about seventy pictures of random Pokémon.

After a while, Aaron laid down on his plain bed, in his jeans and old white T-shirt. He waited until about 4:30 and called Jake. He simply asked when and where the tournament was. He was told at 6:00pm at the arena next to the department store. Aaron hung up abruptly afterwards. He then went and picked up the papers and tried to find places to hang them, if at all possible. He had to start using his ceiling, but he didn't mind.


* * *


The next day Aaron woke up in a haze. He could barely get himself ready. He was thinking about skipping his jacket that day and letting his most major flaw hang out, but he decided against it. He changed into a new pair of jeans and a red Polo. He got himself a bagel for breakfast and went to school. It would be suspicious if he was gone for longer. He found it extremely hard to concentrate that day. The only words he could remember from Biology, which was his first class, were "Yes", "Saguaro", and "Bye". Most of his other classes went the same. His small group of friends that actually knew about Aarons disease and overall cared for him cheered him on and wished him luck for the tournament, though Aaron reminded them that he didn't want to be in the tournament.

The rest of school seemed overall extremely boring and impossible to focus on for Aaron. At the end of school, he flipped open his Pokégear and found two new messages. One was from a random friend and contained a forward message that he had already seen. The other was from the Pokémon Competetivity Association. It reminded where to find the tournament and when to be there, and that they hoped he would win. Aaron found this a bit impossible, it being a automated message. Aaron closed the Pokégear and started walking home. The sky was clear and blue, and the sun was shining. The people around him seemed so happy. It made him want an excuse to explode and scream at the next person to come by him.

After managing to get home and do his humongous amount of homework finished, Aaron found the time to be around 5:00. He needed to leave. And he did. He walked through the overly happy crowd until he found the department store. It was about twenty stories high. Instead of walking in, Aaron turned left and walked about two blocks until he reached a dome-shaped stadium. He looked around a bit, and found Jake. He looked slightly Mexican, wore a pair of shorts, a blue T-shirt, and sandals. Before Jake could say anything, Aaron punched him in the face.

"Seriously? Forging my name?" Aaron asked before walking inside. The tournament was starting.


* * *


Inside of the building seemed much different than outside. There was an air of anticipation, and people seemed like they had been waiting months for it to happen. For about fifteen minutes, challengers and people wishing to spectate entered the stadium. Eventually a microphone-ampliphied voice came.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to the region's latest Pokémon tournament!" From this simple message, the entire crowd seemed to blast out in applause. The announcer went over the rules of the tournament, and when finished, a huge television appeared with 64 pictures of people on it, and a tournament ladder connecting them all. Scanning the pictures, Aaron could find Jake, and a somewhat familiar adult that he couldn't make out.

Six battles at a time, the tournament began. Aaron's ears were about to fall off because of the crowds roaring, but tried to live with it. His first battle was easy and uninteresting. An eight year old that had two Pokémon.
"Go! Charmander!" He yelled.
Aaron dropped a Pokéball, which let out a Gyarados.
"Scratch!"
"Surf."
A huge wave of water appeared out of nowhere and completely enveloped the Charmander before it could move, knocking it out.
"Go! Ratatta!"
"Hydro Pump."
The Gyarados let out a huge stream of water from it's mouth at the small purple rat. It was sent flying and hit the wall at the other side of the arena and had to be returned before taking serious damage.

Afterwards, Aaron sat down and sighed. He didn't want to be at the tournament, he didn't want to be at his school, he didn't want to have his disease, he barely wanted to be alive because it was so boring. The next battle was against a "Sailor". He had a Seadra and a Starmie, who were easily defeated by Aaron's Raichu. Two Thunderbolts. The person after that had a Venusaur, who was taken out by Charizard, a Quagsire that was taken out by Vileplume, and a Golem, who was taken out by Nidoking. Next was the person who seemed familiar. Jake was already out.

Walking up to the field, where only two battles were going on, including the one with Aaron in it, he could easily tell who the person was.

When Aaron was about six, he developed a rare disease that would kill him through his arm if left on the body. A doctor was supposed to find a way to replace an arm for Aaron, and promised to fix him. Instead, he completely forgot about Aaron when he won the lottery. Aaron was left untreated and was going to die within his teenage years. The person he was about to battle was that doctor.

Aaron's eye twitched with anger.
"Still here? even though you won the freakin' lottery?"
"Wait, huh? Who are..." The doctor thought for a minute. "Oh. You."
He didn't say anything but sent out a Magnezone. Aaron sent out his Charizard.
"Fire Blast!" Aaron yelled, fists cleched in either hand.
"Dodge! Thunder!" The Magneton attempted to float away from the fire, but took a direct hit, and seemed to fall to the ground, but recovered and shot a huge electric beam, which Charizard dodged with ease.
"While he's getting ready for his attack! Confuse ray!" A colorful ball shot from Magnezone and Hit Charizard, which seemed to make him wonder where he was. It was commanded another fire blast, but in confusion, punched itself with a Fire Punch. It was hit Straight on with thunder, which combined with the self-inflicted Fire Punch, was enough to KO.
Next, Aaron sent out his Raichu, who used Nasty Plot, which seemed to make him smarter. He dodged a Thunderbolt. The same thing happened twice more, and then Raichu hit it dead-on with a Thunderbolt, KO'ing it with ease.

Next, the doctor sent out a Probopass, and Aaron switched for Gyarados. Probopass tried to Thunderbolt, but somehow failed, and was nailed by a Hydro Pump. Next was Ampharos, who was easily taken out by Nidoking's Earthquake. The battle was now finished. Aaron won. But he didn't return his Pokémon.

"You..." He whispered.
"Huh? You should return your Pokémon..." He said, a bit confused.
"You killed me... and I'll return the favor!" Aaron then did the opposite of what he was told. He let out all of his Pokémon. He commanded Charizard a Blast Burn, Nidoking an Earthquake, Vileplume a SolarBeam, Raichu a Thunder, Fearow a Drill Peck, and Gyarados a Hydro Pump. All in the direction of a certain obliterated doctor. This also reduced the side of the stadium and about twenty other people to dust, along with the doctor. Aaron and his Pokémon's first instinct were to run. He returned all of his Pokémon except for Charizard, who he mounted and flew away on. He now noticed that he had been using his left arm a ton, and all the pain seemed to flood him as he disappeared in the sky. He cried on the Charizard's back.

"We...
We killed people. We're outlaws. I just can't do it anymore."
The Charizard grunted, probably with the same feeling, being extremely bonded with Aaron. It then noticed that Aaron was gone. He had fallen off the edge of the fiery dragon's back. He couldn't see him. He wasn't lying when he said he couldn't do it anymore.

He was done fighting.

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Seven:
Empty
**
Notes: This story takes place in a "Mystery Dungeons-esque" universe--though not quite the exact same one from the games. I'd place it at PG-13 for a rating.
**

It was a surprisingly warm day, considering winter was just around the corner.

It was early morning, and a Machop was climbing a cliff side. He lived in the small village just underneath it, to the south, and Machop had been trying for over a week to climb the cliff, and now it looked like he might succeed.

The village was called Lillyfalls, because of the waterfall above the river running past it, and the lily flowers that grew in the nearby meadows. It was a quite, small town where the only excitement was the sometimes dangerous wild Pokemon living in the nearby woods, which lied a few hundred yards behind the village, off east. He had lived their most of his life--he'd left his parents at a very young age, like most Machop, who valued independence and power. In the end, his name--Matos--was all he had from them.

Matos pulled himself higher up--he was sweating and taking deep breaths, but he could see he was near the top--the tips of the forest's trees were just visible. He was glad, as it would clearly show he'd been getting stronger, but also slightly saddened it also meant the one last test for himself was gone.

He was restless. The village was safe and comfortable, and his blood was screaming for excitement and battle--the closest thing to that here was the town protector's stories of his own life as a traveling warrior, fighting challengers and wild Pokemon for the thrill and for the sake of the fight. The Weavile, named Baris, had moved in only two years ago, where'd he'd been asked to stay as protector after single-handedly defeating over a dozen wild Pokemon that had raided the village, moving with such blinding speed that Matos could barely see his movements, and striking with such power his opponents were defeated with one blow each. Such combat prowess had immensely impressed the fighting type, and he spent as much time as possible trying to get new, exciting stories about past battles, or how he became so very skilled.

Baris was unenthusiastic at best about the Machop's attention, at first, seeming almost exhausted by it, but eventually the old warrior relented and sated him with a story or two, though he always danced around questions about where he had come from, and WHY he was so very strong--all his stories seemed to take place at a time where he was already the seemingly unbeatable veteran fighter--Matos assumed that the older stories just weren't as interesting, or that Baris was embarrassed about the mistakes he made or defeats he suffered earlier on--he'd probably do the same thing, the Machop reasoned.

And later, he'd opened up--they talked often, Matos invited him over for dinner at his home--he had even begun teaching the Machop some of his fighting techniques, though only those that he thought would also be helpful to a Pokemon that relied more on strength than speed.

These stories satisfied Matos for a time, but in the end it only fed his desire to leave and experience his own adventures, and so he'd decided to climb the cliff side behind the town, just because it was dangerous and pointless--like many good adventures. Still, as his grip loosened and, at one point, almost gave out, he was almost prepared to head back down when his hand found a flat surface above--he'd made it. With a surge of triumph he pulled himself and then rolled onto his back and collapsed, gasping for breath as he lied next to the river.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared and vanished just as suddenly, and a moment later a Kirlia was standing nearby.

"If you wanted up here you could've just asked me--or took the long way," the psychic type chided.

"It's not about being here, Larus...it's about getting here," Matos replied, still winded and taking in deep breaths. He rolled over and rose to his knees before crawling closer and splashing himself in the face with several handfuls of water before leaning down and taking a drink.

"You fighting types are ridiculous, putting your body through all this unnecessary strain," Larus sighed, rolling his eyes. The Kirlia had taken it upon himself to "look after" his friend, often seeming to ignore the vast differences in the two species. Matos found it annoying and touching in roughly equal parts.

"You psychic types are ridiculous--using your mind powers to everything so you end up soft and delicate," he replied, though with a playful tone.

Larus made a loud humph, arms crossed, "Well, if you feel that way..." and with another white flash he was gone.

Matos laughed to himself, and after a few moments of pause finally felt ready to stand up again. He cast a doubtful gaze down towards the village--perhaps it would be better to "take the long way", as Larus put it. The forest atop the cliff and the forest around the back of the village were one and the same--much of it had been cleared away over the years, but in the old days he'd heard the forest had extended to just a couple of meters from the town's boundaries. Near the back, there was a gentle incline down--he and Larus had taken the path many times to enjoy the view, at least until the Kirlia had learned to teleport.

***

It was a fairly pleasant day, with nothing more than powerful winds, so the long walk wasn't as unpleasant as it would have been in blazing heat, frigid cold, or a rainstorm like last week.

Though he supposed that would make it more interesting--he'd been through the forest so much he could identify every tree, flower, berry and log by sight. It was boring and all too familiar.

It did mean he knew he was getting closer to the village--the sun was slowly starting to dip down out of view in the west. Some of the villagers had talked about sunsets being romantic or beautiful, something he'd never fully understood.

And then he began to smell something--it was familiar, and as he realized what it was, his eyes widened in shock.

There had been a fire.

He began to run as fast as he could, reckless to tripping over tree roots or large stones. Did something go wrong at the bakery? Was everyone okay?

He was getting very close to the edge of the forest, now--his powerful muscles let him move very fast when he wanted to--in fact, the scenery seemed to be little more than a blur. As he finally neared the edge of the forest, he saw the village--or what was left of it. Several buildings seemed to have been completely burned down, leaving nothing but chewed out hulls and piles of burnt and destroyed wood, small wisps of smoke still rising into the air. His only relief, as it were, is that he spotted a group gathered in the middle of town. He ran as quickly as possible, needing to know what happened.

He began to approach slowly, and as he was nearing the gathered Pokemon, he was relieved to see they were, in fact, townspeople. He felt a surge of relief that passed as he realized many were lying on the ground, trickles of blood coming from them. Several were lying on the ground, staring up with dead, empty eyes.

A lump formed in his throat as he realized Larus was missing entirely--and many of the rest were hurt, nursing cuts and injuries, and several lying down and being attended by others. Nobody came to greet him--they all looked too exhausted or focused on the many injuries they'd sustained, or the dead friends and relatives before them--the elders had split off from the rest, and seemed to be arguing heatedly, though he could not make out what they were talking about.

There were three elders--a Fearow named Wendy, a Raticate named Jarid, and a Charmeleon named Andril--he got the impression that Wendy was on one side of the argument, and vehemently opposing the others, judging but the way she seemed to be standing apart and the others seemed to be focusing on her. He noticed, then, the pool of blood, with a trail leading from it out back. He was about follow it when he caught sight of Varyn, a Paras, wincing in pain at a large cut across one of his mushrooms. Wordlessly, Matos approached and kneeled down next to the Bug type, and began to wrap a bandage around it.

***

"What happened?" Matos asked. Varyn replied, his voice quavering.

"A group of Pokemon came down the road, from the direction of Goldbirch city...there was eight or nine, I think. They were all tough, fully evolved Pokemon. Their leader was an Arcanine. They ignored everyone, just walked into town, and than the Arcanine stood in the square and started yelling for Baris to come out, saying that he knew he was here. Well, the old guy came, as did a bunch of other villagers, and looked shocked for the first time anyone around here's known--Arcanine attacked him, and they started fighting."

"Who won?" Matos asked, though, with a quick look over the crowd, he could guess--the Weavile was not present, and a moment later Varyn confirmed his suspicion.

"It was a pretty even battle, and a couple buildings were caught on fire by Arcanine's attacks while they fought, but the Arcanine won, eventually..he leapt on top of Baris and tore his throat out with his teeth. Blood was pouring all over the ground. Some of us tried to help Baris, and then Arcanine's thugs jumped in and attacked us--they were strong--they hurt a lot of us...I saw poor Timmothy got a nasty cut from a Scizor, took his hand off...he lived, but they had to take him inside...and afew of us weren't as lucky..." he finished weakly.

Matos flinched--Timmothy had been a very young Meowth that had moved there shortly after himself.

"Then the Arcanine yelled at them to leave--there was only a few of them and more of the villagers started arriving to the fight, so he must've been worried about being overpowered. They headed off east afterwards. We've been trying to treat the wounded, now."

"Any plans for what we do?" Matos asked. Varyn shifted on the ground uncomfortably.

"Some of us want to go to Goldbirch and call the Guardians...but the elders are arguing over whether we should...listen, Matos, I'm sorry, but I really need to go home and rest..."

"Of course! Sorry, I shouldn't have asked you just yet..." then, his mind sharply reminded him of something, "Wait! Varyn, did you see Larus during the battle?"

"Larus?" Varyn asked, closing his eyes, presumably thinking. "No...I don't think so...if that's all, I really...need to sleep, just for a minute..."

***

Matos had seated himself at the end of the group closest to the elders. From here he could make out what they were saying, and the three were still arguing twenty minutes later over whether to involve the Guardians--Wendy was insistent they do, while the others were more reluctant.

Until about thirty years ago, the island had been controlled by Gray Acre City--all the the other cities and towns more or less sprung up from it as people moved away to start their own towns, and almost all of them paid tribute to their parent city. In return, it kept all the towns safe and stopped the larger, more powerful ones from overpowering or attacking the weaker ones--and many had reason to, as familial hatreds and rivalries went back centuries in some of the older families.

However, a civil war had broken out when an ambitious military leader in Gray Acre attempted a coup. He failed, but the city's power was crippled. As a result, various towns and villages were unprotected, and criminals and the more violent wild Pokemon formed roving gangs to pillage, burn and murder, while some of the old families began attacking each others. Thousands were killed, and whole villages were wiped from the map--it was later called "The Black Decade".

The Guardians were established by the Grey Acre city council in direct response--many members of Rescue Teams, or old members of the government's defense force enlisted.

Their goal was to bring order to the chaos and conflict by ending the factional warfare and stamping out the roving marauders and raiders--with force, if neccesary.

The group is highly controversial. Some said they had far too much power, people whispered about dangerous captives vanishing, and while families involved in the fighting were rounded up en masse and imprisoned.

The reason, Matos reasoned, they were reluctant to report the Arcanine's attack is because he was clearly looking for Baris. Nobody knew much about him--if it turned out he had been a member of one of the warring families--or worse, a marauding gang--the entire village could be arrested for harbouring him unknowingly.

Matos felt a surge of fear at the idea--and made an immediate decision.

Standing slowly, he took a deep breath.

"Tell the elders they don't need to call the Guardians," he said suddenly. Several of the other Pokemon looked up, confused by this statement, and curious.

"I'll find this Arcanine myself..."

***

Ten years later...

"I'm telling you, it's true! The famous Matos the Machamp has been seen comin' towards town!"

This exclamation was met with general indifference--nobody in town really took anything the Haunter said seriously, as it seemed he dashed into the diner every few weeks with another claim. The Roselia minding the counter didn't even listen, idly cleaning a glass as he emerged from the door leading into the kitchen.

"Sure, Viv, we believe you...just like the time you claimed the leader of the Guardians was coming!" a Vulpix laughed, bending over to drink out of her milk-filled bowl.

"Oh, c'mon, now, Stephany, he's getting better--Matos is still alive, after all, while that old Flygon's been dead for nine months!" a Graveler laughed, then took a large gulp of Pechi Berry juice.

The Haunter named Vivaris (whom everyone called "Viv") glared in annoyance. Why didn't anyone ever believe him?

It was then that the door was shoved open. The still laughing Graveler dropped his glass--which shattered loudly--and stared in awe as a Machamp walked in.

He was large even by his species' standards, wearing a sun beaten traveling cloak, and a well recognized scar running under his eyes and above his mouth, and carrying a large, heavy looking sack over his shoulder.

He seemed to ignore the attention he was getting--he wordlessly walked past the staring Pokemon, sat down carefully on a red diner stool, and waited for the Roselia to come over, at which point he quietly ordered a drink and meal.

"I told you," Vivaris said, smirking.

"Lucky guess," Vulpix said, though barely paying attention to the ghost. A crowd slowly gathered around the muscular fighting type, yet he remained silent and almost still, only nodding a thanks the waitress when his lunch arrived--almost half a dozen sandwiches, and a large glass of juice. He took several large bites, finishing two whole sandwiches in each, followed by a long, deep sip, and spoke.

"Any port towns nearby that take Pokemon off island?"

"Farir Town, just east and on the coast," the Roselia said, staring wide eyed and unable to tear himself away from the counter.

"Thanks," the fighting type replied. Suddenly, the kitchen door swung open, and an irate figure walked out.

"Thorn, could you hurry it up, we don't have all day..." he paused--it was a Gardevoir, who froze up at the sight of the Machamp--his eyes rested on the well known cut.

"Matos?"

The Machamp looked up, and his face showed something other then indifference for the first time since he entered--surprise, and perhaps a hint of happiness.

"Larus?"

He was different--but still the same. There were subtle differences, true, but just as many similarities.

Matos continued to stare, but finally smiled.

"Larus!" he shouted, throwing himself over the counter and hugging the Psychic type.

"Matos! Matos, what the..." there was a bright flash, and the two vanished.

"Guess we're closin' up early today," the Roselia named Thorn muttered.

***

"...hell have you been doing these past years?"

The two had reappeared, courtesy of Larus' teleport, in the middle of the Gardevoir's living room--it wasn't especially large, but it was cozy enough--there was a chair and a couch on opposite sides of the room, a table lying next to the chair. The Machamp released him, and Larus let himself fall into a padded chair. Machamp sat down more slowly on a nearby couch, slowly realizing his old friend wasn't as happy to see him as he hoped.

"That's not really..."

"If you say "important", I will blast you with Psychic," Larus warned. "You just ran off without seeing me? Right after the godamn village was almost burned down and nine of us killed?!"

"I had to leave! I had to find them! Where were you, anyway?!" Matos shouted, rising to his feet.

"I teleported to Goldbirch to call the Guardians. When they arrived with me, the elders told me you'd left ten minutes before we got there, staying just long enough to help the injured and bury some of the dead before saying you'd "handle it" so the Guardians wouldn't arrest the whole village, or some stupid excuse like that," Larus replied coolly.

"At the time, we were all suspicious of the Guardians! Nobody knew what was going on! I wanted to protect the villagers!" Matos shouted, rising to his feet.

"Those were just rumors, Matos--there was no reason to think the Guardians were going to arrest the entire village--the elders just bought into those stories being passed around...just like you," Larus replied.

The psychic type sighed and began to massage his forehead. "So, again--what have you been doing? Where did you get that cut, for starters?"
Matos replied, slowly and reluctantly. "Right after I left..."

***

It was a very dark night, with the moon mostly covered by clouds.

Matos watched carefully from the tree top--there were only four of them, so either Varyn was mistaken about how many there were in the fight, or some split off. Maybe both. The Arcanine, a Scizor, a Hariyama and a Stantler were camping in a small clearing in the forest. The Scizor was awake, leaning against a tree and watching the others; the rest seemed sound asleep. Trying to control his breathing, Matos examined the area around it--he couldn't win a fight against even one of them, he imagined. If he could take the Scizor out with a surprise, though, he could get the rest while they slept.

Slowly and as quietly as he could manage, he climbed down and began to tiptoe around the campsite--trying to get behind Scizor. The metallic Pokemon did not seem to notice him, and after what seemed like hours he'd made his way to Scizor's side, still concealed in the foliage. Finally, restraining himself from shouting, he leapt.

In a single clean movement, Scizor moved to the side and swung his bladed arm up, cutting cleanly underneath Matos' eyes. The fighting type was sent flying back by the momentum, his back crashing hard against the tree. Gasping in pain, he stood and ran.

"Come back, you pathetic coward!" the Scizor yelled, and Matos could hear his heavy footsteps. Machop took a hard turn left and kept running--in this dark, there was no way the creature would catch up to him. Finally he found what he was looking for--a river he had passed by earlier. Holding his breath, he jumped in and began to swim underneath the surface. The water wasn't clean and irritated his cut, but he kept going until he began to feel faint--his air had run out. He emerged just long enough to take another deep breath and submerged again, continuing his flight until he once again needed to surface.

This time he pulled himself out of the cold water and gasped. He looked around--he had escaped, it seemed. Wincing, he rubbed the slash on his face. He needed to get healed, but he had no idea where he was. Was there a town nearby? Or at least some Oran berries?

As though by divine intervention, he saw a small bush covered in the familiar blue berries. Pulling himself closer, he pulled several off and began to eat. He felt better, slightly, but a quick touch revealed that the slash had not healed over, even if the pain subsided.

***

"If I'd made it to a proper hospital, it probably could've been fixed. As is, it just stings a little sometimes. Nothing major," Matos finished.

"Right. So if you were trying to track down Arcanine, why were you accompanying rescue teams into dungeons? "Freelance" they called it? Did you need the money?"

"Partly..." Matos replied.

***
Seven years earlier

Matos knocked the Steelix down with Low Kick--he felt pleased at his increase power, to defeat sucha powerful creature. Nearby, the others were defeating the rest of the wild Pokemon--a Seviper, a Elekid and the team's leader, a Wartortle, finally the wild Pokemon fled, clearing the way for the Oddish that was cowering in the corner--his older brother had seen him disappear into the large cavern, and had asked for a Rescue Team to help.

"You're safe now," the Wartortle said kindly. "We'll teleport you out with us using the Rescue badge."

"Not me," Matos declared. "I'm not finished, yet."

"You really want more treasure, huh?" Wartortle teased. "Well, you were pretty helpful on the way down! Thanks again!" he said. Matos nodded in response and continued down a corridor. He did need the Pokedollars, of course, but it was the fighting he was really after--it made him stronger and stronger. He'd been following the Arcanine for a months before finding out that his query was, in fact, a registered member of a Rescue Team--Team All-Stars. Upon finding out, Matos examined the Team's public roster, and found that none of the others that had come with the Arcanine, apparently named Cereth, when he attacked were part of the group--probably hired muscle, than. It only raised more questions--Team All-Stars accepted jobs from poor Pokemon that couldn't offer much, and even rescued some Pokemon that couldn't offer anything. Cereth seemed practically a saint, in fact--so why did he attack the village and murder Baris?

It didn't matter, he supposed--it just meant he was the only person that could bring him to justice, since everybody else would imagine he was a wonderful person. Now that he could find him, he was free to prepare--to get stronger, by entering the dungeons and battling the wild Pokemon.

On some occasions, like this one, he went into the dungeons with Rescue Teams--for the more infamous ones he didn't think he could handle alone.

It was dangerous work, and he was hurt often, but he simply pictured Baris, his mentor and friend, and the others buried back home in graves out by the forest, and of the burned houses, Timmothy's missing paw--it gave him all the strength he needed.

A Sandslash emerged from a turn in the corridor, glaring and baring it's long claws.

The two rushed each other, and he sent the ground type flying with a powerful punch--it fell unconscious as it hit the wall.

And Matos felt a rush of power--he felt himself growing...

***

"I was more interested in the fighting, so I started taking jobs that didn't pay much--or at all. That's why people think I'm some kind of hero, I guess," Matos said. "I kept saying I wasn't, but that made me think I was more of one."

"You should have went around, claiming to be the greatest hero in the world--that'd have done it," Larus answered with a hint of humor.

"What about you, then?" Matos asked. Larus shrugged, reclining back.

"Nothing exciting. I left Lillyfalls a few weeks after the attack to travel. I found an appreciation for cooking--worked in a bakery for several years, and saved up enough to start my diner here. Would you like a drink? Your lunch was interrupted."

"Thank you," Matos replied. The Gardevoir simply nodded and rose, walking out silently to the kitchen.

***

Five years earlier...

The others were celebrating.

He wasn't. It was just another rescue mission, after all. He simply sat quietly and drank--the others were cheering, happily talking with one another, some were dancing.

Matos had been invited, after a recent mission to the bottom of a very long dungeon to locate a lost Nidorano, to come back to the team he'd entered the dungeon with’s base to celebrate. He'd wanted to refuse. He tried to refuse.

But here he was, and he still didn't know why or how.

And Danny, the team's leader, was trying to strike up a conversation with him. The Riolu was polite and friendly, and seemed desperate to befriend the Machoke--perhaps wanting to invite the well known fighting type to join as a permanent member.

"You were really strong down there! I thought me and the others were tough, but you're amazing!"

Matos grunted in reply, taking a sip. "You're not bad...you just need more experience," he said.

"Thanks! Say, why don't you join a team, anyways? You seem to go on missions all the time!"

"I don't like being tied to one place," Matos replied, taking another long drink. It was true, even if it was only half the reason.

"Isn't it great, though?" Danny offered. "I always love going down there--it's an adventure, and we get to help all those poor lost Pokemon!"

Matos sighed and set his glass down.

"You really enjoy this, don't you?" he asked, and the Riolu nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. Never forget that," Matos said. The Riolu looked at him, puzzled, but he said nothing more, and after awhile, Danny stood up and walked off to speak to his team mates.

***

Larus re-entered with two glasses; he gave one to Matos, who nodded and began to drink while the psychic type sat down and began to drink his own. Neither said anything for some time--content to simply be there. But finally, after a long pause, Larus spoke.

"So, here's the big question...did you ever confront Cereth?" he asked.

Matos looked up from his glass.

"Yes."

***

Three years earlier...

The door to Team All-Star's small headquarters opened just long enough for three Pokemon to dash out before slamming shut.

Hidden nearby, Matos watched. He had been watching them for weeks--one member always stayed behind during a Rescue Mission. And this time, it was Cereth.

He was strong, now,. Unbelievably strong...he could do this. Matos took one long, deep breath as approached the front door to the headquarters--it was far out of any towns and isolated. He paused as he reached it--and took another breath. It was time to do this. He opened the door and stepped in--it was unlocked since, after all, this was a Rescue Team's base--Pokemon visited to ask for help all the time.

And there he was.

Cereth was in the lobby, alone, resting on a small couch. He expected it--he'd come here every day to watch the building, and today the rest of the Team was out on a mission. It would be easier if they were alone.

The Arcanine looked up and smiled, standing as he did.

"Good morning. Do you have business with Team All-Star?"

"This is a personal call, actually," Matos replied, and punched him. Cereth recovered almost immediately, growling before he released a powerful Flamethrower from his mouth. The Machamp raised his arms and braced himself; the attack hurt, but he withstood it. However, a second hit him right after, and this time his defense was broken; a moment later the Arcanine slammed into him, pressing him against the wall and biting his arm.

"Who are you and what are you doing?!" Cereth demanded angrily. Matos struggled--the Arcanine was incredibly strong--but he was, too, and with a roar he suddenly tore his arm free and slammed the dog in the face with his strongest Dynamicpunch--Cereth yelled out in pain and fell back, his left eye closed as he struggled to stand again.

"You killed my friends and razed my town! I've waited ten years for this, you bastard!" Matos yelled, diving forward and hitting the fire type twice more in rapid succession, dropping him.

"Ten...years?" he choked out weakly. "You mean Baris? That murderer deserved..."

Matos interrupted him by bringing all four hands down, balled together like on giant fist, onto the fire types skull--a loud crack filled the room and he did not rise again, a trickle of blood slowly leaking out of his head. Matos reached down and pressed his hand against his opponent's neck.

He was dead.

***

"I see..."

Larus closed his eyes, clearly not surprised yet still disappointed to hear how it had ended. "Why didn't you let him explain why he killed Baris?"

"I don't think it matters--he came into our home, he killed people..."

"You were scared," Larus cut him off. His eyes opened, and he stared sadly at the Machamp. "You didn't want to hear it, because he might have the exact same reason as you. You didn't want to associate yourself with the monster you set out to destroy, so you didn't let any possibility that you and he were even slightly alike come up."

"I have to go," Matos replied tersely, standing up. Putting his glass down on the table without a look at his old friend, he walked to the front door and pulled it open, "Good luck with everything," he added before slamming the door shut, the building shaking slightly.

***

The Machamp walked down the street--he was leaving for Farir immediately. There was nothing on the island for him anymore.

Maybe there never was--he'd been bored and tired at Lillyfalls. Afterwards, everything he did was wholly devoted to revenge. After he'd killed Cereth, he had no purpose to continue--nothing to do. He tried going back to the dungeons but he was simply going through motions--going in for the same of doing something.

Worst of all, why did Larus have to bring up that possibility? Why hadn't he at least listened to the fire type? Was he simply too angry? Or was he too scared? Or maybe he thought that if he actually talked to him, it would be harder to kill him.

But it didn't matter, now, because Cereth was dead, and he had killed him, and he had felt grim satisfaction for a fleeting moment...and then nothing. For three years, he'd continued traveling, doing entering the dungeons, doing freelance rescue missions, feeling nothing but the desire for revenge. Now he had it, and nothing filled the void.

So now, he had a new task to devote everything to--he'd spent three years searching the island for something that would make him feel alive again--he'd go to the mainland and search there, now--a new goal to obsess over and let drive him. That was, perhaps, the answer itself.

It was, after all, all he knew, and perhaps that would be enough.

It had to be.

***
End

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Eight:

No Leaf Clover

It was already late by the time that I arrived at the precipice overlooking the village. The radiant sun had long ago set beyond the horizon and its pale counterpart risen in the sky. The nocturnal breeze whistled around me, lightly ruffling my snowy white fur.

Many would consider my presence near this human settlement an ominous warning. After all, my kind has often—and mistakenly—been considered the creature that brings disaster. Humans especially fear us, lashing out toward us should we approach their establishments. As such, we have been forced to move deeper into the mountains, farther from them.

However, this was a time that I desperately needed help from a human. Any human that I could find. Someone that could help my mate. If I couldn’t…

It all started a little more than a week before. My mate, Senka, and I had gone out for a walk with our young daughter, Charna. It was the first time in nearly a week that we could really go out and enjoy the mountains, as it raining for a long time before. Charna ran out in front, exploring the terrain of the area, while Senka and I brought up the rear.

Charna seemed to have come upon something unusual. As it is with young Pokémon, she was quite curious about it. Senka must have recognized the dangerousness of whatever it was, as she immediately moved to keep our daughter away from it.

That’s when it happened. Senka let out a cry of pain. I ran over to her side and was shocked by what I saw. A pair of jaws had clamped down upon her left rear leg. But these were different from the kinds of jaws I’d seen before. For one, they were not attached to any creature. Rather, they seemed to from the ground. Not only that, but they were made of not flesh and bone, but of steel.

It took most of my strength to open the jaws so that she could get her leg out, almost getting my face caught in the snare as it snapped back shut. I turned my attention to my mate. Her leg was badly damaged. The bone in her lower leg had snapped and was pressing against her skin, almost bursting through. The teeth of those jaws did break the skin, and crimson stained what was once all white.

I ended up carrying Senka back to our den. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far away. I laid her on our bed, then tried my best to treat her injuries. However, this was beyond any injury I had dealt with before. I ended up trying to clean her wounds and cover them to prevent dirt and other pathogens from further making things uncomfortable.

I spent much of my time at the den, tending to her and help to care for Charna. Things appeared to be going well initially. Charna helped me out a lot, collecting some fruit that grew near the spring. And each day, Senka became more and more independent. I began to relax some. She appeared as if she was going to be okay.

However, that didn’t last. I was woken up in the middle of the night by a cough. At first, I disregarded it, figuring that someone must have inhaled some dirt, a common occurrence when you sleep so close to the ground. But as the night wore on, the coughing got worse and worse. I rolled over and saw Senka wide-awake, hacking like there was no tomorrow. I went to her aid, trying all I could to make her comfortable and help her breath.

But things only got worse. She became sicker and sicker. Her temperature was incredibly high, challenging that of a Fire-type. Her coughing became more violent, and I swore that I saw her spitting up blood, though she frequently denied it. I was worried. I tried all the remedies that I could think of to treat her, but nothing helped. We were forced to just hope it would get better. And it didn’t.

I had no idea why she was sick. The only thing that I could think of was that she had become susceptible after being injured and something had gotten into her system. And now, it was beginning to take its toll on her. She looked less and less vibrant. It was like I was watching her wear away in front of me.

It was after a few days of failed treatments that I approached Senka with an idea. I would search for a human to help us. It sounded like a suicidal mission. After all, I had heard many stories about the things that they would do to us if we were seen. Yet there were other tales, of how they possessed amazing healing powers. This seemed like the only option that could help her.

Senka, on the other hand, was not too keen on the idea.

“Don’t do it, Ares,” she said, struggling to hold back from coughing. But this failed, and she went into yet another fit.

I reached over and tried my best to support her. “You’re not getting any better,” I reasoned. “Besides, this could be an opportunity to salvage our kind’s reputation in their minds.”

Senka shook her head sadly. “No, I don’t think anything could change their minds,” she countered. “I want you to stay here…with me. With Charna.”

“It’s not that far to the village. I’m sure that I could get you help before nightfall.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I promise not to do anything stupid.”

She considered it for a moment. “All right,” she conceded, although I could tell she still had much doubt. “But please, be careful.”

I helped make Senka comfortable in her bed before I set off for help. Before I left, I took one last look at my mate. She was sleeping, but it was far from a peaceful rest. Her breathing was labored and wheezy.

Before I left, I spotted something unusual sitting outside the den. In a small clover patch, there was a large four-leaf clover. I knew the symbolism behind it, but had never thought much of it before. However, given my luck the previous few days, I figured that we could use the extra luck.

So carefully, I picked the green and gave it to Charna. “Keep a hold of this for me,” I told her. “It will hopefully bring us all luck.” She seemed to understand, and promised to take care of it.

And thus, I found myself overlooking the village below. I hadn’t anticipated on arriving this late in the day. However, I had gotten into a spot of trouble with a group of roguish Graveler, accidentally stepping into their territory. I was just able to escape without causing an all-out riot.

I can’t stall any longer, I thought to myself. I have to do this. For Senka. So, I began to descend down to the village.

The slope I was climbing down was quite steep and covered in rocks. Each step I took sent small rocks tumbling down the hill. I reached the bottom quickly. I glanced back up, hoping that there was an easier way to get back than that. But for now, I had to find some help. I ran toward what appeared to be the main street of the town.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that something wasn’t right. The buildings were boarded up and falling apart. Windows that weren’t boarded up were smashed; shards of glass still stuck within the frame. I could hear boards creaking as small rodents ran through the buildings. One large building in particular looked quite disheveled. A large shape hung above its entrance crookedly, making me believe that it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

I don’t know how long I went walking through the village. It appeared that it was abandoned long ago. This meant there was no help to be found here. Disappointedly, I started to walk back toward the cliff.

Then, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A light. I turned toward it. There, pretty much as far from the cliff as possible, was a cabin. I watched as the shadow of a large figure walked past the window. I recognized the shape. It was a human. I ran toward the cabin, hoping that finally this nightmare might end.

I was no more than a few lengths from the cabin when the door flew wide open. The suddenness caused me to stop in my tracks. In the entranceway, a hunched over man stood there, looking out toward me. He had little hair on the top of his head, but he did have a large amount sprouting from his chin. It was almost as white as my own fur. He wore clothes, as humans call them. I can’t name specific articles, but they covered most of his body. He held a long object in his hands. I couldn’t tell what it was from where I stood. Cautiously, I moved forward. As I did, he began to raise the thing in his hands.

Suddenly, I heard a loud explosion and saw a pretty bright flash. Almost instantly, I hit the deck. Something hit the ground next to me, kicking up some dirt. I peered back up. Smoke was coming out of the end of his weapon, and I heard numerous clicking noise and the tingle of metal hitting the ground. That’s when I realized what he was holding. It was something that I was told to absolutely avoid my parents, yet now I found myself staring down a man possessing one. A gun.

He began to walk out toward me. “Damn Absol,” he muttered in angry voice. What I did to incite, I had no clue. But I knew one thing: he wasn’t going to help me.

I don’t think I have run faster in my life, trying to get out of there. Initially, I didn’t think that he was following me. However, the next report of the gun and the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the ground confirmed I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Quickly, I ducked into an abandoned building along the main road, hoping that I would lose him.

How long I sat in that shelter, I don’t know. As I sat there, catching my breath, I could hear the man walking down the road, cursing under his breath. I would hear mention of “that damn Absol” and other curses directed toward myself. I kept wondering why he was after me. It didn’t make much sense. But I knew that the reason didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of the village.

I peered out the door down the street. There were no signs of the man. This might be my chance, I thought to myself. Taking care to make absolutely no noise, I made my way down the thoroughfare. My senses were on highest alert. My eyes darted around for signs of the man or his deadly gun. I was listening for any footfalls that would alert me to his presence.

Suddenly, I heard a shot go off. I had no idea what direction it was coming from, so I ducked as best as I could. The projectile just avoided hitting me directly. However, it skimmed right over my right front leg, taking some of my fur and skin with it. It stung quite a bit. I did my best to ignore the pain and run toward where I came into the village. Unfortunately, throughout all the running and dodging, I had forgotten about the steep slope to get out. I only remembered when I found myself staring the incline down. I was trapped.

“So, you thought you could get away?”

I turned around. The man was approaching me, gun pointed directly at me. I didn’t move, determined not to show any fear.

The man chuckled grimly. “So you think you can stand up to me?” he asked sarcastically. “I admire the courage. It’s a shame that your kind brought about the end of this village.” He lowered his gun for a moment, but still kept it up so I tried to run he could get a shot off. “Your kind would appear by our village and we always suffered. Rock slides, blizzards, flash floods. And it was all because of them.”

If I could communicate with humans, I would have most certainly argued with him. But, that not being the case, I could only take the verbal lashing. He wanted me dead because he believed my kind was causing the disasters.

“Everyone else left this village because they were afraid of you,” he continued. “But I stayed. And I’m determined to rid the earth of your kind.”

He raised his gun up to position. This gave me a chance. Swiftly, I swung the sickle growth on my head around, sending a quick burst of air toward the man. Before he could react, his weapon was knocked from his hands, leaving him defenseless. I walked toward him, threatening to attack again.

The man scrambled back, trying to get to his weapon. I could’ve attacked him right then and there. However, I decided not to. I just wanted to escape from there without causing any more trouble. So I attempted to ascend the hill. It was not an easy task. The steep incline made the task difficult, especially with my injured leg. And that didn’t factor the ground constantly giving way under me with each step. There were a few times I was almost sent tumbling back down. But I kept going.

Things didn’t get easier as the man started shooting at me. I wondered how many more of those bullets he still possessed. It didn’t matter though. I was right there at the top. All I had to do was go over the top and I was home free.

Suddenly, just as I was about to summit the hill, the ground disappeared from under me. It was only a matter of time, but I wished that it’d happened after I was over the hill. Desperately, I scrambled to get to a sturdy platform. At the last possible moment, my paws gripped a solid piece of land. Using all my strength, I pulled myself up and over the top of the hill.

I heard the man cry out below me. Perhaps he had been hit by a falling rock. I didn’t bother to look, though. I needed to get out of there. I turned, looking for the path that I had taken on my way down. It wasn’t hard to find. I left behind a few slashes in the bark of some of the native trees to differentiate it from any other path. After taking one last glance to make sure I was safe, I was off.

Even though it was dark, I could see pretty well. The moon was full, shining down so bright it was almost like daytime. I didn’t bother to slow down to look around. I just continued to run.

But after a while, the adrenaline rush I had wore off. I began to fall off the pace some, and the wound on my leg began to really sting. I decided to take a little break at the spring.

The spring was a secluded place, far off any path that humans would follow. Only the local Pokemon really knew of its existence, so it wasn’t strange to see some other mountainous creature come up and take a drink with you. When I arrived, there was no one else around. Not surprising, though, since it was the middle of the night.

I did my best to scoop water into my paws—not an easy task, mind you—and rinse off my injury. This was because I didn’t dare to stick the injured limb into the water hole. After all, everyone used it for quenching their thirst. I wasn’t going to contaminate it.

I winced a little. The pure, clear water of the spring stung upon contact with my wound. However, I figured that it would be better to clean it off now than continue to let dirt get into it.

My eyes looked up on the spring. It is one of those places that was best to be seen at night. The full moon shone down on the rippling waters of the spring, giving off an eerie glow. A few night flowers were in bloom, open wide to show off their beauty. The sound of the water bubbling up from some unknown source was a soothing background piece, helping to complete the scene.

I sighed, looking down at my reflection. Initially, it was just my reflection staring back up at me, a tired, weary face that seemed to have aged many a year in a period of days. But other things began to surround it. Images of the past.

This spring was a very special place for me. It wasn’t just a place where I could find water, though it had served that purpose for a long time. It was also the place where I first met Senka, all those years ago. It was where we spent many an evening together. It was where I asked Senka to be my mate. It was…

I turned away. There was no use in reflecting on the past now. I had to get back to the den and back to my afflicted mate. Hopefully, I could resume a search for help the next day. So just as silently as I entered the clearing, I left.

As I approached the den, I began to feel a sense of dread. Charna was sitting out at the entrance of the cave. Obviously, she knew why I had gone out and awaited my return. She came running out to me as I approached.

“Daddy, you’re back!” she cried excitedly. However, her demeanor changed instantly when she got a closer look at me. I hadn’t bothered to clean up a lot, so I must have looked a bit ragged. She looked over me with great concern. “Daddy, are you okay?”

I nodded curtly, trying my best to reassure her. “How’s mommy?” I asked, hoping for an update on her condition.

Charna said nothing. Her silence made me worry. I walked with her back into the den, afraid of what I might find.

As I entered, I noticed that the den was unusually silent. There was no heavy breathing, nor was there coughing. I turned my gaze to the bed. Senka was laying there, eyes closed. At first, I thought she was asleep. But as I walked closer, I realized that she wasn’t.

Desperately, I felt her chest, hoping to feel it rise and fall. Nothing. I moved my paw over where her heart was, hoping for a beat of life. Nothing. I leaned over toward her mouth, listening for breathing. Nothing. I pulled up, the realization finally sinking in. Senka was gone.

Charna came up next to me. She appeared to want to ask me something, but the moment she saw my face, I believe her question was answered. Her eyes began to tear up. I embraced her as best as I could, trying to comfort her. She buried her head in my shoulder, crying. I could hear her muffled voice, begging that it not be true. But both of us knew it was.

As I sat there, comforting my daughter, a realization hit me. Senka hadn’t wanted me to leave earlier. Did she already know that tonight was going to be her final night? Had she wanted to spend her last hours with me? Did she only give in to my request because she couldn’t fight me?

I felt ashamed of myself. I hadn’t paid attention to the signs and as a result, I left Senka in her greatest time of need. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. Much more than any physical entity could’ve inflicted.

I looked down beside Charna. Sitting beside her was what looked like a small stem. And surrounding it were four once green leafs withered and dead. It was the one thing that I’m sure no one has seen before, or seen again. A no leaf clover.

Finally, I couldn’t take it any more. I rested my head into Charna’s shoulder and joined in her crying. Everything had gone wrong. Instead of finding luck earlier today, I had only found a masquerade of it. I had found death. And it took away the most important thing from me.

 

[Ho-oh]

Entry Number Nine:

A Crimson Life

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Bates,

I don’t feel comfortable referring to you as “Mom and Dad” anymore. Sorry. But although the biological definition of “parent” is merely one who provided the genetic material to create a child, the word really implies so much more. It implies a person who’s there at the end of school to ask how your day went, for you to ignore with a vague answer. It implies a person who pathetically tries to keep up with the latest trends and fail spectacularly. It implies a person who will make you angrier than anyone else possibly could, even if you know in your heart they are ultimately right when you are not.

It implies someone who doesn’t continually neglect you from infancy and appear more often on television and scientific journals than in person, in other words.

If anyone’s been my parent over the last several years, it’s been my butler of all people. Gregory, to you I truly am sorry. You’ve been of more value than even my ridiculously wealthy genetic donors could possibly pay you, and certainly come closer as a “parent” than my flesh and blood parents. From being there for my acceptance of each of my National Awards in the Field of Robots, to tending to my arm wounds received from my best friend, and to providing support as I underwent the anxiety of learning to use training bras and tampons, you’ve certainly been one of the two solid figures in my life; one of the two living creatures I could expect to always be there.

Although I know you shall never hear these words, I also want to address you, my dearest friend in the world. You have scared and scarred me more than I like to think about, but for years you served as my only non-metallic companion who wasn’t being paid for it, possessing undying loyalty at every moment, and for that I thank you. I again want to express my deepest gratitude for your becoming a martyr, simply for my pleasure. I’ll always remember our time spent together. If you excuse the first few years of that time, of course. I was simply too young. Where you even came from, I can’t remember. I suppose it possibly could have been you, Mr. and Mrs. Bates, giving me yet another reason not to care for you too much.

Was it you? Because giving a Scyther of all Pokémon to a girl only a couple years old is unbelievably sick. Have you not seen the freaking thing? It’s a Scyther. It has scythes capable of cutting through solid walls, hence the name. Who in the world is stupid enough to present a Scyther to a little girl? That thing could have dismembered or guillotined me in my sleep, for all anyone could know. It’s really a miracle that I managed to even survive; cuts and slices come off as relatively okay.

In fact, over time I began to enjoy the pain! Of course in my younger childhood, I was absolutely terrified out of my mind… I mean, here was this giant, green bug slicing me to bits! I would, oh, say, fall out of my bed and immediately feel sharp pain into my arms and sides as Scyther would return me to my bed, unaware of the damage it was inflicting. Yet as the years passed, it began to hold an appeal. Aside from Gregory, nobody seemed to care or notice me unless I had done something of scientific significance. Obviously, my young mind figured, I didn’t deserve it.
Scyther’s arms transformed from a terror to a self-imposed punishment. Nobody around to sing me to sleep? A slice down my upper arm. Nobody wanting to congratulate me for my straight A’s? An incision up my inner thigh. These created an intimacy between the two of us. Scyther would cut my guilt away and make way for pleasure. I had this coming, I thought. I needed this, I needed the blood to flow. Red quickly became my favorite color.

What crossed the line was destroying my creations. The ability to translate a vague idea into a developed plan then into a physical product capable of responding exactly to your demands creates a sense of unmistakable power. These mechanical devices of your creation are yours, will always be yours, and can only do what you command them to. Nothing in the world gives such a wonderful feeling. You two may remember this from a time before you merely invented for profit, began looking for ways to use your skills for the money, not the thrill. Of course, we all know after a while your genius inventions were really nothing but your own - from what I’ve found through some research, even our skyscraper mansion was ripped off of a similar mansion in the ridiculous-sounding HopHopHop Town.

In any case, it was Scyther’s desecrating my inventions, my toy robots, my communication devices, my everything, that I could not do with. I’m sure it was completely unintentional, just like I’m sure Scyther had never intended to harm me. Having giant blades for arms must be a pain. Yet that pain would be the end of the results of my hard work time and time again, and nothing in the world could have made me so furious.

Once I realized that Scyther clearly could not break this awful habit, I quickly came up with an answer. I am a girl genius, after all. Scyther would have to change from my only non-metallic companion to simply one in a long line of metallic ones. While a Scizor can still demolish objects, its range of destruction becomes much more limited; only a grip could bring about my work’s end. No longer could simply turning around or an involuntary reflex destroy my precious creations. I bought a Metal Coat off the Internet and never regretted it.

About a month after evolution, Scizor learned the move Hyper Beam. Where exactly it did I have no idea; do Pokémon often simply learn techniques seemingly out of thin air? Wherever it came from, it sparked the idea of Red Lightning. Being out of town so often, I doubt you even know of this local figure, so I’ll explain: for a short while, a cloaked figure terrorized the kids of this city by quickly and easily defeating their Pokémon in battles. He could talk and use attacks that never missed, and had the odd habit of drawing on his victims faces. In order to create Red Lighting, one must use one Scizor, one microphone, one radio, one com-link, one trajectory calculator, one dark red cape, one felt-tip marker, and one genius. That would be a signature Luna recipe, thank you very much.

Why did I do it? Well, why do you think? I was royally pissed off! I had no real parents, my closest friend was a literal monster, and quite frankly, I really hate mediocrity. Who do these people on the street think they are? Are they nationally recognized? Can they whip up beautiful creations on the spot? Could they hoodwink the entire city for an extended period of time? No, no, and no. So why do they always seem so happy all the time? I just don’t, can’t understand it. So I may as well get back at them in any way I can.

After getting thrills out of these local people’s idiocy for a while, some kids in a hot air balloon tailed Scizor back home. I managed to blow off some of their friends with a decorative tree rocket I had come up with for extra security, but they didn’t seem to care in the least. No, I am not making this up. I still think it’s strange this group of kids thought they had the right to sneak onto my property the way they did.

Yet somehow they managed to convince me to drop the Red Lightning gimmick. Allow me to explain: kids my age and near it are a rarity as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never had or wanted to go to school with children. Those highly-paid teachers and tutors you provided saw to my education before I started to enroll in online college courses at the age of eleven. So social interaction really isn’t my thing. Kids are those annoying, distant brats running around on the streets and the park or those drama queens on television. Having a group of four kids right on my front lawn really took me aback, to say in the least.

Looking back, it all feels so ridiculous. Scizor just about lost to one boy’s Sceptile, and then Gregory went as far to tell these strangers the parts of my sob story he was aware of, or at least the parts he was willing to. One girl, May, responded by telling me about how little she interacts with her parents while on the road; it made me a little less alone. We had a battle, and afterwards May promised she would see me again.

She lied. That girl left and I never heard a word from her again. She hadn’t even given me an e-mail address or anything! I’ll always feel so humiliated now. In the days following our encounter, I spent days and nights thinking about her: a girl who could understand me, who could give me a shoulder to cry on and just talk to about anything. Yet she was just a passing stranger, providing hope and never coming back to see me fall.

In retrospect I see what a phony she is; here she was, whining about never seeing her parents. So she rarely sees her parents, the people who loved and cared for her for ten years? She presumably chats with them every time she makes a stop to fill them in on her details of her life? She travels all over the country with three human companions and several Pokémon companions, meeting new people and coming upon new places every day of her life? Boo. Hoo. Cry me a river.

Red Lighting was retired that day, but I’ve moved on to bigger and better things. If this is the way people around me will act for now and forever, as if I’m not even there, then I really don’t care for people that much. That’s why I created Red Thunder. Nobody will ever know the name but me, but it amuses me to no end, at least. Just think: with a single device, I can make everyone in a specified range simply drop dead via a simple, untraceable electric pulse. With some adjustment, I could very well have created the single most dangerous weapon the world has ever known. Any nation would pay top dollar to have their hands on it.

It’s not the money I want, though. I am not a Bates, despite what my family name says to the contrary. I’m me. I want chaos. I want every living human terrified of the concept of themselves and the people they know simply ceasing to exist any longer, with no known cause or logic. Killing everyone in the world would be drastic and impossible, of course, but I’ll make due with mass paranoia and panic.

I do wish Scizor didn’t have to be my test model, of course, but I really didn’t have any other choice. In order to conduct my development properly, the test subject’s reactions needed to be properly measured, and I don’t see myself as physically capable of kidnapping a person and strapping them into recording equipment. It had to be Scizor; there was no alternative. Scizor kidnapping a person would be too likely to end in authorities catching on. Going out and using a Zigzagoon or Pidgey would not wield adequate results, as smaller Pokémon aren’t close enough in shape or size to humans. Scizor was the only option, simple as that. There was nothing I could do about it.

I think if you’re still reading this and not trying to leave the room, you’ll realize by now that you can’t live any longer, just like Scizor. You too, Gregory, although it just wouldn’t be right to not allow you the knowledge of my reasons for suddenly leaving. Don’t worry about me, your bodies will all be properly disposed of like Scizor’s was; the police will likely suspect we all disappeared from the same place, so I doubt I’ll ever be pinpointed for the Red Thunder massacres. So Mr. and Mrs. Bates, I hope you spend your last hour or so considering everything you could have done differently. At least be glad I’ve given you some time for self-reflection, something you likely never would have done otherwise.

Goodbye,
Luna

P.S. In case you’re wondering, I’ve been tracking May on Pokémon Contest websites ever since I learned of her being a Coordinator on the day we met. Rumor has it she’s a shoo-in for the Grand Festival of the region she’s currently in. I wonder if that competition could use a little shaking up by some thunder.

 

[woops]

Y'know, these are all in a black font. hard to read. On the other side, I don't know if people who wrote are allowed to vote. Is this allowed, imagining that they didn't vote for the own entry?

 

[Ho-oh]

Y'know, these are all in a black font. hard to read. On the other side, I don't know if people who wrote are allowed to vote. Is this allowed, imagining that they didn't vote for the own entry?

Yes, I changed everything to a single font: Verdana size 2 (I would think this being 12 point font) black. You should view it with the Erika's Garden skin.

And no, since not every author would be coming here that often, contestants may not vote.

 

[kaeim]

Ok, wow, that's a hell of a lot to look at. haha! I'm going to have to do this 2morrow, there's no way I can get through them 2nite

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Yes, I changed everything to a single font: Verdana size 2 (I would think this being 12 point font) black. You should view it with the Erika's Garden skin.

No. No, you don't get to tell people what skin to use. Every skin has a default font color, and you went out of your way to make every single story completely unreadable. I just had to go in and edit all those stories, including one that for some reason had coding on EVERY PARAGRAPH, to make them the default color and font.

 

[Ho-oh]

No. No, you don't get to tell people what skin to use. Every skin has a default font color, and you went out of your way to make every single story completely unreadable. I just had to go in and edit all those stories, including one that for some reason had coding on EVERY PARAGRAPH, to make them the default color and font.

It was my bad, but please hear out my appeal.

No, it is because one of them, as I specified in a PM, was originally black and "unreadable" (in fact, this was very difficult for me to change too due to having coding everywhere). To maintain uniformity, I changed everything and said people should use a specific theme for ease of reading, not because I felt like they had to.

Apologies for any inconvenience caused.

 

[Transfinite]

To maintain uniformity, I changed everything and said people should use a specific theme for ease of reading, not because I felt like they had to.

The best way to maintain uniformity is to make everyone use the default font color.

 

[Akiyama]

So contestants like myself cannot vote? Ah well, everyone else has to take a look at all this then.

And by "the highest number of votes." You mean the highest average vote ranking a story got? Like a story gets a 10/10, a 5/10, then a 9/10 that would be an 8/10 average. If it were the highest number of votes plainly--guessing from how lazy people may get--then story number one would win, hey people can get that lazy (even though there are many other good stories just below).

 

[Aladar]

I think it's the highest vote, not score... and surely members here aren't that unoriginal... they'll juust choose a number from 1 to... was it 9 or 10... or whatever... XD

 

[Gama]

It's a shame to here entrants can't review, but I suppose that's fair enough. If people post their stories in seperate threads when the competition's done, I certainly will be reviewing because some of these are really good.

Oh, and you've labelled both Fighting and Empty as Number 7, so there are actually ten entries rather than nine as it appears.