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December 7th, 2008 (3:19 AM).
She dashed toward me, still her arms ready to clutch. My owners distorted into abysmal, influenced creatures and shattered into nothing but drained shells of impassive fiends all but five months ago.
A streak of black pursuits swiftly through where the light once shone. Rings and bands of illuminated yellow illustrious exposed the brisk movements of the imprecise figure. A pair of crimson eyes followed the black smudge obverse.
The nightmares that followed sickened me. Every detail, skewered into precise scenes. Flashing so rapidly, it befuddled me. “
Give up, resistance is futile, there is no more hope. Your trainer is now mine! Hahahah!”
Darting briskly towards the blinded human. It’s weapon-impeded, it’s defenses-temporarily lowered. The target was in range, the faultless window of opportunity. Vehemence, rage and vengeance convoyed and amplified the attack. Brought by memories of repulsion, regret and failure-he had fallen into the ensnarement…
By a fraction of a second, he realized. The thought shot in him like an
bullet. But it was all too belated. His attack was impossible to prevent. Blinded by retribution and wrath, it was all too late…
The augmented attack propelled him toward the unintended target rapidly; its acceleration would equal to devastating consequences.
No matter what Brunette, don’t give up on me. Don’t lose hope. No matter what, I will always be your trainer, deep inside, you know that right?”
Strewn within diffused wreckage, the clash tossed the two bodies aside. The black streak seemed to take negligible trouncing of the impulse while the other was thrust brutally, an expanse to which was impeded by a tree.
The glistening helmet flies off, enlightening the cause of hindered relentless bombardment toward the two-legged creature.
It lay there, unmoving. The cadaver of the marauder, lifeless as it appears in the crimson eyes of the black streak-Brunette. Terror-filled and extremely desperate, he stood completely still-gazing into the motionless body that was once filled with existence. Recognizing the distinctiveness of his adversary, his black pupils shrunk; his four black extremities wobbled and shake; his sweat forming around him like a puddle; his heart-torn into a million imprecise portions. Brunette’s mouth gradually opened-attempting to release the
in a form of thunderous and regretful resonance.
The despair ricochets loudly, shaking the leaves, carried by the icy wind…
Fumbling clumsily toward the deceased shell of which Brunette remorse’s, hastily turning with his tear-filled eyes, glancing for the anticipated and substantial signs of life-breathing. None so far, fear of the gaffe of his actions. Sudden panic surpasses the black Pokémon. Frantic to locate at least, the minutest precursor of life.
Besieged to raise the body out of the uneven clearing and into supple comfort brought by the foliage. A feeling of dampness below the Pokémon’s appendages. Folded in the dark red, soaked in the rough earth-blood.
Further dread and alarm; his eyes widening in sheer horror. Stooped and hesitant whether it was the sarcastic reality or it was the horrendously, wicked dominion of nightmares. Either seemed alike. The matching scene of unrelenting disgust; the identical outrageous positions and conditions which intervene flawlessly; the same pitiless adversary, common between the two beings.
The similar human to which his life had been given so much meaning to…
Placing the intolerably motionless body upon the sinuous leaves fallen from the great trees above, attempting-even at the risk of certain death-to
the body, to bring back life-even at the cause of returning it to its last state-a mindless and emotionless hunter...
Searching for the bruised or breached
of life-an unintentional wound trickling and seeping the vital fluid which fills the veins and proliferates existence. Hurriedly seeking for it to be sealed, impeding
not to steal the remaining life at which, was in devastatingly diminutive amounts.
Removing the heavy chain-mail off of the human, eradicating the weight at which encumber the crucial respiration needed. The precious air entering the lungs, replenishing the essential fluid’s supply. Extracting the noxious air, replaced by the exact opposite-fresh, pure and critical.
Death apparently purged by the precautious and life-saving procedures taken, still no progress, no indication of breathing, no sign of movement, no precursor of the function of the imperative organs, nothing.
The crimson eyes observe in absolute terror as its attempted efforts are immeasurably disregarded. Fear even more abundant than before, so tense it loosens the grip of the black streak’s sanity…
Watching the tight seal around the human’s left lung, leach and ooze by the minute; the valued air ignored-poisoning the fluid at which was still rapidly leaking. Not even the slightest movement, not even the flee of confined air nor clamor….
Abandoning all thoughts of his own welfare, the achievement of the mission and the hope of seeing his beloved trainer
All of it…
Wounded so deep, healing would be unattainable-for both trainer and Pokemon. Even the act of temporal forces would be worthless. Blurred by and passed by.
Nothing more to lose, life was now pointless to him, he had nothing left…
hopeless, nothing in store; the future doesn’t matter anymore…
Joined Oct 2008
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