TEEN: - Complete The Power Within

[Whisper in the Wind]

To get things out of the way, if you want to contact me about anything my contact information is in my profile and my primary emails are "[email protected]" and "[email protected]"

Well, this is along the lines of my 7-9th Rewrite of the Power Within (the latest 1 on SPP was the 4th version of it, so I've tried rewriting this about 5 times, though a couple of those were similar thing so I don't know if it counts). I was trying to write my 1st Chapter when it ended at less than a page yet it felt complete so I decided to go ahead with it and make it a Prologue. Most people who read the original know in what direction the fic goes, but this Prelude gives some kind of history to the main fic.

If you didn't guess, credit goes to Dragonfree's rating system.

Anyway, done with the speech, on with the Fic.

The Power Within​

Rating - PG13
Violence: Mentioned but not heavily described
Gore: Mentioned but not heavily described
Sexuality: None
Profanity: None
Other: None

Prologue

South of mainland Hoenn sat Dewford Island, the single square mile of it. However, only a small percentage of this island was inhabited by humans. A calm peaceful fishing town to the island’s west was the only thing of tourist interest, consisting of a small population of seafarers and fishers. An abandoned Pokémon Gym was tucked away at the far east of the Dewford Island, forcing quite a journey on trainers a while ago. No Pokémon in Dewford were unique to the island and therefore, there was no special reason for trainers to arrive on the island anymore. In fact, there was no reason for anyone not native to Dewford to arrive on the island. It was this that caused such confusion to those who remembered the day Dewford was wiped off of the map…

****

“What’s that?” a fisher muttered to his crewmate, staring at a silhouette that covered the setting sun.

“Who knows? Who cares?” his crewmate replied, not even bothering to look away from his net.

“Seriously! Dave, look,” the fisher replied insistently. In the distance the silhouette appeared to grow. He dropped his fishing equipment and peered closer, shielding his eyes as small rays of light burst forth. In seconds it turned from a distant shadow to a giant eyesore. “D-Dave…”

“What James?! What?!” he spat back aggressively, frustrated that his peer was interfering with his work. Only to quiet his James, he glanced up before his face dropped and he fell into silence.

“Dave…” James started, fear echoing from his throat. “Get on Radio to the…”

A spray of flames enveloped the fishing boat and by the time it had cleared not even ash was left floating on the ocean’s surface.

****

Millions of triangular scales lined a hundred foot of emerald serpent, a creature that spiralled his body through the air to travel at jet pace, destroying anything that stood in his way. By merely gliding close to the water he could cause a tidal wave with no effort. A simple heave could crush a skyscraper. But when this creature focused himself not even the heavens could resist his might…

As he approached, the people of Dewford Town began to scatter. Children’s screams filled the air as the odour of death began to fill the streets. Rayquaza swooped down, his hand which was miniscule compared to his body was at least the length of a fully grown male. Upon each hand, three razor sharp claws would stick out, cutting apart flesh and bone with no effort required. The beast landed hard on the dock, crushing the main building with his huge body. Slithering on his tail, he made his way forward, slashing away. Blood stained his emerald skin as each swipe severed another body. Frightened faces lay attached to stiff bodies wherever he moved.

The panicked screams were silenced in minutes. The emerald serpent had alighted the entire island in his legendary flames and burned everything to a crisp. When his fire died down, all that was left was a giant grey rock, sticking out as an eyesore south of Hoenn. A satisfied grin formed on the emerald beasts face as he saw that attention had been drawn. He shot away from sight in moments, leaving the world in fear that what happened to Dewford would happen again…

 

[Whisper in the Wind]

This time around, I'm separating bits of the fic into parts. This first section is what would be referred to as a 'Prelude' (because there isn't a better word for it)

Although not a hundred percent necessary to the story, this part of the fic is designed to give some insight to the history of the main storyline (Although it may set up false implications as to who the main story is about).

Part 1.0 - Prelude​

Rating - R
Violence: Some
Gore: Some
Sexuality: None
Profanity: None
Other:
- References to cloning and mistreatment
- Human deformity

Chapter I - Experiment Gone Wrong

A circular white room surrounded the child. Years of genetic separation and cloning projects had led to only one thing. A mistake. He was five, and in five years he had already grasped the ability to speak every known human language and the common language of Pokémon articulately. He could write novels with ease, showing no grammatical or spelling errors. He drew artwork equal to the creations of the most recognised artists, showing immense creativity and accuracy. Puzzles, riddles and the like would be solved in seconds. He was ‘the perfect human’. When it came to matters of the mind…

Physically, he was an eyesore. His forehead was flattened in a steep diagonal curve, rising to a plateau-like head at the top, slightly sloping downwards from back to front. Two tiny lumps with holes at the top replaced ears. At the back his head was a curved lump, smooth and hairless, like the rest of his body. A spaghetti like tube stuck out of the upper part of his neck to the lower part, seeming to stick into his back as the spinal cord. His small three foot tall body consisted almost entirely of his waist and above, being hideously abnormal. Although his back maintained the normal bone structure, he lacked a ribcage. Instead, under his chest plates was where his stomach and other vital organs were. However, he lacked one vital organ which puzzled all the doctors who had analysed him. He lacked a heart…

The doctors couldn’t figure it out. He had veins and arteries, but no blood flowed through them, causing his skin to become coloured as an unhealthy lavender. Whenever they tried to inject blood into his body it would only leave it as excrement. Somehow, his body could function without a heart, without blood and without any form of breathable gas. He was human, but in a way, he wasn’t…

The everlasting question lingered in the minds of all the scientists who had worked on him. ‘How could we strive for the perfect human being, calculate without flaw, and end up with this?’

****

“One,” a man in a white suit addressed, looking at the experiment without a single sign of disgust. He was used to seeing ‘One’ a lot. He was One’s personal psychiatrist, hoping to find someway of entering the mentality of the experiment.

“Yes Doctor,” One said in acknowledgement of the doctor’s arrival in his naturally high voice. His indigo eyes never turned to look at the doctor however, instead, they remained focused on the canvas that lay in front of him. With both hands he was painting two completely separate pictures. To his left was a drawing of a young teenaged male, surrounded by Pokémon, and to his right was a picture of an emerald serpent, the mythical Rayquaza.

“One. Would you mind looking at me when I talk?” the doctor asked in a slightly condescending tone.

“Sorry Doctor, but I must finish this,” One insisted. “It is important.”

“But we have a session scheduled,” the doctor said, determined to get One to converse with him.

“Please leave me be doctor. I want to finish this.”

It was very noticeable that no matter what One said and no matter how he said it, there was no change in volume, tone or pitch in One’s voice. However, you could tell by his words that there was emotion in his voice, and it was his choice of words that made the Doctor realise that One was not about to desert his paintings. He nodded respectfully and walked towards the door, leaving One sitting cross-legged, painting his two pictures.

“There is something wrong with that child,” the doctor stated, exiting One’s room. The nearby scientists gave a puzzled look, feeling that it didn’t require stating. The doctor looked at the confusion in their faces and continued. “He is obsessed with paintings.”

“Yes Doctor, he has thousands of them. It’s his favourite hobby. You’d be amazed how much money we make from these pictures,” one of the scientists in charge of his isolation stated. “He pays for more than the canvases. He pays for his food, his electricity and almost all of the equipment we use in surveillance of him.”

“Do you know where I can find copies of his other art?” the Doctor asked, curious to see what ideas he had. To his knowledge, all that One knew of the world was within his circular room. He never questioned as to what happened once the black door closed and he never made any attempt to leave. It puzzled him how he had such a clear picture of the world outside his room and how he could depict it so clearly in his paintings.

“Some of his newer stuff is kept down the hall, room ‘7703’, here’s the key,” one of the scientists stated, handing him a silver key and pointing him in the direction of the room.

The Doctor nodded his thanks to the scientists and headed for the room. Unlocking the door he found to his astonishment what appeared to be a warehouse full of artwork. He swallowed as he realised how long it would take for him to study each painting to the point he had a full idea of its inspiration. It was an agonising process, but for thirty minutes he restlessly looked through a collection of pictures made several months beforehand. They were all pretty basics, portraits of animals, people and Pokémon, occasionally ones with all three involved. One picture that confused the Doctor was a picture that depicted a rabbit being eaten by a Mightyena who in turn was being shot by an armed hunter. It was clear that he was depicting ‘The Food Chain’, seemingly in disgust due to the depressive colours of the background.

“Wait a sec!” the Doctor said to himself, something in the corner of his eye catching his attention. He carefully placed the painting he was currently analysing to the floor and moved over to the one that now had his full attention.

The painting was vividly coloured, depicting an Emerald serpent circling a burning seaside village. It didn’t take the Doctor too long to realise what the picture was. “But it’s dated eighteen days before it happened,” he stated fearfully. “How…” he paused as he tried to comprehend what it meant. “How could he know about it?” He lifted up the picture and held it between his arm and abdomen as he headed back for One’s room.

Upon arrival he burst into his room without his usual knock, sliding the painting to his side and dropping to his knees. “One.”

“Yes Doctor?” One said, wondering why he was back so soon. His pictures were not finished and he had requested that the Doctor would not return until he was finished.

“Where do you get your inspiration for your pictures?” he asked in a tone that suggested that he held a dominative position over One.

“I see the pictures in my head,” One stated in his usual emotionless tone, “and then I draw them.”

“Where did you get the inspiration for this one?” the Doctor asked fearfully.

“I saw that happen,” One stated. “In my mind.” A sinister coldness went over the room as One went silent. After a few soundless seconds that were only broken by the sound of One‘s paintbrush, he continued. “The emerald creature moved from his home to Dewford. He then punished the evil people and went back home.”

One looked at what appeared to be completed pictures. His mutated three finger hands grasped at a painting each and he rose them up to the same level as his head, rising to a vertical standing to show the Doctor his new pieces of art. “Do you like them Doctor?” One asked, his indigo eyes showing pride in his drawings.

“What are they?” he asked, curious as to how One would explain the situations. On one hand, a young black-haired teenaged male stood, surrounded by Pokémon that appeared to belong to him. The atmosphere of the background was dark, full of misery, showing no signs of hope. In his other hand, was the portrait of the mythical Rayquaza depicted heroically, bursting out of flames in the background, seeming to have triumphed at some stage.

“They will meet,” One stated, an eerie glint forming in his eyes. “And they will fight. And no one will forget it.”

The Doctor swallowed in fear. He was know sure of it. One could see the future. It was how he knew what was happening in the outside world. The Doctor wasn’t sure how much of the future One knew, but One knew enough about it to become a threat. “It’s,” the Doctor started in a trembling voice. He paused, pulling the glasses from his face and wiping them to stall for time to find the right words. “It’s nice,” he finished, the nervous shaking implying unintentional insincerity.

“Thank you Doctor,” One replied, nodding respectfully and placing his paintings in the corner of his room. “I think I shall retire now. Good night Doctor,” One said, curling up into a ball on the ground.

The Doctor nodded nervously and walked towards the door, his face covered in shock.

****

“How did you make him?” the Doctor asked insistently, slamming his hands down on the desk of the head scientist, Doctor Jefferson.

“Andrews,” Doctor Jefferson addressed in a disrespectful and condescending manner, “you are a psychiatrist. How we created ‘One’, as he likes to call himself, is on a need to know basis. And you do not, need to know,” he stated, snarling spite in his words.

“Doctor Jefferson, do you have any idea what we created?”

“An abomination!” Doctor Jefferson shouted, cutting off Doctor Andrews before he could finish. “I know. He was something that was never meant to be.”

“Then why did you make him?” Doctor Andrews asked angrily.

Doctor Jefferson sighed and rose to his feet, walking towards the window to stare at the empty blue sky as he recalled his reasons. “Do you have children Andrews?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t. My wife died a long time ago.”

Doctor Andrews went silent, dropping his head to avoid looking at the scientist, knowing the scientist’s next sentence would be emotional.

“I’ve never had a chance to feel, that, that,” Doctor Jefferson struggled to find the true word that described how he assumed it felt to see your child for the first time.

“Joy?” Doctor Andrews interrupted, hoping that was the word that the scientist was trying to find.

“Yes!” Doctor Jefferson stated, turning back to face Doctor Andrews. “I’ve never felt the joy of creation.” A smile begun to form on Doctor Jefferson’s face as he recalled the joy he felt when One first moved. “Ten years ago, when the ‘Perfect Child Project’ was first conceived, Mister Roseburg came to my department and asked me if I would front the project. When he told me the details of the plan, I couldn’t resist.” He went silent, recalling the details of the project. “The idea was that we would take all the good genes of people, Pokémon and animals, and place them all in one being. In effect, creating the ‘Perfect Person’. There’s even some of me in him,” Doctor Jefferson stated proudly. “We spent four years, cloning, extracting genes, breaking down cells over and over again,” he explained.

Doctor Jefferson had gone silent for a few seconds and Doctor Andrews felt it was time to interrupt. “And then?”

“Then we finally had the ‘Perfect Calculations’, the right numbers, the right genes, it was all perfect,” Doctor Jefferson stated, his mood lightened and full of hope. “We even found the most beautiful girl to carry him.” Doctor Jefferson walked back to his desk and removed a picture. “Look at her, isn’t she the most beautiful girl you’ve seen?” he asked, pushing the picture in front of Doctor Andrews’ face.

“She’s pretty,” he replied in a tone that beckoned Doctor Jefferson to continue.

“Nine months later she gave birth to him.” The scientist stalled, his mood seeming to darken. “At first, I was so happy. Until I realised…”

“That he wasn’t what you were expecting,” Doctor Andrews said, cutting in.

“Exactly. Mister Roseburg was horrified. He wanted the ‘Perfect Son’ to inherit his business, and all we could give him was this monstrosity.”

“Which Pokémon genes did you use?” Doctor Andrews asked curiously.

“All of them. Just like we used a gene from every animal. We even used a gene from each scientist working on him.”

“When you say all of them. Does that include the psychics, Alakazam and the like?”

“Of course,” Doctor Jefferson stated. “Why would we leave them out. Their brains are exceptional. We wanted him to be able to gain knowledge with ease.”

“He’s gained too much knowledge,” Doctor Andrews stated. “He can see the future!”

“What?”

“Look at this drawing he made,” Doctor Andrews insisted, showing the painting that depicted the destruction of Dewford and pointing to the date on it. “One marked it eighteen days before it happened.”

“I’m sure it’s just one of the boys tampering with it, or maybe One even marked it wrong.”

“One never makes a mistake,” Doctor Andrews insisted, “and I checked, no one touched it.”

“What do you suggest we do about his ‘Predictions’?” Doctor Jefferson asked sarcastically, finding humour at the ridiculous idea of One being able to predict the future.

“I suggest we get rid of him, before he gets in the wrong hands.”

****

“One,” Doctor Andrews addressed in a kind voice, entering One’s room nervously.

“I know what you are going to do to me,” One stated. “And you will regret it!” One insisted, raising his voice for the first time in his life.

Before Doctor Andrews could even reply he felt something get caught in his throat. A moment later he felt pain, striking along his throat. Something jerked and then his eyes rolled into the back of his skull.

One pulled his hand out of Doctor Andrews’ throat, holding a bloodied pen in his hand. He bent down in a stalking manner as he slid out of the door. Around him he saw a handful of busy scientists whose eyes were buried in their work. He slid behind the nearest one and jammed his sharp fountain pen into the side of his throat, not making a single sound as he moved onto the next one…

****

One wrapped himself in a cloak and ran away from the laboratory, leaving the white building in flames from the destruction he had caused. The fire was accidental, but he knew it would happen, he just never knew it was he who would incite it. Either way, a fire engine was bound to arrive and from there he could hijack it and make his way towards the main city.

The group of fire trucks was visible in the distance and One prepared his makeshift machete, sliding behind some green bushes. In total, four fire trucks arrived, eight men to each one. It wouldn’t be easy, but he would succeed.

Most of them unloaded into the building immediately, leaving six men behind manning the four hoses. One snuck up behind the nearest truck and picked his spot. All six men had their eyes on the flames and he could at least kill two before they even noticed his presence. One charged for them, his feet hardly making a sound as he leapt into the air.

A swift swipe caught a fireman in the neck, sending his head spinning off of his now lifeless body. He jammed his machete into another fireman’s stomach and quickly turned, slicing a leg off of another. The other three called for help loudly, two off them backing away while the other was frozen in fear. One left the scared one as he was, charging for the two who fled. His speed was outmatched which was extremely odd for a boy who hadn’t run before in his life. As he caught up with them he leapt forward, turning his machete downwards and jamming it into a fireman’s spine. He quickly removed it and threw it like a discus at the other and severed his head.

His cloak was bloodied all over as he approached his blade. His three fingered hands picked the machete from the ground and he turned his attention to the last fireman. He was still frozen in the spot, the only movement being the shaking in his lips and the tears leaving his eyes. The small child approached, machete in hand. He smiled sickly and jammed the blade into the fireman’s leg, causing him to fall to his knees, his head level with One’s. One used his free hand to open the fireman’s mouth and then took the machete into both hands as he jammed it down the fireman’s throat. The blade stood perfectly vertical, surrounded by blood that sprayed from his mouth like a fountain.

One wiped his hands on his cloak and looked to his left. He quickly ran into the open door and pressed down on the acceleration and sped away to freedom…

****

Life was much harder than One had expected. Children were cruel, teasing him about his appearance. Wherever he went in the city, people gave him disgusted looks, their mouths gaped open in horror of his mutated face.

He soon became so insecure that he stole a Halloween costume, wearing a monk-like hooded cloak that hung above a white mask. Unfortunately, this only made things worse for him. People refused to give service to him in shops and people still taunted him, although this time it was along the lines of “Halloween was last month” or “Your face is so ugly that a mask isn’t enough”. Paranoia started to surround him. It felt like everyone was his enemy. He realised that he had no friends. No one to turn to. Just nothing…

‘Trapped in Myself,
Body My Holding Cell’ - One, Metallica

Author Notes:

- Well, firstly: Basic outline, it’s about the present day high standards of physical perfection, or at least that’s the inspiration for it.
- On another note, ‘One’ isn’t a name inspired by the song, it just popped into my head to use it and in the end his story had some resemblance to the song due to his isolation from the world.
- As for One’s outward appearance, I think we all get a decent idea who he’s based off of (*cough* Mewtwo *cough*). Though, just for the record, One is classified as a human (or an abomination of a human), not a Pokémon.
- His paintings (as some of the old readers may have guessed), have future meaning, so don’t forget about them.
- The lyrics, as you can guess, were chosen on the basis of A) One’s name and B) Having some relevance to his situation.

 

[Kurai]

Finally I find a macabre science-fanfiction that's more suited for my taste! This is positively delightful, and I must say that your detail is on the nose, in my opinion—you make sure that the reader gets a crisp concept of what things look like, without bogging them down with each fingernail and every hair. I also like the Mewtwo allegory you're forming, not to mention that you've actually managed to support allusions and symbolism with your compostion structure. I love you and I don't even know you. ;__; *happy tear*

If I can judge your taste by your talent, then I'm sure you'd like The Kuraitenshi, as per the proceeding signature—yay for dark sci-fi experimentation. I won't, however, suggest RoseIII, as I've prior been inclined to do, since I really dislike the thought that I'm trying to force people to read a 122-chapter fiction. T__T; If you ever feel the urge to read the longest Pokéfic in existance, then by all means, go right ahead. But The Kuraitenshi contains enough of RoseIII that you can get the basic idea without the bogged-down feeling you get from the sheer content of its predecessor.

Long post short » Story good. Me likey. You have great skills. Read The Kuraitenshi. :X

 

[Whisper in the Wind]

Finally I find a macabre science-fanfiction that's more suited for my taste! This is positively delightful, and I must say that your detail is on the nose, in my opinion—you make sure that the reader gets a crisp concept of what things look like, without bogging them down with each fingernail and every hair. I also like the Mewtwo allegory you're forming, not to mention that you've actually managed to support allusions and symbolism with your compostion structure. I love you and I don't even know you. ;__; *happy tear*

Definately the winner of the award for coolest comment half the words I didn't understand, but it sounded good

Although I'd normally not appreicate fic-advertising in my thread I'm pretty glad you did, I begun reading The Winged and got hooked into it rather quickly.

(man, looking over my post it really makes me look like I have a 7.5 IQ; About time things started to get accurate)

I love you and I don't even know you. ;__;

Happens a lot [/sarcasm ]

 

[Whisper in the Wind]

Rating - R
Violence: Mild
Gore: Mild
Sexuality: None
Profanity: None
Other: None

Chapter II - The Price of Freedom

The golden noon sun sat highly in the centre of the Kanto sky. The bustling metropolis known as Celadon City was at its busiest hour. Pokémon and their Trainers littered the streets, their kind always standing out amongst the business men and street folk.

It fascinated One how creatures of such power would obey humans in such a manner. It was a confusing relationship that a Pokémon Trainer had with their Pokémon. They carried small orbs, designed to imprison a Pokémon until they needed them. A sport was designed around forcing these powerful creatures to harm each other while their Trainers watched, ordering their Pokémon to proceed with malicious acts to their fellow kind. The most puzzling part of it all was the Pokémon’s reason of doing so. It would have made much more sense for them to fight back. They could dominate the world with ease if they wanted to, but for some reason they didn’t.

One left his comfortable and secluded post, hidden behind a gargoyle that sat atop the roof of a Celadon mansion. With a small leap he put himself into an alleyway and wandered onto the street, making sure not to draw too much attention. Fortunately for him, his cloak obscured the fact that he was wearing a mask, hanging just enough over his head to make it impossible for anyone looking down to notice how he hid his face. That combined with the fact that he was half the size of the average human was enough to allow him to wander through the streets unnoticed, as long as he didn’t go against the crowds.

“Nidoran! Come back,” a boy cried from across the street. One’s attention was drawn. He turned to see what the commotion was about. A small rabbit-lizard hybrid jolted across the empty road, bearing turquoise skin that was covered with leopard-like dots. The tiny Pokémon continued to run, and though her reasons were unknown, One felt inclined to help her. As she crossed his path he quickly scooped her from the ground and disappeared into the thick crowd.

****

It took a little bit of ducking and dodging but One successfully navigated his way through the crowded streets to a quiet space, tucked away behind Celadon Library. He removed the frightened creature from beneath his cloak and gently placed her on the grass below.

“Hello,” One said in a friendly tone, testing out the new vocal pitches he had learned when viewing human conversations. It was this tone that he considered the best to use in the situation.

The Nidoran replied in a terrified tone, her entire body shaking when staring into the eyes that One’s mask covered. Nidoran’s reply would’ve sounded as though it were spoken in her own dialect had it not been for a gift that One was born with. Since some of his DNA was constructed from Pokémon, he naturally carried certain Pokémon traits, one of which being able to understand and speak any Pokémon’s language.

“Why were you running from your trainer?” One asked in the language of the Nido specie.

“Who are you?” she replied in a quiver.

“I am One,” he stated, making sure his tone held no intimidation. “What is your name?”

“Nidoran. My trainer didn‘t nickname me.”

“Well Nidoran, why were you running from you’re trainer?” he repeated.

“He…” the Nidoran started, still quivering. She was intimidated by the size of One. Although he was only the size of a toddler, to a Nidoran it appeared to be a lot. One lowered his height, laying chest first on the ground so that his mask was at equal level with Nidoran’s face.

“Go on,” One insisted.

“He wanted me to fight Erika and the Gym Trainers,” Nidoran stated. “I don’t want to face them. I’m still young, I don’t wanna get hurt.”

“Why do you let your Trainer use you for fighting purposes?”

“When I was first caught, my Trainer approached my family, requesting to use me for his team.” She paused to recite the past events. “They told me to listen to him, explaining how Pokémon Trainers turned Pokémon from weak creatures that ran on instinct to powerful beasts whose instinct would soon be what their Trainer taught them. I’ve never argued with my father before, and I didn’t disagree with him and done as he told me. Already, my Trainer expects me to fight experienced Pokémon, and I won’t know what to do.”

“So, Pokémon fight for their Trainer because it makes them stronger and causes their defensive instincts to increase in effectiveness?” One said, asking for clarification. The concept of Pokémon Training started to make much more sense. He was starting to see what Pokémon had to gain from obeying humans. They were the brawn and the humans were the brains.

“Yes. That’s why Pokémon fight…I think.”

“But do you want to fight?” One asked, knowing that was the thing that mattered.

“No,” Nidoran stated clearly in a defiant voice, “I don’t wanna! But I have to…”

One nodded and put his mangled right hand forward, allowing the Nidoran to clamber forward onto it. Holding her gently on the palm of his hand he made his way towards the nearest forest. Dropping to one knee, he released the Nidoran from his grip. “You’re free now,” One stated, “enjoy your freedom.”

One felt a tie with Pokémon compared to humans. Much like himself in the past, Pokémon were kept captive under the control of humans, having to do what they were told. It now felt like a crusade, to free imprisoned Pokémon from their trainers. Keeping out of public view he made his way towards the Celadon mansion, using the nearby trees to make his way onto the roof. He crawled in a lizard-like manner towards the gargoyle as he gathered his machete.

****

One hid along the support beams beneath the Celadon Gym ceiling. A small glass dome shined glare across the grassy battlefield below. A Pokémon battle was due to take place, and One took it upon himself to free them from the brutal sport. The announcer introduced the two trainers alongside the rules as the surrounding audience cheered.

“Trainers, release Pokémon!” the announcer ordered. Erika, the gym leader, released a Vileplume while the challenger released an Arcanine. This was One’s opportune moment. He dropped down from the ceiling with Ninja-like agility and threw his machete in boomerang fashion in Erika’s direction. Before she even knew what was happening she felt the metal object jam stiffly into her shoulder. She shuddered slightly before collapsing to the floor, the force of her fall causing the machete the snap out of place. A puddle of her blood begun to form, squirting from her neck artery.

Screams begun to erupt and the crowd started piling out of the arena desperately. One turned to the other Trainer, scooping a rock from the floor and leaping in his direction. Barely an inch away from clobbering a hole into the challenger’s skull, One was overcome with a burning. The distraction caused him to fall, landing awkwardly and folding up like a pretzel.

‘Why did he do that?’ One thought to himself. ‘I’m trying to free him, why is he hurting me?’

“Stay away from my Trainer!” Arcanine barked, breathing in to prepare for a second blast of flames.

“I’m trying to free you!” One shouted desperately in Arcanine’s language.

“Free me from what?!”

“From him!” One shouted, pointing his three-fingered hand towards the Arcanine’s Trainer.

“I am free!”

One winced at the thought before being realising that he was on fire. Aggressively, he tore his cloak from his body and revealed his disgusting figure. Even Arcanine flinched at the sight, feeling the need to vomit at the site of the genetically modified mutant. Shame and embarrassment enveloped One’s soul as he galloped away from the arena, springing off of his feet and through the fleeing crowds. Their horrified eyes caused something inside of his body to burn as he felt overwhelmed by an urge to let his instincts take over.

In mid-air he turned his mangled hands violently towards the crowd and in a flash they were all on the ground, their corpses charred and their faces mangled. ‘How did I do that?’ he asked in his mind. He didn’t have the time to question the situation any further, without causing more destruction. Police sirens echoed in the distance as One charged away.

****

He’d been running for hours, not stopping to look behind him for one second. The sirens slowly died down and the flashing of red and blue faded in the distance. He had covered miles of forest, his bloodied feet having trampled through mud, grass, rock and several streams. His lavender body burning at within the sun’s rays.

‘How could this happen?’ he asked himself, removing his emotionless mask. ‘I only wanted to free them. They were tools, but they have emotions. They shouldn’t be tools! No!”

One stopped in his tracks, dropping side first next to a tall oak. He lifted his feet from the muddy ground and sat them on their heels, using his right hand to brush them clean.

‘Maybe…humans, just, aren’t…’ He stopped his thoughts once more, feeling horrible conflict within. ‘No! Humans are evil. Look what they made me into.’ Tears started to leak from his indigo eyes. His lumpy hands cushioned his face as tears formed a puddle between his legs.

‘I’m not supposed to be,’ he started to himself. “I’m not supposed to be!” he cried out into the forest, causing flocks of birds to flutter out of their nests and far away from One. He got to his hurting feet and wandered over to a nearby puddle. He stared at his hideous reflection with disgust. The moment went as something flashed into his mind.

A battle was happening, a teenaged male was riding on an emerald green serpent with a knife in his hand. He was stabbing at the beasts neck repeatedly, gripping to the creature’s ears desperately as he drove the object into the serpent’s skull. But with a speedy twist, he lost his grip and fell through the clouds.

One flashed back to reality, his head jolting to the side with surprise. “I must find him!” he stated aloud. He wiped his tears and his sadness had gone with a wave of determination. He picked up his mask from the ground and placed it in front of face as he headed back for the city…

‘Stapled shut - Inside an outside world,
And I'm sealed in tight - Bizarre but right at home,
I'm claustrophobic - Closing in,
And I'm catastrophic - Not again.’ - Before I Forget, Slipknot

Author’s Notes:

- Well, this is the final Prelude piece about One.
- The title is a bit iffy, a bit more of a fic name than a chap name, but it was somewhat fitting.
- What I wanted to explain this Chapter was ‘Why a Pokémon fought its Trainer’ as well as seeing the point of views from both the willing and unwilling. I also wanted to use this to ‘confuse’ One and show his inexperience with emotions and opinions and how they differ as well as his willingness to jump into things headfirst.
- Before I forget is a song about feeling alone, caring about others (in One’s case it was Pokémon) more than yourself and as a result, suffering a lot (taken from the synopsis at www.metabolic666.com). It somewhat sums up this Chapter since I was looking for lyrics with a ‘Put myself before others a paid for it’ feel to it.

 

[Whisper in the Wind]

Well, Chapter III... I'll tell ya now, I think it sux more than Pamela Anderson who her Honeymoon. The only reason I'm posting this is to finish off this crap. I'm definately re-re-wrting (hell expect it under a different name as well, "The Power Within", ick!). The only thing I like about this chap is the Author's Notes, 'cause they were just me typing from the heart TOO much for my own good .

Anyway, prepare your Barf Bags:

Rating - PG
Violence: None
Gore: None
Sexuality: None
Profanity: Only in the Author’s Notes
Other: None

Chapter III - The One for One

Hundreds of years had passed, and slowly, what sanity One once had had dissolved into obsession. His entire youth had been spent searching. Searching for the person who continually appeared in his thoughts. There was some bond that had to tie them together, he insisted that there had to be, he forced himself to believe that somehow this boy would save him from the isolated hell that he had to suffer each day.

Eventually, after a hundred more years had passed he soon realised that he had searched the entire world, beginning to find himself retracing his original steps. However, there was another. In his recurring dream, there were two that stood out, and the other he knew existed. The Emerald Serpent…

****

One looked at his bare body in the reflection of the mirror. Nothing had changed… He had grown stronger and larger, but his body remained horribly mangled. His legs had became kangaroo-like in form, shaping into a two balled toed at the ends of the long feet. A long purple tail extended from between his legs, wedging them apart to make his waist almost twice as wide as his torso. He had grown to be at least eight feet in height, a size nearly matched by his tail. Due to this, he stood out in the crowds like a giant, something not aided by the way he had been forced to dress.

He looked out on the South Hoenn Ocean from his cabin window, muttering to himself, “Soon I will meet you Emerald Serpent…”

“Sir! Your wake up call!” someone called from the outside while knocking on the wooden door.

It felt redundant to say so, but One replied: “Thank you,” and begun dressing himself. He opened his suitcase and picked out a large hooded robe, dyed in a deep purple similar to his eyes. His old Halloween mask which had been with him since his escape still fitted nicely over his face, obscuring all his hideous features.

When he came to the deck he could see Pacifidlog Town in the distance. His legs turned to jelly while a cold discomfort boiled in his stomach. He knew how close the Emerald Serpent was and his nerves were starting to take over him. One thing that he had realised about his visions was they never included him, he could see nothing of his own future, so for all he knew the Emerald Serpent would turn on him. All he could do was make educated guesses as to what would happen to him based on what he saw in his mind.

****

“Pacifidlog Town!” the Captain of the cruise announced. “We’ll be making a day’s stop here, you may return to the ship at anytime but if you are not on board tomorrow at noon we will leave without you.”

One didn’t care whether they went without him or not. He knew that he would be with the Emerald Serpent for a long time. He walked off the cruise calmly, ignoring the stares he received, and begun making his way through the water village. It truly was a remarkable place, built entirely of wood. The design of the place allowed it to float on the oceans surface, held in place by nearby rocks. The dock was attached to a dormant volcano whose crater stuck just above the surface, although it wasn’t clearly visible due to how it was covered. This was one of many, laying a small distance from the gathering of giant ocean volcanoes nicknamed ‘The Molten Fountains’, and shrouded somewhere amongst them sat the mythical home of the creature One sought. Somewhere amongst ‘The Molten Fountains’ was the Sky Pillar, and somewhere within the legendary tower was the Emerald Serpent, Rayquaza…

****

A collection of dots were imprinted on a nearby rock, catching One’s eye as he approached what appeared to be the only opening into the valley of ocean volcanoes. One slid his right hand from his robe and motioned his hands over the dots, identifying them as a Braille message. The moment his hand connected with the rock he could feel nothing but an empty and desperate coldness. Flashes of an eyeless person appeared in his mind as his body shook with the impact of his vision.

He pulled away in shock, his lavender eyes full of fear as they stared at his hand. Cautiously, he hovered his hand over the message once more, knowing he had to absorb all its information before he searched for Rayquaza.

‘To the One who seeks the Emerald Beast, travel at your own risk. No Pokémon will carry you and no machine will function. This sacred place should be left undisturbed and it is you who shall pay if you do not heed these warnings.’

There was no vision this time, it had passed and One deduced that there was nothing more for him to see. The message itself only fed his curiosity, and rather than causing him to become weary, he became determined.

He hid his hand beneath his robe once more and continued into the valley.

****

On each side, the giant white volcanoes would start to become adjacent to one another. Forming a pathway that was broken up by spots of ocean at the points where the volcanoes connected. One counted that the outer circle of the Molten Fountains had to be at least seven volcanoes thick. It was most definitely a tiring and dangerous journey and it would not have surprised him if many curious travellers were discouraged to continue simply due to the difficulties of reaching the creature‘s home.

He reached a dead end to his journey at the seventh volcano. There was no visible way of getting passed it without going over it, and One knew that would take far too long and would be far too dangerous, even if there was only a couple of thousand feet to climb. It was times like these that he wished he had a Pokémon to fly him, although he knew that the Pokémon would most likely refuse to take him due to the sacredness of the location.

One let out a frustrated sigh and dropped to the ground, holding his face in his mutated palms. “Where are you?” he sobbed. “I keep seeing you and yet I can’t find you,” he stated in a frustrated cry.

‘Don’t give up,’ a voice whispered eerily.

One jolted defensively, rising to his feet swiftly. “Who said that?!” he demanded. His eyes scanned the surrounding area, there was nothing visible that could’ve spoken, yet the voice spoke again.

‘Don’t give up! It’s your duty to find Rayquaza.’

One soon realised that it was all his head and relaxed his body. “I’m right!” he stated aloud. “The way to the Sky Pillar is around here somewhere.”

He frantically searched for some way to pass the volcano. ‘I can’t go around it, I can’t go over it, I obviously can’t go through it and I can’t go un…’ He stopped his thoughts where they were as he realised that maybe he could go under it. His attention focused back to the path. About twenty metres away from One lay a large pool of water, sitting at a seemingly random location. It wasn’t visibly connected to the Ocean so the only possibility was the pool was made of rainwater, and for rainwater to gather at such a location constituted a hole. “Now why would there be a hole here?” he muttered to himself rhetorically, smirking beneath his mask.

He approached the pool without caution and undressed from his robe and mask. He took in one large breath and proceeded to bury his head into the water. Another vision occurred, this time clearer and longer than any he had endured before…

He could see the Emerald Serpent travelling burrowing through a tunnel of water, zooming through the water in drill-like fashion. His savage face broke the surface of the pool, followed by his giant snake-like body. As he floated above the Molten Fountains he came to a halt and twirl his body majestically, for seemingly the same reason as a human would stretch their body. Blue liquid salivated from his mouth, singeing the volcano slopes as droplets of it fell through the air.

One dragged his head from the water as the vision ended. He shook his head violently, sending the water from his smooth head onto the damp rock around him. He took in a second breath and dug his head back into the water, eying what he could. Although he couldn’t judge how far the tunnel went, he felt that he had only to choice. He could either risk drowning or he could turn back, and he refused to allow himself to partake in the latter. He took one final breath and dove into the water…

****

A seemingly endless five minute journey left One inside some form of stone cavern. It was pure black. Not a single speck of light had made it into the location. He proceeded cautiously, his arms spread out just enough to touch both sides of a wall that appeared to belong to a tunnel. As hours passed, his gut wrenched as he felt a change in the weight of the air, and he knew that he had reached the end of the tunnel…

Heavy breathing hissed within the confides of a sweaty stone room. One couldn’t even see his hands in the darkness of this unknown place; all he could rely on were his senses. His hands felt a moist stone wall, engraved with many markings and yet somehow, not unperfected by a single piece of moss or grit. The foul scent of freshly burn ash travelled through his nostrils while the intimidating sound of a snoring beast filled his ears.

One came to a stand still as he heard the snoring stop. His back seemed to grow sweatier. Moist beads could be felt hanging off of the back of his neck. A cold shudder tingled through One’s spine as his mind accepted the situation.

“Emerald Dragon,” One addressed clearly in the most respectful manner he could conjure. “I apologise for invading your territory, but I had to,” One explained, trying to hide the desperation in his voice.

One could hear hissing behind him and a sound that resembled a knife scraping on pavement. Although curiosity insisted he do so, One resisted his urge to turn around. If he did, Rayquaza may have seen it as an insult that a life form as low as One were to see the magnificent creature.

A rush of air seemed to brush passed One’s face, soon followed by the smell of ash that was hissed in his direction. One could only assume that Rayquaza was face to face with him. Nervously, One put his hand out in front of him, blinding waving it in the dark in an attempt to touch Rayquaza’s face.

One’s obese fingers felt rough scales in front of him, his gentle caresses removing some of the flakier pieces of skin. The hissing seemed to calm, becoming gentle breathes. A small smile begun to rise on his face. Deep within his mutated body he felt an inner warmth, almost as though he had tamed the violent beast to become as docile as a puppy. But the warmth didn’t last…

His mind begun questioning his emotions. His heart told him that this creature was the one true companion that he had longed for all his life, while his mind reminded him of what this creature had done, and what this creature would do…

“For now, I shall stay…” One muttered to the creature, questioning whether he had made a mistake or not. Slowly, he dropped himself to the floor, knowing that all he would hear for a long time would be the heavy heaving of the creature that he would share the cave with. “We are like what society call soul-mates,” One stated out loud, unsure of whether he was trying to convince himself or whether he believed that. “It’s just you and I against the world…”

In the abyss of darkness he heard a hiss, and knowing that he had made his choice, closed his eyes and begun to rest in his new home.

“Just you and I…”

‘Don't look back there is no promised land’ - Faultline, Yngwie Malmsteen

Author’s Notes:

Does anyone know what the fuck is going on? If so, please tell me, even I’m lost FFS. I’m just not up this dark, macabre stuff, it isn’t my field of expertise. Oh yeah, lemme make this official in very big bold letters:

“MICKY ONIMUSHA CAN’T COME UP WITH TITLES TO SAVE HIS LIFE!!”

Either way, I was just sitting here with Emy on my mind and rather than forcing myself to throw up to relieve that stress gathering in my stomach I figured I’d finish off this piece of crap I call chapter three. I seriously lost all direction on this one, it was just “make it up as you go along”. Spanning two fucking months, hell, you can probably notice the style of the writing fucked up along the way (and Jesus-fucking-Christ, could my ending have been any more fucked up?).

Anyway, this is the last stop to a lot of new readers. Anyone I hooked because this is dark and macabre, this is probably where the train stops. My fic was never intended to be a purely dark fic, hell it’s fucking comic relief for a lot of the time. I’m so vain I even made myself a main character, how sad is that? (Rhetorical question, the answer is ‘very’). It’s even Trainer/journey-like (yeah, start puking now) and too vain to comprehend.

- Unfortunately, I know the majority of you will read the next chapter, and I can’t stop that, so I apologise in advance.

Now where was I? Of course, my thought on this chapter… DOES IT EVEN LOOK LIKE I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS CHAPTER?! I mean it was like all the way through my brain screaming “Dude! This is a filler ffs. Know how many people are like gonna throw up when you’ve finished this, quit now! You have block, accept it!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I’ll be the first to admit it, this was a filler. I just needed to end One’s story so I could move on with actually rewriting the original. So yeah, people who actually liked the original, time to rejoice, because the next part is where the original’s rewrite begins. No more of this prelude crap which I so totally should’ve not written ‘cause I’ve defiantly given the wrong impression of the fic to new readers.

Oh yeah, if you didn’t guess, I’m a bit frustrated at the time of writing this. I’m gonna leave it in though since it’s from the heart and oddly enough, it feels like the best thing I’ve written all day. I’ve probably covered everything a review could say now and looking back on this, I look a lil schizo.

Anyway, I’m done being a moody bitch since I’m sitting here singing along to Jeff Hardy’s NWA theme which is surprisingly catchy, and damn it kinda just tended but it’s ont othe Undertaker’s Hybrid Mix which I totally adore, so “whoo!”

The end bit which sounded like overly fucking corny was the 1st thing to come to mind so like… yeah, I just put it there ‘cause I… just did…

Oh yeah, and the lyrics are…yeah, god only knows why I picked them…The song just came on and I looked up the lyrics and thought “Hey! That’s a fucking good line, let’s use it…”

Oh yeah:

‘To the One who seeks the Emerald Beast, travel at your own risk. No Pokémon will carry you and no machine will function. This sacred place should be left undisturbed and it is you who shall pay if you do not heed these warnings.’

Pathetic on SOOOOOOOOOO many levels.

Anywayz! Oni, out! My head is fucking killing me!

Oh yeah, and a round of applause for my wonderful proof-reader who made this readable.