- 4
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- In the closet, eating up all the spare cookies
- Seen Apr 10, 2009
//Rated R for strong violence and gore, and what ever else might pop up along the story line.
U-uh, hello, welcome to my fanfiction. Not the first one I've ever written, but the first one that hasn't been a collab work between me and another author who haunts and recommended me to this site. So hopefully I don't epic fail too hard. Please read and review, I definately need all the help I can get [grammar is death for me], constructive critisim definatly appreciated. Thank you. //
"Dewgong, let's get things going with a little Ice Beam!"
"Charizard, counter with your Flamethrower!"
The two pokémon faced off, eyes glowing in determination that matched the same embers burning within their trainer's eyes. The humans stood in safety several feet away from the lines and walls of the arena that separated them from the danger of the pokémon, but they were with their partners in spirit. It was all a question of which team could last the longest, whose bonds could remain firm while the other's snapped with tension and fear. Will in the game would be everything.
"Gong!" The Dewgong's hollow cry rang out against the walls of the stadium as it reacted to its trainer's words quicker than the orange dragon. Flippers supported it out of the water, holding what could be considered its torso upright while its maw stretched open. It took only a second's delay before dazzling white streaks that shimmered with blue energy shot out from the Dewgong's mouth. The attack was beautiful but it was not to be unmatched for even with that fraction of the moment, the Charizard steeled itself for the attack. The roar echoed throughout the arena, shaking the structure and flames poured forth from the other's open jaws to collide with the seal's beams of ice. Not a moment too soon it would seem as vapor suddenly clouded the two, produced from the two elements violently canceling one another.
The cheers and shouts from the stands were thunderous, almost as impressive as the Charizard's roar. Different screams came from all sorts of creatures, both human and pokémon alike. Chants of encouragement were yelled to both sides as well as the boos and hisses in hopes that the other would fail in their goal to win. But the trainers remained silent, both concentrating on the cloud of steam that was slowly evaporating and the grunts and snarls that sounded from within it. The pokémon obviously took no notice the cover and had continued their battling in a closer quarters, but it was impossible to tell from the ever shifting shadows just who was winning and who was going to require medical assistance by the time this match was finished.
Finally the smoke cleared, both trainers holding their breath. In the center of the rink stood Dewgong over the fallen body of the Charizard, one flipper placed triumphantly over the other's neck and a broad grin splashed upon the pokémon's face at the knowledge of its victory. Its white coat was dyed red in a few spots, some from gashes that the Charizard's claws had caused but mainly it flowed about the Dewgong's face, stemming from that gleaming sharp horn proudly presented on the top of its head. Despite its grin, it couldn't help but pant in exhaustion. There had been several moments were the Dewgong had assumed its own death. But the Charizard lay beneath on the ground, breath coming out even shallower as its blood was the liquid that slicked the stadiums floor, several holes punctured around its chest and belly. But no one in the audience cared. In fact, it excited them further. Calls for more continued as they chanted, 'Finish it!', the bloodthirsty creatures that they were. But there was to be no unnecessary deaths today as the two trainers hopped the waist high walls and crossed to the center of the circle that marked the area of battle, shaking hands with good sportsmanship and recalled their pokémon into their respective red and white spheres.
Disappointed groans sounded but it was followed by begrudging and restrained, polite applause for the two. Then the stands began to empty, most shuffling off to return their betting slips and either leave for home disappointed or with pockets slightly fuller. But even after the last Pikachu had left with their trainer, the two battlers remained.
"Hey, nice job you did out there, huh?" The female trainer congratulated with a small smirk, hand placed loosely upon her hip. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a loose braid; the same color that represented her choice of pokémon and her personality in general it would seem if that mischievous grin was anything to go by.
The person opposite of her seemed to be just that, her direct opposite. His hand reached up and made a lazy pass to rearrange slightly ruffled hair the color of the ice he preferred to work with. "Oh, huh?" He murmured lazily, peering at her with one cerulean eye. "I suppose." He answered finally. All energy for the male trainer really seemed to burn out after battles, especially ones that he excelled in. Most would love to celebrate their victory over maybe a cold glass of Miltank milk or something stronger for the older crowd but this trainer looked like he was ready to settle for a nice afternoon nap. The girl giggled at this thought and her emerald eyes gleamed. This one was far too cute to let him flee her grasp.
"Say…" She began with a sly smile. "How about we go and get you a victory drink, big boy?" She suggested with a small wink, stepping in closer to her opponent.
"What?" He blinked sleepily, rubbing his eye slightly, completely oblivious to her ploy. She giggled again and advanced, slowly, creeping to her prey. He took noticed and backed a step or two away. "I… I really d-don't think that's such a good idea you know. I think I have some other business to attend to." He tried to turn and escape, but the girl was having none of that.
"Nonsense!" She insisted with a chuckle, snatching up his arm to prevent all hopes of making a getaway. "You have to come, it's a tradition!" She settled any and all arguments with that statement and that was final. Though she failed to explain exactly whose tradition it was, but the boy would get no chance in pointing out the missed detail as the girl's captive was slowly being dragged away, whimpering as hot pink nails dug into his bare arm. The light, sleeveless white shirt he wore offered no protection. And thus the two trainers were the last ones out from the stadium, door shutting behind them in preparation of the next match.
The bar that had been chosen by the girl could be generously described as dingy. Paint was peeling from the walls and the door barely clung to its hinges, screeching every time one dared to touch the paneling. Several windows were missing from their panels and those that remained hung only by the grace of super glue that oozed from the edges. But this actually proved to be a positive thing. The air within the crowded hutch was so stuffy, the male trainer believed that he might suffocate in here or at least pass out from possible heat stroke. The boisterous atmosphere made the boy feel completely out of his element as he nervously sat at the bar, swiveling upon the stool slightly as to provide his feet with something to do. Arms, hands, and shoulders seemed to press in on him from every angle as drunkards swaggered about with false confidence, accompanied by their pokémon who seemed to have also taken a few sips from their masters' cups. The only familiarity the boy had the luxury of having was the Dewgong that stood at his side, taking up enough room that most tried to avoid poking him on that side.
While the Dewgong did not enjoy the heat of this cramped quarters one bit, nor did she appreciate the humans that stumbled on her tail, she kept her complaints to nothing more than a soft grunt and snort. She had resigned herself to keeping her trainer safe from this predatory human that sat beside him, no matter the female form she took. Coal black eyes narrowed slightly and the Dewgong lowered her head to lap at the water bowl that had been placed at the top of the bar level to her head, watching the female trainer carefully. The female trainer took absolutely no notice as she whirled about in her seat and yanked the bar to stop herself. "Barkeep!" She shouted happily over the amount of noise, pounding the wooden surface to catch the worker's attention. "Two glasses of milk over here, and make 'em something strong! We have ourselves a champ right here!" She ordered, pointing out her companion who shrank back at the praise. How he wanted so badly to disappear from this place right now and go somewhere safe.
The barkeep, a burly woman in her mid-forties who most likely owned the fine establishment, grinned. "See you caught yourself a winner there, Ms. Sasha." She laughed as she turned and began to pour the milk. It wasn't too unusual to see the girl here with another man trapped in her grasp, but business was business and Sasha, as the female trainer was called, kept the barkeep well entertained. Sasha beamed at the compliment and held tighter to her victim.
"Oh yes, he's quite the sweetheart, aren't you… uh… what was your name again?" She suddenly questioned, realizing that he hadn't spoken any more than three words since they had arrived here.
"Louis." He mumbled tiredly into his arm, by this time having given up all hope of escape. Now, all he could wish for was that Sasha would get bored of harassing him eventually and move onto someone else. His eyes rolled about, looking around at their surroundings to try and drag his attention to a realm where some semblance of normality existed.
He knew he couldn't escape mainly because, just as his Dewgong was watching Sasha closely, he in turn was being watched by the gigantic Charizard that stood by her side. Reptilian eyes glared down at him, refusing to look away for even a moment while the fire lizard lapped at his own water. It was remarkable how even after the match, where the Charizard had been made to seem so weak by Dewgong, he had bounced back on his feet with just a few seconds in the Pokémon Center they had stopped by just minutes before coming here. The only sign that a battle had even taken place at all was a bandage slapped over the bridge of the Charizard's snout, and that was just because Sasha felt that it might comfort her pokémon rather than utterly humiliate him. Needless to say, he was not in a fine mood and it was worsened by the fact he could tell that Louis had no particular interest in his trainer which would mean he would have to listen to her sob and whine all the way to the next town before she found another slice of meat to chase after.
Louis shifted uneasily. He had no desire to be transformed to burnt toast and so he listened with faked interest while Sasha rambled on about her currently unsuccessful career, nodding at all the right places and giving a small hum where it was appropriate. He had to struggle to stay awake while his Dewgong had to struggle to stop from laughing at the scene before her, tail hitting against the floor with a loud thud. This woman really couldn't take much in the ways of a hint. Louis was eternally grateful for the milk that was suddenly placed in front of the two and took a swig to try and rouse himself to be a little more awake.
He could taste the slight bitter sweet flavor of the milk that had obviously been spiked by the barkeep, but right now he couldn't care less. In fact, it might have been viewed as a somewhat positive thing. Perhaps he wouldn't even care within the span of five minutes. The girl simply knocked hers back without a care in the world, slamming the glass down upon the bar top already ready for a refill. She sighed pleasantly, wiping the white mustache from her upper lip with the sleeve of her shirt. "So like I was saying, he just never gives up. I mean what's a poor girl like me going to do with that idiot following me around, trying to challenge me at every single turn even though it's soooo obvious that I'm a lot better than him. Like, different league better. And so I said to him…" Louis couldn't help but let a small groan escape as he shut his eyes to try and shut her out. This time Sasha took notice to his complaint. "Huh? Something wrong?" She asked with wide, almost mockingly innocent eyes. Louis scowled, the drink suddenly fueling courage and he swirled about in his chair to tell he just what he thought of her right now. But he was never to get the opportunity to.
A sudden explosion shook the bar, bottles smashing upon the walls with the force of the shock and screams suddenly rising up in chorus. Louis suddenly sat straight up and turned to look quickly over his shoulder to see what was going on. Likewise, Sasha stood from her stool, feet firmly planted and set into a defensive position like the natural born fighter she was. "What the …" She muttered, trying to see what the commotion was over the heads and faces of panicked customers, scrambling to get away from whatever was happening. But what was going on? It was such a swirl of color and emotion that neither could make sense of the scene, but both knew the coppery scent that suddenly filled the air. Sasha's eyes widened in the same fear that seemed to mimic the crowds around them. This was not good in the slightest. "Mars!" She ordered, turning to her Charizard expectantly, to force him to deal with the crisis that was going on about them. But her Charizard had no intention of listening, he was dealing with his own problems.
Claws clamped down around his head as he trembled, tail lashing in pain. A low growl escaped from the back of his throat, not terrorized as the screams that were about him, but in utter and excruciating suffering. Pupils dilated, his tongue lolled from his mouth and his chest moved erratically as he struggled to even breathe. Oh Arceus, if there was ever time he wished to die, now would be it. "…Mars?" Sasha questioned a little more softly, sliding over as determination turned to worry for her partner and she placed a hand on his scaly belly. That did it. Wings furled open in a sign of clear aggression and intimidation for an enemy and the Charizard turned his glare upon the girl who had dared intrude upon his space. He whipped about, his tail crashing into his trainer directly. And for all her spunk and grit, not even Sasha could stand against the brute force of the mighty beast she had once called friend. Louis watched helplessly as her body soared across the bar and collided with one of the wooden walls with a crack. She crumpled to the ground and lay there lifelessly. He personally hadn't a clue whether she was dead or simply unconscious from the blow but he had to watch out for himself, especially as the Charizard turned its gleaming eyes towards him.
Those jaws opened and a ferocious roar was let loose, much like the one that rattled the stadium. But this was different; this was not in the spirit of friendly competition. No, this roar was feral. And worse, it was a call. The call was answered by the voices of the pokémon that had packed the place with their trainers all crying out for the death and blood of their masters. The sound drowned out the screams of the humans and for one brief moment, Louis wasn't sure if he was still alive. His vision turned black, from fear or some other source he was unsure, but he fell forward and collapsed, passed out and oblivious to the chaos that erupted about him.
Minutes, hours, perhaps the entire day had gone by. There was no one who could tell. Louis just knew, that when he woke up, it was dark, and he was in intense pain. He glanced back to his leg and immediately wished he hadn't. It lay crushed underneath the rubble of what used to be the bar's roof, most likely a supporting beam. It was heavy but not unmovable if given the right leverage. He groaned softly, trying to ignore the pain that spread like fire through his leg as he twisted about. There was definitely broken bones, if not a completely shattered one. He grabbed a piece of twisted pipe metal that rested conveniently by his side and turned about as best he could possibly without injuring himself further. He then lodged the piped down between the planks and pressed as hard as he could against the metal, putting his entire weight on it, grunting softly with the effort. One, two, three moments crept by with no visible results. Louis was sweating in the intense heat that seemed to surround him and this was starting to drain his energy. He was just about to let go before the wood gave a creak and a moan of protest before freeing its grip upon his leg. He yanked the limb out, ignoring the flare of pain that accompanied the movement and then let the timber fall with a crash since he was in safety.
But he couldn't say that he was completely safe where he lay, not yet. He glanced about at his surroundings, the bar or best put, what remained of it. The place had been utterly demolished and it had only been by sheer luck that Louis had only a leg crushed from debris. That wasn't even half of the damage. The heat that licked the back of the boy's neck was heated embers upon the burnt surface of some woods, some having been smothered, others still blazing brightly to add light to the scene. He could feel liquid on his hands, his entire body, but he chalked it down to being liquor that had been spilt during whatever had taken place here this night as he could feel the chunks of glass gently dig into his palms. From what he could see, other than the lively crackle of flames, there was no other being here other than himself.
"Hello?" He tried to call out, but it was a weak sound, voice hoarse and it spurred a coughing fit that lasted a good five minutes. Apparently when one was unconscious, they couldn't control how much smoke they inhaled. Louis wheezed softly, catching his breath before crawling forward, dragging his leg along as he moved over whatever obstacles were in his path, hoping, praying that there was someone left alive in this mess, if only so that he could die with someone rather than isolated and confused. He perked his head as he heard the sound of scuffling over the ashes. Was someone still alive? Louis face brightened and his hands dragged him forward faster as hope soared in his heart and strength suddenly surged into his tired muscles. There had to be someone, just had to be. He turned the corner and smiled in relief at the sight. There was Sasha, green eyes staring back up at him in surprise while her red hair was matted about her face. She must have survived being thrown against the wall and managed to avoid what had happened to everyone else. He started forward but then halted as he noticed something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
Those eyes did not stare at him with surprise. They did not stare at him at all but rather into some unseen realm, already glazed over with the sickly color of death. Blood pooled about her mouth, still opened in a half strangled cry and arms reached out helplessly for help that would never arrive on time. And the scuffling noise? A Jolteon raised its head at the sound of movement across the floor and bared its glistening fangs covered in Sasha's life blood, electricity charging in the air while its fur stood up on end. The pokémon had been eating what scraps were left of the girl's lower half. Louis would have shouted, cried, screamed if he had the voice for it but all he could do was try to slide back, suddenly the floor seeming much slicker than it had a second ago. "Jolt!" The pokémon barked, taking a menacing step forward towards the boy with spines raised and ready to seek a new, fresher meal. Louis closed his eyes and waited for his fate to meet him, but the electricity that should have coursed through his veins never did come. Rather, the Jolteon looked frightened, lowering its whimpering muzzle in submission to some unseen god and then darting away into the darkness of night.
Louis looked slightly relieved that he was still breathing, but also a slight bit puzzled. What about him has scared the Jolteon off into the night, away from a meal it had already earned from other scavengers. But then a slight pressure and dull throb alerted him to something else wrong as it traveled straight through his back and out from his chest. He looked down, blue eyes staring wordlessly at the familiar white horn that now protruded from his chest, drenched in red. His red. "Oh." Was all he could say, as suddenly the pain intensified the more he looked at the wound and then the horn was drawn back, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Louis rolled over to look at the face of his assailant, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he should very well be dead right now, or in a few seconds at the most. He told that voice to be quiet. Instead, he focused upon the glaring black coal eyes that had looked upon him with affection, tenderness, perhaps even love at one point or another during their long friendship, from the time he had raised her from an injured seal into the beautiful and deadly Dewgong who stood over him to this day. She glared down at her, thoughtless, mindless of the human who she had once fought for, would have laid her life down for. And now, she had his. He smiled up at her as best as he could and the horn that had brought him so many victories, began his short career and fame now gored into his stomach, and ended it just as suddenly.
Humans were masters no longer.
U-uh, hello, welcome to my fanfiction. Not the first one I've ever written, but the first one that hasn't been a collab work between me and another author who haunts and recommended me to this site. So hopefully I don't epic fail too hard. Please read and review, I definately need all the help I can get [grammar is death for me], constructive critisim definatly appreciated. Thank you. //
Prologue ~ Masters, No Longer
"Dewgong, let's get things going with a little Ice Beam!"
"Charizard, counter with your Flamethrower!"
The two pokémon faced off, eyes glowing in determination that matched the same embers burning within their trainer's eyes. The humans stood in safety several feet away from the lines and walls of the arena that separated them from the danger of the pokémon, but they were with their partners in spirit. It was all a question of which team could last the longest, whose bonds could remain firm while the other's snapped with tension and fear. Will in the game would be everything.
"Gong!" The Dewgong's hollow cry rang out against the walls of the stadium as it reacted to its trainer's words quicker than the orange dragon. Flippers supported it out of the water, holding what could be considered its torso upright while its maw stretched open. It took only a second's delay before dazzling white streaks that shimmered with blue energy shot out from the Dewgong's mouth. The attack was beautiful but it was not to be unmatched for even with that fraction of the moment, the Charizard steeled itself for the attack. The roar echoed throughout the arena, shaking the structure and flames poured forth from the other's open jaws to collide with the seal's beams of ice. Not a moment too soon it would seem as vapor suddenly clouded the two, produced from the two elements violently canceling one another.
The cheers and shouts from the stands were thunderous, almost as impressive as the Charizard's roar. Different screams came from all sorts of creatures, both human and pokémon alike. Chants of encouragement were yelled to both sides as well as the boos and hisses in hopes that the other would fail in their goal to win. But the trainers remained silent, both concentrating on the cloud of steam that was slowly evaporating and the grunts and snarls that sounded from within it. The pokémon obviously took no notice the cover and had continued their battling in a closer quarters, but it was impossible to tell from the ever shifting shadows just who was winning and who was going to require medical assistance by the time this match was finished.
Finally the smoke cleared, both trainers holding their breath. In the center of the rink stood Dewgong over the fallen body of the Charizard, one flipper placed triumphantly over the other's neck and a broad grin splashed upon the pokémon's face at the knowledge of its victory. Its white coat was dyed red in a few spots, some from gashes that the Charizard's claws had caused but mainly it flowed about the Dewgong's face, stemming from that gleaming sharp horn proudly presented on the top of its head. Despite its grin, it couldn't help but pant in exhaustion. There had been several moments were the Dewgong had assumed its own death. But the Charizard lay beneath on the ground, breath coming out even shallower as its blood was the liquid that slicked the stadiums floor, several holes punctured around its chest and belly. But no one in the audience cared. In fact, it excited them further. Calls for more continued as they chanted, 'Finish it!', the bloodthirsty creatures that they were. But there was to be no unnecessary deaths today as the two trainers hopped the waist high walls and crossed to the center of the circle that marked the area of battle, shaking hands with good sportsmanship and recalled their pokémon into their respective red and white spheres.
Disappointed groans sounded but it was followed by begrudging and restrained, polite applause for the two. Then the stands began to empty, most shuffling off to return their betting slips and either leave for home disappointed or with pockets slightly fuller. But even after the last Pikachu had left with their trainer, the two battlers remained.
"Hey, nice job you did out there, huh?" The female trainer congratulated with a small smirk, hand placed loosely upon her hip. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a loose braid; the same color that represented her choice of pokémon and her personality in general it would seem if that mischievous grin was anything to go by.
The person opposite of her seemed to be just that, her direct opposite. His hand reached up and made a lazy pass to rearrange slightly ruffled hair the color of the ice he preferred to work with. "Oh, huh?" He murmured lazily, peering at her with one cerulean eye. "I suppose." He answered finally. All energy for the male trainer really seemed to burn out after battles, especially ones that he excelled in. Most would love to celebrate their victory over maybe a cold glass of Miltank milk or something stronger for the older crowd but this trainer looked like he was ready to settle for a nice afternoon nap. The girl giggled at this thought and her emerald eyes gleamed. This one was far too cute to let him flee her grasp.
"Say…" She began with a sly smile. "How about we go and get you a victory drink, big boy?" She suggested with a small wink, stepping in closer to her opponent.
"What?" He blinked sleepily, rubbing his eye slightly, completely oblivious to her ploy. She giggled again and advanced, slowly, creeping to her prey. He took noticed and backed a step or two away. "I… I really d-don't think that's such a good idea you know. I think I have some other business to attend to." He tried to turn and escape, but the girl was having none of that.
"Nonsense!" She insisted with a chuckle, snatching up his arm to prevent all hopes of making a getaway. "You have to come, it's a tradition!" She settled any and all arguments with that statement and that was final. Though she failed to explain exactly whose tradition it was, but the boy would get no chance in pointing out the missed detail as the girl's captive was slowly being dragged away, whimpering as hot pink nails dug into his bare arm. The light, sleeveless white shirt he wore offered no protection. And thus the two trainers were the last ones out from the stadium, door shutting behind them in preparation of the next match.
-:-
The bar that had been chosen by the girl could be generously described as dingy. Paint was peeling from the walls and the door barely clung to its hinges, screeching every time one dared to touch the paneling. Several windows were missing from their panels and those that remained hung only by the grace of super glue that oozed from the edges. But this actually proved to be a positive thing. The air within the crowded hutch was so stuffy, the male trainer believed that he might suffocate in here or at least pass out from possible heat stroke. The boisterous atmosphere made the boy feel completely out of his element as he nervously sat at the bar, swiveling upon the stool slightly as to provide his feet with something to do. Arms, hands, and shoulders seemed to press in on him from every angle as drunkards swaggered about with false confidence, accompanied by their pokémon who seemed to have also taken a few sips from their masters' cups. The only familiarity the boy had the luxury of having was the Dewgong that stood at his side, taking up enough room that most tried to avoid poking him on that side.
While the Dewgong did not enjoy the heat of this cramped quarters one bit, nor did she appreciate the humans that stumbled on her tail, she kept her complaints to nothing more than a soft grunt and snort. She had resigned herself to keeping her trainer safe from this predatory human that sat beside him, no matter the female form she took. Coal black eyes narrowed slightly and the Dewgong lowered her head to lap at the water bowl that had been placed at the top of the bar level to her head, watching the female trainer carefully. The female trainer took absolutely no notice as she whirled about in her seat and yanked the bar to stop herself. "Barkeep!" She shouted happily over the amount of noise, pounding the wooden surface to catch the worker's attention. "Two glasses of milk over here, and make 'em something strong! We have ourselves a champ right here!" She ordered, pointing out her companion who shrank back at the praise. How he wanted so badly to disappear from this place right now and go somewhere safe.
The barkeep, a burly woman in her mid-forties who most likely owned the fine establishment, grinned. "See you caught yourself a winner there, Ms. Sasha." She laughed as she turned and began to pour the milk. It wasn't too unusual to see the girl here with another man trapped in her grasp, but business was business and Sasha, as the female trainer was called, kept the barkeep well entertained. Sasha beamed at the compliment and held tighter to her victim.
"Oh yes, he's quite the sweetheart, aren't you… uh… what was your name again?" She suddenly questioned, realizing that he hadn't spoken any more than three words since they had arrived here.
"Louis." He mumbled tiredly into his arm, by this time having given up all hope of escape. Now, all he could wish for was that Sasha would get bored of harassing him eventually and move onto someone else. His eyes rolled about, looking around at their surroundings to try and drag his attention to a realm where some semblance of normality existed.
He knew he couldn't escape mainly because, just as his Dewgong was watching Sasha closely, he in turn was being watched by the gigantic Charizard that stood by her side. Reptilian eyes glared down at him, refusing to look away for even a moment while the fire lizard lapped at his own water. It was remarkable how even after the match, where the Charizard had been made to seem so weak by Dewgong, he had bounced back on his feet with just a few seconds in the Pokémon Center they had stopped by just minutes before coming here. The only sign that a battle had even taken place at all was a bandage slapped over the bridge of the Charizard's snout, and that was just because Sasha felt that it might comfort her pokémon rather than utterly humiliate him. Needless to say, he was not in a fine mood and it was worsened by the fact he could tell that Louis had no particular interest in his trainer which would mean he would have to listen to her sob and whine all the way to the next town before she found another slice of meat to chase after.
Louis shifted uneasily. He had no desire to be transformed to burnt toast and so he listened with faked interest while Sasha rambled on about her currently unsuccessful career, nodding at all the right places and giving a small hum where it was appropriate. He had to struggle to stay awake while his Dewgong had to struggle to stop from laughing at the scene before her, tail hitting against the floor with a loud thud. This woman really couldn't take much in the ways of a hint. Louis was eternally grateful for the milk that was suddenly placed in front of the two and took a swig to try and rouse himself to be a little more awake.
He could taste the slight bitter sweet flavor of the milk that had obviously been spiked by the barkeep, but right now he couldn't care less. In fact, it might have been viewed as a somewhat positive thing. Perhaps he wouldn't even care within the span of five minutes. The girl simply knocked hers back without a care in the world, slamming the glass down upon the bar top already ready for a refill. She sighed pleasantly, wiping the white mustache from her upper lip with the sleeve of her shirt. "So like I was saying, he just never gives up. I mean what's a poor girl like me going to do with that idiot following me around, trying to challenge me at every single turn even though it's soooo obvious that I'm a lot better than him. Like, different league better. And so I said to him…" Louis couldn't help but let a small groan escape as he shut his eyes to try and shut her out. This time Sasha took notice to his complaint. "Huh? Something wrong?" She asked with wide, almost mockingly innocent eyes. Louis scowled, the drink suddenly fueling courage and he swirled about in his chair to tell he just what he thought of her right now. But he was never to get the opportunity to.
A sudden explosion shook the bar, bottles smashing upon the walls with the force of the shock and screams suddenly rising up in chorus. Louis suddenly sat straight up and turned to look quickly over his shoulder to see what was going on. Likewise, Sasha stood from her stool, feet firmly planted and set into a defensive position like the natural born fighter she was. "What the …" She muttered, trying to see what the commotion was over the heads and faces of panicked customers, scrambling to get away from whatever was happening. But what was going on? It was such a swirl of color and emotion that neither could make sense of the scene, but both knew the coppery scent that suddenly filled the air. Sasha's eyes widened in the same fear that seemed to mimic the crowds around them. This was not good in the slightest. "Mars!" She ordered, turning to her Charizard expectantly, to force him to deal with the crisis that was going on about them. But her Charizard had no intention of listening, he was dealing with his own problems.
Claws clamped down around his head as he trembled, tail lashing in pain. A low growl escaped from the back of his throat, not terrorized as the screams that were about him, but in utter and excruciating suffering. Pupils dilated, his tongue lolled from his mouth and his chest moved erratically as he struggled to even breathe. Oh Arceus, if there was ever time he wished to die, now would be it. "…Mars?" Sasha questioned a little more softly, sliding over as determination turned to worry for her partner and she placed a hand on his scaly belly. That did it. Wings furled open in a sign of clear aggression and intimidation for an enemy and the Charizard turned his glare upon the girl who had dared intrude upon his space. He whipped about, his tail crashing into his trainer directly. And for all her spunk and grit, not even Sasha could stand against the brute force of the mighty beast she had once called friend. Louis watched helplessly as her body soared across the bar and collided with one of the wooden walls with a crack. She crumpled to the ground and lay there lifelessly. He personally hadn't a clue whether she was dead or simply unconscious from the blow but he had to watch out for himself, especially as the Charizard turned its gleaming eyes towards him.
Those jaws opened and a ferocious roar was let loose, much like the one that rattled the stadium. But this was different; this was not in the spirit of friendly competition. No, this roar was feral. And worse, it was a call. The call was answered by the voices of the pokémon that had packed the place with their trainers all crying out for the death and blood of their masters. The sound drowned out the screams of the humans and for one brief moment, Louis wasn't sure if he was still alive. His vision turned black, from fear or some other source he was unsure, but he fell forward and collapsed, passed out and oblivious to the chaos that erupted about him.
{+} {+} {+}
Minutes, hours, perhaps the entire day had gone by. There was no one who could tell. Louis just knew, that when he woke up, it was dark, and he was in intense pain. He glanced back to his leg and immediately wished he hadn't. It lay crushed underneath the rubble of what used to be the bar's roof, most likely a supporting beam. It was heavy but not unmovable if given the right leverage. He groaned softly, trying to ignore the pain that spread like fire through his leg as he twisted about. There was definitely broken bones, if not a completely shattered one. He grabbed a piece of twisted pipe metal that rested conveniently by his side and turned about as best he could possibly without injuring himself further. He then lodged the piped down between the planks and pressed as hard as he could against the metal, putting his entire weight on it, grunting softly with the effort. One, two, three moments crept by with no visible results. Louis was sweating in the intense heat that seemed to surround him and this was starting to drain his energy. He was just about to let go before the wood gave a creak and a moan of protest before freeing its grip upon his leg. He yanked the limb out, ignoring the flare of pain that accompanied the movement and then let the timber fall with a crash since he was in safety.
But he couldn't say that he was completely safe where he lay, not yet. He glanced about at his surroundings, the bar or best put, what remained of it. The place had been utterly demolished and it had only been by sheer luck that Louis had only a leg crushed from debris. That wasn't even half of the damage. The heat that licked the back of the boy's neck was heated embers upon the burnt surface of some woods, some having been smothered, others still blazing brightly to add light to the scene. He could feel liquid on his hands, his entire body, but he chalked it down to being liquor that had been spilt during whatever had taken place here this night as he could feel the chunks of glass gently dig into his palms. From what he could see, other than the lively crackle of flames, there was no other being here other than himself.
"Hello?" He tried to call out, but it was a weak sound, voice hoarse and it spurred a coughing fit that lasted a good five minutes. Apparently when one was unconscious, they couldn't control how much smoke they inhaled. Louis wheezed softly, catching his breath before crawling forward, dragging his leg along as he moved over whatever obstacles were in his path, hoping, praying that there was someone left alive in this mess, if only so that he could die with someone rather than isolated and confused. He perked his head as he heard the sound of scuffling over the ashes. Was someone still alive? Louis face brightened and his hands dragged him forward faster as hope soared in his heart and strength suddenly surged into his tired muscles. There had to be someone, just had to be. He turned the corner and smiled in relief at the sight. There was Sasha, green eyes staring back up at him in surprise while her red hair was matted about her face. She must have survived being thrown against the wall and managed to avoid what had happened to everyone else. He started forward but then halted as he noticed something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
Those eyes did not stare at him with surprise. They did not stare at him at all but rather into some unseen realm, already glazed over with the sickly color of death. Blood pooled about her mouth, still opened in a half strangled cry and arms reached out helplessly for help that would never arrive on time. And the scuffling noise? A Jolteon raised its head at the sound of movement across the floor and bared its glistening fangs covered in Sasha's life blood, electricity charging in the air while its fur stood up on end. The pokémon had been eating what scraps were left of the girl's lower half. Louis would have shouted, cried, screamed if he had the voice for it but all he could do was try to slide back, suddenly the floor seeming much slicker than it had a second ago. "Jolt!" The pokémon barked, taking a menacing step forward towards the boy with spines raised and ready to seek a new, fresher meal. Louis closed his eyes and waited for his fate to meet him, but the electricity that should have coursed through his veins never did come. Rather, the Jolteon looked frightened, lowering its whimpering muzzle in submission to some unseen god and then darting away into the darkness of night.
Louis looked slightly relieved that he was still breathing, but also a slight bit puzzled. What about him has scared the Jolteon off into the night, away from a meal it had already earned from other scavengers. But then a slight pressure and dull throb alerted him to something else wrong as it traveled straight through his back and out from his chest. He looked down, blue eyes staring wordlessly at the familiar white horn that now protruded from his chest, drenched in red. His red. "Oh." Was all he could say, as suddenly the pain intensified the more he looked at the wound and then the horn was drawn back, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Louis rolled over to look at the face of his assailant, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he should very well be dead right now, or in a few seconds at the most. He told that voice to be quiet. Instead, he focused upon the glaring black coal eyes that had looked upon him with affection, tenderness, perhaps even love at one point or another during their long friendship, from the time he had raised her from an injured seal into the beautiful and deadly Dewgong who stood over him to this day. She glared down at her, thoughtless, mindless of the human who she had once fought for, would have laid her life down for. And now, she had his. He smiled up at her as best as he could and the horn that had brought him so many victories, began his short career and fame now gored into his stomach, and ended it just as suddenly.
Humans were masters no longer.
/End Prologue/