"A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are."
Trent could remember his old man telling him that just before he went on his pokemon journey, and he had fully accepted that with each pokemon he captured and each friend he gained, but as betrayal soon swept over the lands and, soon enough, into the minds of his own pokemon, Trent soon found that the term 'friends' was useless, fake and hurtful. His best friends, hell, even his starter pokemon, deserted him.
And now he was here, ready to begin anew, but this time for revenge.
"The pokemon are barbarians now," the commander... or whatever tells Trent as he nods firmly. His eyes sweep over the command center that is meant to be the start of a new life. Brainwashing pokemon... "You will be equiped with a weapon of your choice, a utility belt like mine and some tamer balls. Are you ready for this, brat?"
Trent turns on the large, muscular man. "If I wasn't ready, would I be here?" he growled.
The man just laughs and pushed Trent forward. "Get the brat ready!" he barked to a new person. Trent turned his attention to the new man that was already holding a bag full of supplies.
"Here we have your basics," he explained, handing over a dagger to Trent.
Trent ran almost expert fingers over the dagger, zoning out on the man explaining directions. Anger was beginning to cloud his mind as the silver steel glinted with a deadly light. His Charizard had claws of steel, and Trent had always loved that about his pokemon. Well, at least before his own starter betrayed him with those claws.
"And now you may choose your own personal weapon," the man said, leading Trent to a table. "We have tranquilizers, smoke bombs, stunners..."
"I'll take the crow bar," Trent interrupted, moving over to the crow bar that was actually resting against the machine it had been used on to move earlier.
"Well." The man gave an embarrassed cough. "That wasn't one of our choices."
"Doesn't matter," Trent said stiffly, swinging it about, grinning as the man shrunk back. "I think I'll need this to release some tension."
The man frowned. "We are here to try and reobtain or connection with pokemon, not strengthen their anger."
Trent snorted. "Hey, they attack me, I attack them," he replied with an easy grin, grabbing his belongings and ignoring the man's call and heading for the route he had been commanded to go to.
And to also break his pokemon's necks if he ever saw a single one of them again...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Route 29, a once beautiful place with full, tall trees, green bushes and high grass, but now the trees were withered and burned, the bushes gone and the grass an ashy remainder of what was once beautiful. It was all disgusting, but that wasn't the only thing that was leeching onto this route. A snarling, pink, worthless mutt was blocking Trent's path.
A Snubbull, Trent's mind supplied. The so called cute pokemon used to be owned by girls, but Trent could recall that its evolution was a vicious thing, and right now he wanted vicious.
"I would be careful who I showed my fangs to, girl," Trent crooned mockingly.
The Snubbull snarled loudly.
"Ah, boy then," Trent said with a grin, swinging his crow bar. He watched the thing salivate in anger, those beady eyes narrowing before it lunged. "Stupid mutt," Trent laughed, swinging away. "What, did you not think I didn't expect that?" He took another swing, but Snubbull latched its mouth onto the bar. Again Trent recalled that the thing could lock its jaws.
"Bull," it growled, saliva dripping onto the bar.
Trent just tsked and dragged the thing over to a rock. With a heave and gasp, Trent swung both the crow bar and Snubbull down onto the rock. To his delight, the normal type squealed in pain and shock. "Wasn't expecting a human to be so brutal?" Trent mocked.
"Bul snub," Snubbull growled, releasing the crow bar, only to get struck in the stomach. The pup got to all fours and panted, teeth gleaming and snarling lowly.
"Yes, I think you'll do fine," Trent commented, pulling out the tamer ball. "You see, when I find my pokemon, I want them to experience the same pain they gave me when they abandoned me."
Snubbull tilted his head, confused.
With a dark laugh, Trent lifted his shirt, revealing several claw marks. If he removed his whole shirt, his back and arms would be covered as well from the claws and fangs of his pokemon. "You see, betrayal doesn't just leave mental scars, it leaves physical ones."
Snubbull snarled viciously, not caring. His mind had already been taken over with the darkness and betrayal like all the other pokemon.
Trent chuckled. "Yes, I know you don't care, but then again I don't care about you either." With a dark grin, he tossed the tamer ball on the surprised pokemon and watched it get transferred into red energy where the pokeball began to shake back and forth...