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A Winkle in Reality: Chapter 9.
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 15:00:14 +0000 UTCIf chapter 6 was the chapter I was the most exited about, then this is the chapter I'm most nervous about.
WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence and gore.
This is the roughly the darkest the story is gonna get and it won't be all the time or even most of the time. This is a big moment for Peri as a character and will influence the story going forward. And this dichotomy was what really interested me about the Pokémon world, how moving it to a different, arguably more realistic, type of media will change things, while still trying to keep the general vibe the same. I'll try my best to balance all the various themes throughout this story.
This is going to be a wish fufilment story to a degree, with bullshit Pokémon and the usual SI shenanigans. I just wanna counterbalance all that good shit with some actual storytelling and narrative development.
If it's too much, please tell me and I'll try to tone it down in the future or if I should add a warning before the section.
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The trek back through the woods couldn't have been more different from the journey in. Where before every breaking twig, every rustling bush, and every darting shadow had been a threat, now it heralded a new member joining our war band as we stomped through the forest. Where I’d taken care to avoid making excess noise, there was no such concern now, shrubs, saplings and even full on trees where they were densest falling before us, or moving out of our way under the power of the native Grass-Types. Trees would come alive as we passed, great, gaping, jagged maws opening up and eyes peering down at us balefully as the Trevenants commanded the foliage to move from our path.
I walked with Siren in the middle of the parade, side by side with Slowking. Siren had been very quiet during the meeting, yet now that we’d secured their support, she bubbled back and forth with an overly large Caterpie that laid slung over the Shellder on top of the Psychic-Type’s head.
I’d been silent so far, but I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by, even with the rising adrenaline and tension as we got closer and closer to payback. The secrets Slowking guarded were uncountable and I might never get such an opportunity again.
“Thank you for agreeing to this. I know we're asking a lot.”
He shook his head, arms clasped behind his back. The goofy smile had returned and he looked more like he was out for a nice stroll, perambulating through the gardens, rather than heading a small army of bloodthirsty superpowered creatures frothing at the mouth for violence.
“I agreed to nothing. In fact, if you examine your memory thoroughly, you will find that I was closer to speaking against you, than for you. It was they who agreed. Your words resonated with them. As you predicted, there have indeed been quite a lot of missing or captured younglings in the last few years. A certain amount is to be expected. No matter how much we try, the world is a dangerous place for those who fail to exert sufficient caution. A certain amount is to be expected. It is the nature of the world. The circle of life. Whether predation, accident, or simply natural selection, it is the way of things.”
That was a very realist way of looking at things, but I wasn’t really surprised. It was becoming apparent that Pokémon were a lot more in tune with their instincts and nature than humans were.
“Likewise, some will be taken by you humans. We do not mind, generally. We understand that you will provide a secure source of food and greater safety than can be expected in the wild. You even offer strength and it is not uncommon for the more long lived species to return to their birthplace after the passing of their Trainer, adding their might and skill to the greater whole. It is a beneficial arrangement. But sometimes.” A darkness passed over his face, darker than the night around us, a hint of fang glinting. I was starkly reminded that he could kill me with literally a thought. ”Sometimes you go too far. This is one of those times. Do not mistake my hesitation for forgiveness. My priority is simply the safety of all Pokémon that call these islands home. I am actually quite furious.”
I chuckled awkwardly at the none-joke, uncertain how to respond. I fought through it though.
“Earlier you mentioned something about my nature. What did you mean?”
He hummed as he walked. I wasn't sure how far the trip was but at the current pace, I couldn’t imagine that it would take long.
“It is merely a rarity to encounter those that come from another world. Especially those that stopped in the Not-Realm as you yourself did.”
I stumbled and would likely have fallen if not for the rubbery vines that caught me last second and put me back on my feet, a happy, deep squeal originating behind me like a train. I paid my helper no mind, staring at Slowking, causing a higher pitched sound like the air leaving an inflatable mattress.
“Wha- I… I don't-”
“Calm yourself my friend. It is okay. I have no intention of revealing your secrets to anyone. Nor would I have anyone to tell that would find it to be more than an interesting curiosity.” He chuckled.
I relaxed at his words. I don't know why I was so surprised, he’d been in my head and I knew he looked at my memories while there.
“Guess you saw that the first time. It's fine, I suppose. Is that what you meant by my nature? Does being from another world give me some sort of psychic resistance?”
“Not as such, no. I would actually have known your origin even without diving through your memories. It is how I knew to look for you in the first place.”
This shit was getting kinda old. “You know, and I mean no offense, but you talk a lot without actually saying shit. Every time you open your mouth, I just get more questions.”
Slowking threw his head back and laughed, which was a good sign. A less good sign was the vines returning and hoisting me up, cradling me like a toddler. I flailed around, Siren protesting both my squirming and our newfound elevation. A pair of giant eyes peered down at us, squinted into happy half-moons as the giant Tangrowth hopped joyously from one foot to another while continuing on our path. An extra couple of tentacles grabbed the Caterpie from Slowking, wrapping it up so thoroughly that for a second I thought it had evolved into a Metapod, and brought it over in front of Siren so they could continue their conversation. Based on the suffering, yet not surprised expression on the caterpillar, it was not the first time the jolly giant did something like that.
“Do not worry,” the huge tentacle monster twisted me back around to look at Slowking, still keeping me in its grasp. The Water-Psychic seemed terribly amused at my circumstances.
The dick.
“Tangrowth has been with me for a long time now. He is exceedingly friendly, if a little simple. He will not harm you, though never doubt his capability. Many have taken his gentle nature to mean weakness, and many have paid the price.”
At face value it was hard to imagine the Grass-Type as dangerous with the way he was skipping through the forest, whistling cheerfully, yet the strength I could feel in those vines under their soft, bouncy exterior made it legit.
“And you are far from the first to call me frustrating and cryptic. A hazard of old age and spending too much time with other Psychic-Types, I'm afraid. And unfortunately, you are likely to remain frustrated, as we appear to have reached our destination.”
Sure enough, up ahead the vanguard had stopped, slivers of silver light leaking through the gaps. The waiting Pokémon made way for their leader and my wriggly bodyguard, who took the opportunity to pat them on the head.
“This is it. Their base is hidden in a fake tree over there.” I pointed across the clearing to the copse of trees I’d seen the Rocket assassin/kidnapper enter earlier. Slowking nodded and closed his eyes, the ruby that seemed to function like a focus for his psychic energy lighting up. I tried not to tap my foot in impatience, helped by being held aloft. It didn't take long before a frown darkened his features and he reopened his eyes.
“They are well protected. Both Distorted and Deniers, I think. They truly do not want visitors.”
“Distorted? Deniers?” I knew it wasn't the time and I almost let the thought pass by, but the battalion at our back kept the rage at bay.
At least a little. It was still there, bubbling under the surface.
“Ghost and Dark Types by human terminology, I believe.” He waved his hand towards someone further back who moved forward at his signal. I attempted to hide my apprehension as a huge Mightyena stalked past me. I’d thought the Snagem Grunt's had been an impressive specimen, yet the new one put it to shame. Well over five feet at the shoulders, its gray undercoat was so dark it blended almost seamlessly into the void black top fur. Colorless, abyssal energy leaked from it in wisps as it bared its teeth soundlessly at the hideout. My stomach turned from the proximity, a deep pounding pressing against the back of my skull when it passed me by. It padded into the clearing, snout stuck close to the ground as it sniffed heavily, its path swaying left and right.
The discomfort passed along with the mighty canine and I shook my head to dispel the aftershocks. That was fucking weird. And so was sending a single Pokémon when we had an army.
Slowking was already gazing back at me when I looked, an expression vanishing from his face before I could register it. Putting it aside, doubtful I’d get any answers from the old, Dumbeldore-esk Pokémon, I opened my mouth to ask about the plan, only to get preempted.
“While I would hate to make you think I am casting further doubt or suspicion on your claims, I would prefer seeing their intentions with my own eyes before initiating a bloodbath. As I said, and you correctly guessed, many young ones have gone missing as of late. Kind-Sun-Roses’ son disappeared some days ago. She might be able to pick up the scent, as well as reveal their response to a fairly powerful Pokémon approaching them. Not to worry, I will keep her safe.” Another gesture behind him saw a small tremor shake the earth beneath our feet. I couldn’t see what happened, but imagined it was some kind of contingency plan.
There were several questions that arose after that explanation.
First.
“Kind-Sun-Roses?”
Slowking chuckled, eyes still on the Mightyena. “Tangrowth suggested the name. I believe Kind-Sun-Roses thought it was funny.” He gestured to the nightmare vine monster that still hadn't let me down. In fact, glancing back at him, he’d managed to ensnare several other victims and was currently juggling half-a-dozen light green, mushroom-like Pokémon with frilly edges at the bottom of their large flat bodies, small feet kicking frantically as they were thrown around. The Shroomish did not look impressed by their fate.
Okay then. Second question.
Before I got the chance to ask, a spine tingling, heart stopping howl erupted from ahead. Kind-Sun-Roses had her head tilted back and letting out a truly bowl-loosening noise, before continuing on much faster than she started, barely sniffing around anymore.
“She found the scent.” Slowking sighed, a weakness to his voice. “I had hoped… well, I suppose it does not matter anymore. Their guilt is all but confirmed now.”
Which led me back to my question.
“Bloodbath?” I asked somewhat hesitantly. I wasn't sure what I’d been expecting, but something about the casual way he said it…
Slowking appeared almost shocked at my question. It was the first time I heard him saying anything that wasn’t perfectly intended. “OH! My dear boy, I… what did you think we would do with them if we found them to be guilty?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’d just wanted, needed, to do something. And when I got their support… I hadn’t thought about it.
“It's fine,” I said, unsure if I meant it. “They deserve it.” That I did mean.
“Deserve is a hard word to apply properly. If nothing else, they can hardly complain about being treated like they treat others.”
That was true. Some edgelord had once said ‘The only ones who should kill, are those who are prepared to be killed.’ Or something pretentious like it, and I found I quite liked that.
If the Rockets were okay with killing, then I should be okay with them dying. Maybe not quite what the quote meant, but whatever.
Proton definitely had to die though.
Preferably by my hands.
Kind-Sun-Roses was almost at the copse at that point, her speed still increasing. My eyes narrowed as the same fake tree I saw the last time opened and two men stepped out, the red TR lighting up like beacons in the night.
Slowking waved his hand again with a brief flare in his head gem. Suddenly, human voices rang out among us, two of them, as the Rockets words were either projected or copied to our position.
“It's definitely coming this way. I fucking told you so.”
“Stop being so fuckin’ smug, it happens loads. A Persian fuckin' pissed on the door yesterday!”
“Yeah, yeah, you suck I know. Oh, it saw us. Yeah you better fucking stop, you ugly mutt. I'll fuck you up and shove your broken ass in a cage if you take another fucking step-”
“Haha, it definitely fuckin’ heard ya. Itsa big on’ too. Boss'll like that. Didn't we get a biggin Poochyena a bit ago?”
“I don't fucking know, just fucking help me here!”
The trees illuminated with ruby energy as five figures formed in front of Kind-Sun-Roses while she started sprinting at the Rockets, Dark energy gathering around her body.
“I think that's more than enough. What a shame. I had hoped to avoid this.” Slowking sighed again, the red orb in the center of his Shellder hat brightening once more. I looked around our group, trying to see who’d respond.
Nobody moved. Suddenly a commotion broke out among the pair facing our vanguard Mightyena.
I turned back just in time to see a mass of vines burst out of the ground right behind the Rockets. Two thick ones lept forward before they even had a chance to do more than widen their eyes and wrapped tightly around their necks. I could barely see their faces turn bright red, their eyes bugging out of their heads as the tentacles constricted instantly.
CRACK!
I flinched as their bodies went limp, dangling from the vines in a macabre way. I wasn't sure if the loud gunshot-like sound was my imagination or not, but I preferred to think so.
The Rockets Pokémon spun around at the sound, yet was unable to do anything as several of the other vines rapidly grabbed and tapped the Pokéballs on their belts, returning them in flash. The bodies and Pokéballs were then dragged down into the earth as the vines returned. Seconds later, the balls popped back out right in front of Slowking as the tentacles returned to their owner.
“Thank you Tangrowth. Also, if you would be so kind as to let the young Grass-Types down, I believe it is time.”
The mass of green-blue vines squealed happily at the praise, not as much as pausing his juggling or loosening his grasp on mine or Siren's body as he casually killed two people and neutralized almost a whole team of Pokémon. It was only at Slowking's words that Thomas the hentai tank let out his sad deflating train noise and stopped throwing the Pokémon around.
I really wished he would let me down as well. It was one thing to hear that Tangrowth was capable of violence. It was a whole other matter to see how fucking casual he was about it.
“Come. We move.”
In a split second, the forest went from quiet to bedlam. Roars, howls, chirps, buzzing, chest pounding, and much more erupted as everyone dashed forward at their commander's words. Mightyenas, large tan felines with a gem in their forehead, big shaggy, racoon-like creatures with zigzags of pale and dark fur, and furious Primeapes sprinted ahead of the land-bound forces. The air became filled with Beedrills, huge butterflies, enormous bats with a torso the size of mine, and birds of more shapes than I could keep track of as they commanded the sky.
The Rockets evidentially had cameras or something similar set up as before the mob of murderous monsters could make it more than half way in a couple of seconds, the secret door slammed closed.
Slowking hummed from where we remained at the forest edge. I was about to complain about staying out of it, even if there was near nothing I could contribute, when our surroundings shifted. I'd been unconscious the only other time I’d been teleported, but I’d imagined there’d be some kind of indicator, like a flash of light or space twisting. Instead, one second we were being left behind. The next, we were standing by the outer trees of the hideout. I didn't even feel anything.
Slowking held out a hand towards the fake tree that hid the entrance. There was a groan as the fake bark indented in the middle. Narrowing his eyes lightly, Slowking pushed his hand forwards.
The steel screamed as the apparently foot-thick metal door crumbled and twisted at the edges, looking like it had been punched by a giant. Thoughts that proved prophetic as a Primeape leapt over our heads, landing with a huge boxing glove fist reeled back. With a furious scream, it hurled its hand into the door.
Like a bullet the big slab of metal folded completely in two and went flying into the darkness of the revealed opening, the door frame bent out of shape by the force. The Primeape wasted no time, immediately following it down into the staircase, Kind-Sun-Roses right on his heels.
Slowking tsk'd as Pokémon started rushing by us to get stuck in.
“The impatience of youth. No respect. Come on then. Let us see what these monsters of yours have been up to.”
The staircase was narrow, yet tall, though not tall enough for the near nine foot Tangrowth to squeeze in.
“Guard the entrance, my friend.”
The Grass-Type gave a sad wobble as he placed me down on my feet. I was still a little scared of the giant Pokémon, yet I padded his big, rubber arm in comfort, getting a quick vine hug in return.
The stairway was pitch black, until Slowking held up a hand and a ball of light hovered out and floated over our heads. I was busy looking at what I thought was a very cool usage of Flash, so I didn't even notice the second teleport that took us down to the bottom. It was only as we emerged into a cacophony of screams, clanging, and explosions that I figured out that we’d moved.
We’d emerged into a large corridor filled with doors on either side. The Rockets had apparently tried to set up an ambush at the bottom of the stairs, yet it hadn’t gone as they wished.
A dozen corpses lay sprawled out over the hard packed earth of the hideout. Throats were ripped out, the bodies laying facedown in a growing puddle of their own blood. Others were slumbed under craters in the walls, exposed rib fragments poking through their torn shirts from where they’d been punched and had their whole chest crushed. One man, his mouth open to scream even in death, was lying with his hand stretched out in the direction of the stairs, slaughtered as he was trying to escape. His entrails dragged feet behind him, like they were reluctant to let go of his lower body that was, based on the bloodstain on the ceiling, ruthlessly torn away and carelessly thrown aside.
Pokémon weren't spared the massacre either. Small black dogs with white horns were strewn across the corridor, some missing limbs or with their bodies smashed. Near unrecognizable tiny purple corpses with wings were everywhere and hazy black-purple energy lingered on the floor in patches. I even spotted one of our Mightyena and a second smaller one that looked like they killed each other and a Primeape corpse wrist deep in the body of a huge cobra-like snake.
The stench of death, piss, and shit mixed with the screams ringing from every one of the ripped-open doors.
I bent over and vomited. What little bile that had built up over the last day was expelled at the sight and smell, Siren gurgling in concern. I tried to keep it in, but there was no way.
It was a fucking massacre.
Slowking looked at me concerned, seemingly uncaring that he was standing ankle-deep in entrails. “Maybe it would be better if you waited outside.”
I opened my mouth to agree. I’d thought I was okay with the Rockets dying, and maybe I was, but I was not ready for that.
At the same time, a voice called out over a speaker system.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? ARE YOU TEAM ROCKET OR FUCKING INFANTS!? FORM LINES YOU DUMB SHITS, GROUP UP! HOLD THEM BACK! SECURE THE EXPERIMENTS!”
Any nausea or regret vanished the instant I heard the voice. It might be panicking now, having lost the poss accent and overly correct manner of speaking, but I’d never forget that sound.
“No way. Proton's here. I'm not leaving until he's dead.”
Slowking didn't look convinced, but the screams and crashing took priority, especially as a large wave of fire blasted out of the only room with double doors. We hurried over to it, me taking extra care to avoid stepping in the viscera covering the floor. Members of our horde came out of smaller rooms as we passed, some limping or bleeding from wounds. A large dinosaur-looking plant thing, with a green mushroom growing like a hat on top of its beige head joined our side, blood dripping from the red claws on its small t-rex arms. Dual claws of the same red color capped off its powerful legs and a long tail with forest green balls formed like a club swayed behind it. As it passed us, I saw blood running down its face from three large claw marks that ran straight across one of its eyes, leaving it a gory mess.
I took a quick peek into the locker room it came from and almost threw up again. I couldn't tell how many people and Pokémon had been in there originally, but only a mess of mutilated bodies and limbs were left. I looked away when I spotted a man that had been launched into one of the gray metal lockers with such force that his head was forced down under his feet which were sticking out, his spine emerging from his back like a tail.
I stopped looking into the side rooms after that. Even Proton's presence could only hold back so much.
Coming to the room the flames had come from, Slowking stopped in the doorway and gasped. His hands clenched at his sides and for the first time I felt unnerved by him. I’d seen him frown a couple of times, and that alone was disconcerting enough on the perpetually smiling Psychic-Type, yet the sheer fury and rage in his eyes, his lips pulling back over his fangs as he full-on growled at whatever he saw, made me stop in my tracks and even take a step back.
It probably should’ve happened when I realized that he was leading a murder crew, but I suddenly gained a little bit of fear to go along with the respect I felt for the Lord of Sevii.
But there wasn't time for fear. It was time for action and nutting the fuck up. I took a deep breath and stepped up beside him to see what had affected him so.
And immediately gained even more respect for the intelligent Pokémon for his self-restraint.
It was a large room, hundreds of feet long and wide, more like a small warehouse than a single chamber. Unlike the hallway, the floor and walls were not just hard packed earth but looked to have been burnt and polished, maybe even covered in some sort of lacquer as it shined and reflected the various colored lights that shot back and forth between the combatants that took up the center. Machinery, tables with metal cuffs and tools were strewn around, much of it broken from the struggles, IV bags ripped open and leaking different liquids that pooled on the floor. Diagrams and anatomical drawings covered the walls, showing the bone structure and organ placement of different Pokémon I'd seen during my time on Five Island.
I barely noticed all the equipment of the science room or the intense brawl taking place. My heart had dropped to my feet and the nausea had returned with a vengeance.
When I said during my speech that the captured Pokémon would be lucky if they’d just been killed, I’d thought I was talking about being forced to work for Team Rocket and the obedience training involved in that, like what Snagem had done to the Mightyena I faced with Sharon. I’d thought the Rockets might beat the Pokémon, starve them, maybe even drug them if necessary.
I had no fucking clue about the depths of their depravity. Any sympathy for the killed Grunts vanished like smoke in a tornado.
Cages lined the back and side walls, placed under the drawings and posters. The metal prisons were at best three by three feet, solid steel plates at the top and bottom. Filling the cages were Pokémon, many with still attached drops dumping them full of drugs. I saw Rattata staring blankly into the distance, blind to the violent efforts to free them, and medium sized dark gray dogs that reminded me of Mightyena curled up, ignoring everything. Caterpie, red worms that looked like their cousins, easily identified as Wurmples, Metapods, Kakunas, Shroomish, first stage evolutions of every kind so medicated to the gills that they didn't recognise their own parents coming to save them.
They were the lucky ones.
A pidgey mindlessly bashed its head against the bars of its cage, two wings beating furiously. The other pair of wings laid limply at its side, fresh stitches visible where they were attached below the natural ones. A Wurmple tried to crawl forward with the little space its size allowed it, yet was constantly pulled back by the other head that pulled in the other direction, the two Pokémon having been sawn in half and attached by the middle. A ostrich-esk bird laid lifeless, the second, third and fourths heads connected to its neck halfway decomposed, bone shoving.
It just kept going. Eggs cracked open and the underdeveloped fetuses pulled out and dissected, Exeggutors with their lower bodies amputated and dozens of heads rotting all over their corpses, Metapods stitched together in various configurations, Pokémon without half their bodies, but five times the limbs, ones in the middle of decomposing yet still alive, a Golbat without wings or legs and its fangs removed. Every time I turned my head there were more and I had to stop looking, focusing on the fight to try and block it out.
It was a fucking horror show without equal. The bloodbath outside had been bad, but this… this was monstrous. A complete disregard for life that I just couldn't comprehend. Killing was one thing. This kind of torture…
There weren't words.
The combat itself was intense. Zubats and Golbats clashed in the air in a flurry of wings and teeth, blood and venom dripping down on the melee beneath them, the occasional corpse being thrown to join them. The Rockets had managed to establish a perimeter around something in the middle of the room that I couldn't see from my angle, a woman in a white coat appearing to be the leader. Ghost and Dark Types formed their front lines, snarling Mightyena launching pulses of headache inducing void into the frenzied mob frothing for their life's. A brave few tried to engage by physical means, yet were almost immediately overwhelmed. A different canine, even larger than the average Mightyena, lunged at a Breloom with a mouth filled with black-tinted flames. Curled horns of what looked like bone emerged from its head, similar armor covering its back like an inverted rib cage. The Houndoom's attack was swiftly dodged with a side step, overextending it and leaving it open to a kick to the ass that sent it into the middle of its enemies. I refocused my attention as it was covered in blurring fists while two Primeapes took the opportunity to reduce it to pulp, bones snapping as its pain filled yips died almost instantly.
The other Rocket Pokémon were for the most part smart enough to stay behind their protectors. Gaseous purple and black energy swirled around the space in between the two groups, shifting and splitting to intercept any wild Pokémon that tried to make progress. Spiny, needle-like teeth flashed from grinning maws before vanishing into the miasma, clawed hands and leering eyes appearing and disappearing at random. The toxic smoke shied away from the blast of void that was slung back and forth, giving a brief opportunity for a counter-attack, but seemed very effective at keeping the numerically inferior force in the game.
The Rockets themselves were huddled up in the middle, frantically shouting out orders to try and gain control over the slugfest. Several yellow humanoids were among them, most with a white mane around their necks, a large nose and holding a pendulum with their stubby fingers that jumped and strained with pink energy as the Hypnos focused. The other one looked frail, its limbs thin other than the huge bulbous tail sticking out behind it like a dump truck ass. Big mustache-like tufts of fur poked out from its feline face, a red star mark resting between its shut eyes as it clutched a spoon with two trembling hands.
The source of the Psychic-Types struggles weren't hard to find given the light erupting from her form. At first glance, what appeared like a woman hovered by the back ranks of our forces, arms extended to either side. Her head was hidden by a green helmet that resembled hair, green covering her arms as well. A long white dress swayed in an invisible wind under her as she radiated silver energy. I couldn’t see her front, but I knew if I could, I’d see a red horn-like protrusion in the middle of her chest.
It was an odd thought to have at the time, and I’d never admit it to Siren, but Gardevoir was undoubtedly the most beautiful Pokémon I’d ever seen. She let out a noise I couldn't describe, like chime music in my soul, as soft pink beams mixed with the silver ones and fired into the enemies, only to be diverted into the ground or ceiling by her opposition.
I turned to ask Slowking how to proceed, yet he wasn't there. Turning back to the fight, I saw him, wading through the crowd with speed I hadn't thought him capable of. A slobbering Golbat swooped down to intercept him. It didn't get within 10 feet of him before a light-blue energy grabbed hold of its body. I didn’t even see Slowking gesture as the huge bat was squished into a softball of blood and gore that flew forward with such force that I saw it break the neck of a Mightyena. A wave of his hand had a portion of the miasma swirling together and imploding on itself, the others seizing the chance to push forward.
I felt useless. I’d started all of it and now I couldn't do anything other than watch from the back.
“I NEED ASSISTANCE IN THE OFFICE! JUST GRAB THE FUCKING EGG, WE CAN REPLACE THE REST!”
My mind sharpened. Any doubt vanished like a candle in the wind. Proton was still here and there was something in the lab that he wanted.
And I was gonna make sure he didn't get it.
Everyone was so focused on the brawl that nobody noticed a small child holding a fish moving around the edge of the room. I ignored the poor souls in the cages, just like they ignored me, as trapped mentally as they were physically. It took several minutes to make it to the back of the huge room, even walking faster than I probably should’ve been, but eventually I got behind and slightly to the right of the Rockets. Heavy steel tables and other large pieces of equipment had been thrown together to create a barricade to protect their back from sneak attacks. It wouldn't hold a grown Pokémon back for more than a couple of seconds, but it would serve to warn them. From my new vantage point, I could see what they were protecting and what Proton wanted enough to delay backup.
A big glass dome was connected to a bowl-shaped machine with a large number of buttons, displays and lights around the edge. A dozen wires ran through small holes in the glass and tracked the contents with diodes that ran back to monitors which displayed more numbers. A single Rocket was messing around with the machine, his youthful and acne marked face pale, sweat pouring down his features while he ripped wires out as fast as he could, trying to get it ready for transport.
And I could see why.
In the middle of what I’d guess to be an incubator of sorts, was an egg. But not just any egg. Siren's egg had been slightly smaller than a football, which had still been larger than anything I’d ever seen before. This new one was at least three times that size, blood red highlights accenting the deep blue color of the egg, clearly defined scales visible unlike Siren's which had merely hinted at them.
I didn't know what was in it, but it was clearly no ordinary Pokémon.
Which meant there was no way it was leaving this room in any hands that weren't mine.
“I'm about to do something stupid,” I whispered to Siren, the Feebas quietly gurgling at me in admonishment. “Get ready to cover me.”
I slowly crept closer, staying crouched and hoping the makeshift fortifications would keep me out of eyesight. I couldn’t see the battle anymore, but judging by the increased speed the Rockets threw out orders at and the higher pitch, it was going in favor of my side with the added force of Slowking.
Soon I was right next to the barricade of random shit. Peering through the gaps, I could see the young Rocket had almost finished freeing the egg, removing the last diode as I watched.
I was out of time. Shifting my grip, I held Siren by the base of her tail and told her the plan. If it could be called such.
“Just like the Snagem Grunt.” She didn't offer any protest, yet the look in her eyes conveyed her exasperation clearer than any gurgle could.
Grasping the sideways table before me with my free hand, absently noting the large yellow G on it, I took a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves. What I was about to do was so fucking dumb, but I couldn’t hide while these fucks killed everyone around me again. I had to do something.
Even if it was going down swinging.
Literally.
Securing my footing, I leapt up with all my strength, pivoting with my hand on the table. I underestimated the force, still not used to the heightened physicals of my new body, and ended up almost doing a handstand. The miscalculation gave the Grunt enough time to look up from his work and start reacting.
“WHAT THE FUCK-”
SMACK!
Gravity, physical strength, and Siren's short-range, improvised Tackle slammed into the crown of the Grunt's head. His eyes went completely white like in a fucking anime as his knees failed and he crumbled to the ground, instantly unconscious.
I stumbled a little on the landing, though I managed to retain my grip on Siren. The other Rockets had heard the shout and started turning around as I directed my momentum into a lunge for the egg.
A wispy cloud of purple-black toxic gas appeared from the corner of my eye, jumping from the larger mass protecting their position. Huge eyes formed over a large, open mouth with a pair of long fangs chomping down towards my arm. The hand holding Siren had ended up behind me with the lunge, my weight currently balanced on one foot. There wasn't time to bring her around, and even if I could, hitting a ghost with a fish didn't sound like a recipe for success.
So I did the only thing I could. Even if it was inarguably an even worse idea.
Twisting on the ball of my foot, I threw my entire weight behind swinging my arm at the Gastly before it could bite down. My palm hit the side of its man sized face.
SMACK!
I didn’t know whose expression was most shocked, mine or the Gastly's, when instead of passing straight through, I hit something semi-solid and springy, like a rubber ball. The Gastly compressed slightly at the force and bounced back a foot, looking completely flummoxed at getting bitchslapped by a child. The confusion was swiftly replaced by anger, the Ghost shrieking at a glass-shattering pitch and preparing for a second attack. It was interrupted by Siren swinging herself up by the tail and nailing it between the eyes with a Water Gun. The elemental attack was a lot more effective than my slap, yet still barely amounted to more than pushing it back a distance, doing little damage. It did seem to piss it off even more as rather than going in for a third try, it gathered a ball of miasma in front of it-
-and was promptly crushed by the jaws of a Persian, its fangs gleaming with abyssal energy. The Gastly evaporated into lingering pockets of ghostly energy as the Persian used the hole it had managed to punch through the perimeter to attack the Rockets from the side. I barely paid it any attention, or the burning, numbing feeling spreading through my fingers, making for the egg again. I managed to grab it, clutching it and Siren close to my chest as I spun on my heel and jumped back over the table I came from.
I twisted in the air and hit the ground back first with a loud grunt. Letting the egg rest against my chest, I held Siren like she was a rifle, pointed up at the edge of the barricade for any pursuers.
But none came. I used my feet to shuffle along the floor back to the wall, Feebas Cannon at the ready, until my back hit a cage containing one of the double-ended Wurmple. Using it to brace against, and quickly shifting the egg to the ground, I pushed myself to my feet and took in the situation. Only then did I allow myself to relax a little.
The Rockets were way too busy to worry about me. The distraction I’d caused had pulled enough attention from both Trainers and Pokémon that the locals had managed to push through. The intermingling layer of Ghost-Types had been dispersed by the combined efforts of the Dark-Types, Gardevoir, and Slowking, with most of the opposing melee fighters falling shortly after.
Even as I watched, the woman in white tried to guard herself as a Primeape grabbed her by the legs. She let out a scream as a Persian, the same one that had saved me from the Gastly, sunk its teeth into her shoulder. The two Pokémon pulled away from each other and I barely managed to close my eyes before a series of snaps and pops were barely heard over all the screaming, followed by a tearing noise and wet splats as something I preferred not thinking about hit the floor.
It wasn't smart, but I kept my eyes closed as the sounds of struggle started dying down. They had it handled.
I flinched when something touched my shoulder, calming down when I saw that it was Slowking. The Water-Psychic-Type had dollops of blood sprinkled across most of his body, yet was remarkably untouched despite the chaos.
“I really had not thought that I would need to tell you to stay back, yet you continue to surprise me. What in the world were you thinking?”
I gave my best smile, but my heart wasn't in it. All the emotional whiplash had left me drained.
“It worked, didn't it.”
Slowking hummed, shaking his head at me. “I suppose it did. I will even admit that it sped up the fighting. I still do not condone it. Come,” a gesture had me telekinetically pulled to my feet, “Radiant-Moon will see to your hand.” He nodded over to the Gardevoir that was floating between injured Pokémon.
At his words the throbbing burning sensation came back. I looked down at my hand and immediately wished I hadn’t. The tips of my fingers were colored black that faded into purple halfway down the digits. Tendrils of poison extended all the way to the heel of my palm, veins pulsing and straining. The skin that had made impact with the Gastly was gone, corrupted flesh visible that refused to bleed.
It looked and felt fucking terrible and I really wanted it attended to.
It could also wait.
“Not yet. Proton's still here. We need to get him before he escapes.”
Slowking sighed, yet didn't fight me. “If you insist. I understand the urge to conclude this endeavor. Come then, I imagine he is with the last pocket of resistance. Our own Distorted have sealed the area. There is no teleporting out.”
Any attempts at avoiding the carnage the lab had been so liberally painted with was impossible. I tried my best to ignore the squelching sound of every step, the way my shoes stuck to the floor, and the wetness seeping through my socks. Despite keeping my eyes on the exit, they flickered with every cut-off gasp and wet crunch as the stubborn Rockets that still clung to life were finished off. The smell was intensifying with every second as more and more corpses released their various fluids. Breathing through my mouth left my tongue covered in a film, the taste of iron overpowering. My head was spinning, dizziness getting worse the longer I was in there. It got so bad I didn't notice that Slowking put some kind of bubble of Psychic energy around my head.
Finally emerging into the slightly less gory hallway, I leaned against the wall and took deep gulps of the filtered air coming through the bubble, Slowking gracefully snatching Siren and the egg from me.
“Thanks. I'm sorry, it's just…”
“A perfectly natural reaction for your first time. There is a reason only the adults have joined us for this little… excursion. This is no place for children. If only you would have been as smart as our infants.”
I chuckled weakly. “Yeah, maybe you're right. But I have to see this through.” I ran a hand down my face, flinching at the sticky residue left behind. Dark red viscera that I prayed was just blood, clung to my uninjured hand and had been smeared across my features. I could feel a sensation of horror trying to rise up from the bottom of my stomach, yet it was one of the least horrific things that had happened to me lately.
Taking back both my Pokémon and the unhatched one, we made our way down to the end of the hallway. A large doorway faced towards the exit, the door itself laying in splintered chunks on the floor, while shapes moved around rapidly within. As we got to the edge of the frame, that hated fucking voice rang out again, without speakers this time. I almost lost it through the sounds of combat, yet I’d find him in a thunderstorm from miles away if that was what it took.
“YOU FUCKING- FUCKING SHIT! THIS AIN'T OVER YA FUCKS! GENGAR!”
My eyes widened at the last word, rushing the last bit to get into the room. It was as different from the lab as could be when both places were covered in blood. Dark wood walls used to house numerous large paintings for decor, yet the canvases were now decimated and ruined with gore. A massive desk was halfway indented through the left wall, glass shards and golden liquid mixing with the red on the wooden flooring of a similar hue to the walls, hard as it was to see through the mess. A huge leather reclining chair was cut in two incredibly neatly, likely by the Scyther I saw bury one blade-arm in the skull of an enormous Arbok. It appeared to have been a very nice, high-end office before it turned into a battlefield.
I took it all in in a second, rapidly scanning for the fuck. By the back wall, the direction our allies were fighting, and succeeding, to get at, a pair of shapes were quickly moving backwards. I had a moment to see slanted teal eyes, hair of the same color partly covered by a black cap. The man was holding onto a large purple Ghost-Type before the Pokémon pulled him sideways, through reality, and was gone.
I stared at the spot they vanished from in disbelief as the remaining Rockets that had put their faith in their leader were brutally slaughtered. Dozens, if not a hundred, living beings had been fucking mutilated, and at the end of it all… Proton got away?
The fucking cunt stain that was behind it all, fucking got away?
It took until every enemy was dead for me to realize that the rage filled scream was mine.
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That was a lot but we'll be moving back into some more lighthearted stuff for a while.
Thank you for reading.
