Time moves slowly whilst rotting in a cell as Delta did. The minutes moved like hours, the hours like days, the days like years. If anything good came out of this experience of withdraw from the world it was that Delta had a lot of time to think And think he did, for that was all that could be done. Mainly he thought of what he had done in the past, what actions had led up to this.
Was it wrong, a thought that crossed Delta's mind countless times.
Was it wrong, he thought, to do as I had been told? Is it a sin to do as your elders teach you to do? Is it truely my fault, and mine alone, that I have met this fate. If it is then what, what was I to do? Who am I to renounce what I was taught? Who am I?
Well, he thought at length, if this fate was of my own make, then at least I have had the honor to forge the chain that is my destiny. At least I was no puppet, at least I was able to do as I pleased. So then the question still stands: Was it wrong? By some standards yes, but such is the world, mere perception. Everything: Time, morals, scale, right and wrong, all perspective. So to the question of is it wrong. There exists no answer, he concluded after hours past.
Yet still, even after this debate against himself, the day was still strong, and his naturally long-lived stamina was nowhere near exaushted. What was time to him anyways at this point? Just numbers on a machine. It mattered no longer weather it was day or night, it mattered not which sphere in the sky was visible. He slept when he was tired, and woke when his eyes opened. So there was only one thing to do, further submerge himself in thought.
His constant train of thought was, from time to time, interrupted by visitors. Mainly to mock him. They did everything from basic verbal insults, to childish mockery. Delta got his two seconds of amusement from their trivial attempts to break his spirit before his death. Further amusement came from their expressions as he showed no signs of being hurt from their insults, even chuckling at times. He found it comical how the trainers could get so angry as their attempts to break him failed.
Finally, after what seemed like millenia had passed, it was one day until the execution. It felt akward, frightful, to know your last day on this earth was tommorow. Delta could only imagine how he would feel on the day he knew that, undobtingly, he would die. He always imagined he would go out the "honrable" way in Karoncowian culture, to be slain in battle. He imagined he would fall to a great and powerful adversary, he imagined that he would die in the greatest fight of his life, as Karocowian legends have described of others.
What a great fool I must look. Delta thought. To be executed by a single needle, in a prison, for all to see. It must be amogst the least honorable ways to perish.
However, for the day before his death, it passed like any average day. All seemed normal. But such is the world, too big and important to care for the petty needs of its inhabitents. So the day slowly dragged on. Eventually the day ended, Delta taking the sleep second to last, the last sleep from which he could awake.
As always, the sun rose on the day following. The natural world was in complete order. However the political world was not. It is funny, how the order of the world and its inhabitents are so divided. Throughout the day preparations were made. It only took a few hours to set up everything in the courtyard of the small prison, whose population will, on this day, drop to zero.
Come the afternoon Delta was dragged into a room in the prison, from this day onwards dubbed the "execution room". The room was divided legthwise on half. On this dividing line was a three foot high wall, the rest of the line was plexiglass. On one side there was a dividing line of similar make, dividing it in half down the middle. This line had a door in it. On one side of the door was a single bench, it was standing upright, on it were four straps for the arms and legs of the one being sent to death. On the other side there were two similar benches, only smaller. These were custom-built: One for a Growlithe and one for a Wooper.
Waiting on the other side of the plexiglass for Delta was a large crowd, it must have been nearly eighty percent of the town's population. In a few minutes Delta was strapped to the his bench, as were his Pokemon, their Pokeballs being placed on a small table near the benches. Delta had a feeling of helplessness, there was nothing he could do. But then, a beacon of hope. The gaurds, never having performed an execution, didn't know how to properly strap someone to the bench. Delta could feel a pocket of air near his right wrist. He kept it completly stiff, pretending that they had properly strapped him in.
A man came out from a door behind Delta, he bore a needle bigger than any Delta had seen before. It was filled with a viscos, blue fluid. This man was followed by the mayor, who was holding a microphone in order to permiate the soundproof walls between him and the audience. The mayor repeated almost exactly the same speech as he did a week prior. Ending with, yet again, offering Delta last words.
"I believe my last words were spoken one week ago." Delta said.
"Very well then." the mayor said.
The executioner approached Delta, who assumed he was no more than a regular gaurd given this task for the day.
"You know for the first person to be executed here in over a century I would hope you would have something better to say." the gaurd said, his voice shook, as if he was the one on the bench.
"That is quite a twisted thing to say." Delta said back.
"But not nearly as much as what ha come out of your mouth. But I will silence it once and for all." the gaurd said, his agitation growing.
Delta smirked "So you're under the impression that you are just going to stick me with that needle and it will all be over?" he chuckled.
Fear gripped the executioner's eyes. Half with anger, half with fear he said "You're in no position to be so smug. You're the one who is going to die. That's it! I will have no more!" he quickly went at Delta, needle in hand.
"Obviously you have no idea who you're talking to. So I'll tell you, you're talking to someone who isn't going to die today." Delta said, his smirk becoming a grin.
The people watching gasped. In one swift motion, Delta's right arm was free of the straps. And his fist was clenched where the executioner's neck used to be. The executioner was now on the ground, unconcious. Gaurds approached his Pokemon with needles similar to the ones the unconcious executioner once held. Delta held up two fingers.
For a moment there was nothing. Then fire erupted from Growlithe's. As part of training for a situation such as this, Delta had to train his Pokemon to use moves associated with hand signs. However, the Pokemon never quite understood the signs so verbal command was always used when possible.
In an instant, Delta completly freed himself from his bonds and rushed into the room with his Pokemon. He unbound them and took out the earplugs and other such things they put on his Pokemon. Seeing how he was outnumbered, and countless Pokemon were being released to combat against him, Delta took an evasive strategy.
"Growlithe, Ember! Wooper, Water Gun!" Delta called.
The two did as commanded and a wall of steam was conjured, engulfing the room and making Delta and his Pokemon near invisible. In the confusion Delta recalled his Pokemon, located the door, and ran.
Minutes later Delta burst through the front doors of the prison. He was clothed in the thick, protectve, brown coat of the gaurds, under that a black shirt, blue pants, and ordinary brown shoes. At least he could appear to be a gaurd chasing after Delta as opposed to Delta himself from affar. However the thing that nearly gave him away was his backpack, which Delta had retrieved only because it was in plain sight once he had escaped.
He ran towards the edge of the forest, nearly out of breath. He stopped for only a short moment to catch his breath. There was no time to waste, the town was probably setting up a flank for him as of now. Yet near the corner of his eye, he noticed a single human figure. The figure was shadowed and impossible to distinguish. It could have been anyone. He began to move away, pretending not to notice the person. He wanted to see what this person did. If they ran to tell the people where he was, he could run, if they ran after him, he could run.
