- 11
- Posts
- 17
- Years
- Seen Jul 6, 2008
Oneshot. PG13. A captured animal forced to fight meaningless battles for the sole purpose of entertaining humans. This is pokemon seen through the eyes of one of the pocket monsters themselves.
All was black. There was nothing. There was no one. He floated in oblivion, void of all thought and emotion. A desolate abyss from which there was no escape. In this world without purpose or direction, he waited, as if in a dream, for something which he could not comprehend. It nagged at his unconscious mind, and he dreaded this unknown thing. Dreaded it and knew in some deep corner of his mind that it would happen soon. He could not escape. He could not think of escape. His body and mind were trapped. Panic flowed into him, and he realized he could think again. He felt his body materialize around him, and suddenly he was standing on cold metal. His heart beat once, twice, and his pulse began once more, circulating blood to his newly reformed body. Breathe entered his throat in painful gasps, the air tearing at his windpipe as he relearned how to breath.
Then memories rushed back to him, and he struggled to make sense of the thoughts playing before his minds eye. His parents, the alphas of their small pack of houndooms, him, playing in the forest one night, pouncing onto his brother and nipping at his ear playfully, then.... three loud sudden sounds like thunder, and his mom and dad fell dead before his eyes. He had been devastated, ignored the warnings from his pack members as they fled, whimpering and howling by their unmoving corpses, not noticing the strange, two legged creatures slowly approaching him from behind. Odd, black and green colored spheres in hand. That had been four years ago.
He opened his eyes. The room was dark, but a different sort of dark then there had been inside his barren prison. In this darkness things had shape and meaning. Here he could reason, here he could act. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in the sights before him. He was in a large, rectangular metal pit. Dried blood painted a large section of the otherwise spotless floor. Fresh blood was streaked carelessly across the old, adorning the ground with shades of maroon, rose, and scarlet. The putrid smell of death wafted up from all around him.
And there they were. His hated enemy. Humans flocked at the edges of the pit, screaming and clapping their filthy hands. The smells of sweat and adrenaline wafted off of them in nauseating amounts, and he crinkled his nose in disgust. He turned. There, as he had known he would be, stood his captor, high atop a platform, out of reach, holding in his hand the device with which he enslaved him. His eyes narrowed and a snarl issued from his throat at the sight of him. Then his attention was averted. Across from him, under similar conditions, was his opponent.
Bloodshot eyes were set in the middle of orange, leathery skin. Jagged teeth lined its huge, gaping mouth. Deadly, curved claws rested on the ends of thick, muscular arms. A single flame blazed atop its long, winding tail. It flapped its immense wings, and though he was across the room, his fur rippled in the breeze they created.
It began.
It launched itself into the air, and before he could react, opened its mouth and shot scorching flames towards him. And yet he did not try to move. He allowed the flames to flow over him, and he heard the charizard roar in triumph. He felt the flames dance around him, playing at his fur and flowing into him, energizing him, giving him a feeling of invincibility.
The flames stopped, and he looked skyward. The charizard, by now quite sure of its victory, looked upon him with something like shock. Then its face twisted into a snarl. It roared in fury and dived towards him.
This time he was ready. Blue, scalding flames shot from his mouth. The charizard tried to pull out of its dive, but too late. The flames hit it on its right wing, and it went down, landing on the cold, metal floor a few feet from where he stood with a loud thud. It raised up its head, and pure rage showed on its face.
It lunged. He dodged its snapping jaws by mere inches and, turning, shot another wave of blue fire at its monstrous head. It hit, and the beast was left staggering and disoriented. He wasted no time, but ripped into its exposed neck with his teeth. Blood gushed out in torrents, adding yet another hue to the stained floor, on which the blood of countless other fallen warriors had been painted, by the teeth and claws of their enemy's.
The charizard reeled and fell to the ground, its heartbeat slowing, its eyes closing. Then, at the moment before death, a beam of red light shot out from across the room, engulfing the charizard and withdrawing it back.
Another beam of light shot out, and this time it expanded, leaving in its wake yet another beast for him to conquer. This creature was similar to the last, but instead of thick, orange hide, it was covered from head to toe in magnificent, gleaming blue scales. Its underbelly was plated in living metal, and it sported huge blood-red wings atop its back. It roared a challenge to him, and he howled his answer.
Slamming its huge tail against the ground it took flight and, like the last beast he had faced, opened its mouth to shoot fiery breathe down upon him. He waited as it began to wash over him, and cried out in antoganizing pain. These flames did not dance over him as he was accustomed, but seared and singed his fur. This was his first encounter with dragon's breath.
He yelped and tried to jump free of the blaze, and landed hard on his side. The salamence flew over him and blew the horrid flames towards him, and he willed himself to stand and try to escape. It seemed to smile as it flew after him, its roar became a menacing laugh. He dodged back and forth desperately, as towers of scalding hot flame erupted all over the arena. He moved without a thought of defeating the blue demon the circled above him. His only goal was avoiding the burning hot infernos bursting into being around him.
Then suddenly they stopped. He chanced a look up at the ceiling, and saw a blur of blue scales as he felt himself being knocked off his feet. He landed hard, and heard the salemance land beside him. Then its head was above him, and its horrible jaws were closing around his body. Helplessly he squirmed and snapped at it, but to no avail. It began closing its jaws around him, and as his vision started to blur, and as he felt himself slipping away into a different sort of oblivion, he saw a beam of red light surround him, and then he was nowhere again.
Everything was black. There was nothing. Not the frantic pounding of his heart nor the labored breathing of his lungs. There was no one. He was alone in the dark, neither seeing nor being. Held in suspended animation. Waiting. Waiting for the day when his tormentor would become careless. The day his captor would recall him a moment too late. The day he would feel the sweet release of death. The day he would finally, since he was stolen away from his parents as an unsuspecting houndour, be completely and truly free.
Captured in your innocence,
brought to an unknown land.
Enslaved and made to kill and maim,
you do not understand.
Your endless battles meaningless,
your struggles are in vain,
you're forced to fight a hollow war,
by those you entertain.
Your enemies are just like you,
you do not want to fight.
One option left,
escape by death,
into eternal night.
All was black. There was nothing. There was no one. He floated in oblivion, void of all thought and emotion. A desolate abyss from which there was no escape. In this world without purpose or direction, he waited, as if in a dream, for something which he could not comprehend. It nagged at his unconscious mind, and he dreaded this unknown thing. Dreaded it and knew in some deep corner of his mind that it would happen soon. He could not escape. He could not think of escape. His body and mind were trapped. Panic flowed into him, and he realized he could think again. He felt his body materialize around him, and suddenly he was standing on cold metal. His heart beat once, twice, and his pulse began once more, circulating blood to his newly reformed body. Breathe entered his throat in painful gasps, the air tearing at his windpipe as he relearned how to breath.
Then memories rushed back to him, and he struggled to make sense of the thoughts playing before his minds eye. His parents, the alphas of their small pack of houndooms, him, playing in the forest one night, pouncing onto his brother and nipping at his ear playfully, then.... three loud sudden sounds like thunder, and his mom and dad fell dead before his eyes. He had been devastated, ignored the warnings from his pack members as they fled, whimpering and howling by their unmoving corpses, not noticing the strange, two legged creatures slowly approaching him from behind. Odd, black and green colored spheres in hand. That had been four years ago.
He opened his eyes. The room was dark, but a different sort of dark then there had been inside his barren prison. In this darkness things had shape and meaning. Here he could reason, here he could act. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in the sights before him. He was in a large, rectangular metal pit. Dried blood painted a large section of the otherwise spotless floor. Fresh blood was streaked carelessly across the old, adorning the ground with shades of maroon, rose, and scarlet. The putrid smell of death wafted up from all around him.
And there they were. His hated enemy. Humans flocked at the edges of the pit, screaming and clapping their filthy hands. The smells of sweat and adrenaline wafted off of them in nauseating amounts, and he crinkled his nose in disgust. He turned. There, as he had known he would be, stood his captor, high atop a platform, out of reach, holding in his hand the device with which he enslaved him. His eyes narrowed and a snarl issued from his throat at the sight of him. Then his attention was averted. Across from him, under similar conditions, was his opponent.
Bloodshot eyes were set in the middle of orange, leathery skin. Jagged teeth lined its huge, gaping mouth. Deadly, curved claws rested on the ends of thick, muscular arms. A single flame blazed atop its long, winding tail. It flapped its immense wings, and though he was across the room, his fur rippled in the breeze they created.
It began.
It launched itself into the air, and before he could react, opened its mouth and shot scorching flames towards him. And yet he did not try to move. He allowed the flames to flow over him, and he heard the charizard roar in triumph. He felt the flames dance around him, playing at his fur and flowing into him, energizing him, giving him a feeling of invincibility.
The flames stopped, and he looked skyward. The charizard, by now quite sure of its victory, looked upon him with something like shock. Then its face twisted into a snarl. It roared in fury and dived towards him.
This time he was ready. Blue, scalding flames shot from his mouth. The charizard tried to pull out of its dive, but too late. The flames hit it on its right wing, and it went down, landing on the cold, metal floor a few feet from where he stood with a loud thud. It raised up its head, and pure rage showed on its face.
It lunged. He dodged its snapping jaws by mere inches and, turning, shot another wave of blue fire at its monstrous head. It hit, and the beast was left staggering and disoriented. He wasted no time, but ripped into its exposed neck with his teeth. Blood gushed out in torrents, adding yet another hue to the stained floor, on which the blood of countless other fallen warriors had been painted, by the teeth and claws of their enemy's.
The charizard reeled and fell to the ground, its heartbeat slowing, its eyes closing. Then, at the moment before death, a beam of red light shot out from across the room, engulfing the charizard and withdrawing it back.
Another beam of light shot out, and this time it expanded, leaving in its wake yet another beast for him to conquer. This creature was similar to the last, but instead of thick, orange hide, it was covered from head to toe in magnificent, gleaming blue scales. Its underbelly was plated in living metal, and it sported huge blood-red wings atop its back. It roared a challenge to him, and he howled his answer.
Slamming its huge tail against the ground it took flight and, like the last beast he had faced, opened its mouth to shoot fiery breathe down upon him. He waited as it began to wash over him, and cried out in antoganizing pain. These flames did not dance over him as he was accustomed, but seared and singed his fur. This was his first encounter with dragon's breath.
He yelped and tried to jump free of the blaze, and landed hard on his side. The salamence flew over him and blew the horrid flames towards him, and he willed himself to stand and try to escape. It seemed to smile as it flew after him, its roar became a menacing laugh. He dodged back and forth desperately, as towers of scalding hot flame erupted all over the arena. He moved without a thought of defeating the blue demon the circled above him. His only goal was avoiding the burning hot infernos bursting into being around him.
Then suddenly they stopped. He chanced a look up at the ceiling, and saw a blur of blue scales as he felt himself being knocked off his feet. He landed hard, and heard the salemance land beside him. Then its head was above him, and its horrible jaws were closing around his body. Helplessly he squirmed and snapped at it, but to no avail. It began closing its jaws around him, and as his vision started to blur, and as he felt himself slipping away into a different sort of oblivion, he saw a beam of red light surround him, and then he was nowhere again.
Everything was black. There was nothing. Not the frantic pounding of his heart nor the labored breathing of his lungs. There was no one. He was alone in the dark, neither seeing nor being. Held in suspended animation. Waiting. Waiting for the day when his tormentor would become careless. The day his captor would recall him a moment too late. The day he would feel the sweet release of death. The day he would finally, since he was stolen away from his parents as an unsuspecting houndour, be completely and truly free.
Captured in your innocence,
brought to an unknown land.
Enslaved and made to kill and maim,
you do not understand.
Your endless battles meaningless,
your struggles are in vain,
you're forced to fight a hollow war,
by those you entertain.
Your enemies are just like you,
you do not want to fight.
One option left,
escape by death,
into eternal night.
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