Legend of Volraith 2 - Scars
Chapter two Scars (Prologue - continued) They say that Arceus is the forefather of everything. He created it all. His creations - Dialga and Palkia - then created existence. Time and space. Once time began to move and space filled the void, there were more. With space present - by unwritten law - matter was required. This matter took form as Groudon, Kyogre and Rayquaza. They created the earth. Land appeared in space, seas flowed from the bowels of this lump of rock, land rose from the seas, and an atmosphere surrounded the earth, and enclosed it. Mew, the father of the genome, then created more Pokémon. Mesprit, Uxie and Azelf - we assume they were created by Mew, especially with something unique - gave them personalities, and taught them emotions. That accounts for the universe, how it flows, the earth and Pokémon - but that leaves one major factor still to be accounted for. One factor that we still cannot understand... Us. Where did we come in? How did we come to be? By who's hand? If Mew created Pokémon, who created humans? What are we? Unfortunately, I found the answer to that a couple of weeks ago: Destruction... And destruction is what we thrive on... I wish I never learned. I wish I wasn't as foolhardy. I wish I had just run... but I can't now. I've started something, and now I'm left with a bitch of a mess to clean up... * The chopper blades toss up a gust below, flicking the ladder about beneath it. Lance simply grabs it and pulls it taut. It stops waving about. "Put these on." He draws his hand free of his pocket. Sunglasses. Dark tint. Two pairs. I reach my hand out and grab one, but give him a questioning glance. "Watch." He slips his pair on - as do I - and turns around to face the agents down the bottom. The lead agent calls something loudly to the civilians - but his words are lost to me under the whirring chopper blades. Like a precisely choreographed move, every agent reaches into his pocket, and draws out a pair of sunglasses too. Unfold left, unfold right, lift glasses with right hand to head, press bridge onto nose. Perfect unison in the move. The agent in the middle then reaches into his other pocket, and he draws out a small metal stick of some sort. It flashes. I shake my head quickly to rid myself of the glary flashing stinging my eyes. "What was that?" I watch the civilians as I speak. They all stumble about a little, like they're drunk. They stare at the place around them, occasionally shouting and gasping. "Their memories have been erased." Lance explains, urging me up the ladder. I obey, and quickly scramble up to the chopper. The interior makes it obvious - it's no military chopper. Bleached leather interior - all the way. There's heaps of legroom, soft lighting, a coffee table and even a mini-fridge at the back. Definitely not military standard. Lance climbs in behind me and pulls the door closed. "Take a seat." He ushers me to a seat on the far side, and falls into his own opposite me. His elbows rest on his knees and his fingers form a bridge, supporting his chin as his head falls onto it with a deep sigh. "From the beginning." He says after a moment. As he speaks, the chopper tilts a little - taking off. "We have time. Start from the start. Give me some idea of what's going on here, and how this all started..." * It all started when I lost my job at the petrol station... * Fuck I hate Pokémon. "You can't be serious!" My mouth falls. This can't be true! After everything I've done! His huge, cold hand lands on my shoulder. He sighs as he glances over his shoulder. At the counter, a Lucario fiddles with a nametag attached to his shirt. "BP Oil. Hello, my name is THAMES." "Thames" slightly stylised, being a label stuck to the regular template nametag. I can still see the corner of the tag... the corner of another label pokes out from underneath. Underneath the "THAMES" label, is a "TANE" label. My label. "I'm sorry, kid." The big man pats my shoulder softly as he turns back to me. His eyes glisten moistly - even he's having trouble dealing with this. "Government says I need at least one Lucario working. Even if I only have two employees hired. You know I can't fire my son... so, it's gotta be you..." "B-but... I've been here for two years!" I protest. My mind boggles in confusion, and doesn't feed me the words I need to properly express my disapproval. "I worked over Christmas, for Arceus' sake! I stayed in late and cleaned up after-hours!" He nods slowly. His patronising hand still pats my shoulder in a slow, rhythmic pattern. "I know you have." He says - he still isn't giving in. "And I greatly appreciate that. You've done a lot more than my lazy good-for-nothing boy... but he's still my son. But you're a good kid, so I know you'll find someone who'll give you a job." My balled fists at my sides fall limp. My red, shaking fingers loosen their grip on my palm, and they hang. "So that's it, huh?" I step away and brush his hand away. "You're just throwing me out?" "Don't make me look like the bad guy." He pleads as he moves for me again. "Don't." I step back again - nearly bumping into a rack of candy bars - and hold up a hand to him. "I get it. You don't need me here anymore, just - just don't make excuses." I spin around and walk quickly towards the store entrance. My hands fly into my pockets, one wrapping tightly around a cheque stuffed into one. "So long." "Tane - wait!" The doors slide open with a merry ping at the back of the shop, and I storm out onto the forecourt. "Tane! Stop!" "I don't have to listen to you!" I spin around. He stops halfway out the sliding doors as my stare kills his willpower. "You're not my boss anymore, so I don't have to do anything!" I throw my head back and head for a bike parked against one petrol pump. I promptly throw my leg over and gun the engine before he reaches me. "Please just let me-" "No." I state. I twist the throttle and surge away from the petrol pump just as he nears me. I swing around onto the road without checking for traffic, and speed away to the south. Fucking Pokémon. * So... I wasn't having the best of days. Understandably. But I went back the next day and apologized. David's been a family friend for a while, and I wasn't going to let something as stupid as my job get in the way of that. I mean - I understood his decision. Doesn't mean that I like it, but I understand. So, I was a little calmer once I got that out of my system. David hooked me up with a few of his mates' numbers who were looking for workers, with his recommendation. As one door closed, another door opened, and I saw some golden opportunities in some of his contacts. David knew people all over the place - and so I set my eyes on a position at the day-care. I don't really hate Pokémon, in fact I'm pretty good with them. (learned a lot from my brother) Their personalities are great, most Pokémon at the day-care are cheery, it seemed like a great opportunity - especially since I had always wanted to become a breeder. In fact, I pieced together the genetic composition of my younger brother's Blaziken a few years ago. When I was only thirteen. But anyway - day care. I like Pokémon, though, sometimes Lucarios piss me the fuck off... which is ironic, come to think of it... but anyway, back to my story. So I called up the day-care that day and arranged for an interview. Yeah, I was happy for a moment - though that moment was short lived. I had school the next day, and that's when the trouble really started... * Her eyes gleam, shining with absolute pleasure as she stalks between us. Through the north window, the streaming sunlight catches on the highly-polished barrel of a 44. Magnum, locked and loaded. Her finger, pale and slender, teases the trigger with a disturbingly strong confidence, barrel upright and pointed to the roof. She strides again to the front of class, and she turns to us. Every one of us gets a good look down the barrel as it traces between us. "This is a forty-four magnum." Her sweet voice is thick with mirth as she explains, revelling in our mixture of fear and joy. She lays the barrel across her other hand, rubbing a thumb along as she continues. "The forty-four magnum holds six rounds. I have loaded it... with oneround." Suddenly, she starts towards us again. She glides between our desks with a merry hum, eyeing each of us for a second as we struggle not to burst into laughter. Her fingers still dance on the trigger, plucking the edge like the string of a violin. "Tell me class..." She spins. Her raven black hair sweeps out behind her and she pivots on a toe, suddenly swinging the gun around. The gun and her hair settle, the former on a boy my age sitting across from me. His face freezes in instinctive terror as the cold barrel rests on his forehead - the rest of us hold our breath. "if I was to pull the trigger..." Her voice takes an almost sing-song, innocently whimsical tune, "what chance is there that Irving here would survive?" A small, quiet chortle rises from across the room somewhere, but nobody answers. "Anyone?" She asks with a shrug, smiling to the rest of us. The boy still holds perfectly still, mind probably racing. "Nobody?" We all know the answer. One in six chance - we just don't want to kill the atmosphere. "A one-in-six chance, that Irving would die." Click. Irving cringes - his eyes clench shut tightly as the teacher pulls the trigger. "Irving is lucky." The teacher chuckles, lifting the barrel away again. She starts again with a thoughtful murmur. She stalks between us with the dark grace of an Absol. Gorgeous and shining, but grim and unsettling. She stops beside a girl my age. She smiles as terror sweeps the girl's face, like the boy before whose eyes are still clenched. "Amelia? Are you lucky?" She brings the gun up and snaps the trigger quickly this time. Click Another muffled chuckle as the teacher steps back. "It seems so." She turns around to face the rest of us. "That was a one in five chance. The further we go, the worse your luck." And so she continues with her exceptionally dynamic teaching methods, stirring both fear and merriment with every pull of the trigger. After the girl, three more times she pulls. "And so, we reach lucky last." Of course - she stops beside me. We all know this is the last bullet. A one-hundred-percent chance. I manage to smile faintly as the cold steel of the barrel stings my forehead. She smiles back, and cocks her head. "You're awfully happy for a boy who's about to die." I sharpen my face - narrow my eyes, grit my teeth and stare at her, pulling my best "moment's notice" serious face. "You may strike me down..." I hiss, pressing forwards against the barrel, challenging her. "... You may kill me... But another will take my place!" "Then they will die like you." She growls in return. Her finger tightens - pauses for a moment halfway through to see the last shed of light in my eyes before she puts it out - then fires. Bang! I swear, the entire class but me leaps halfway out of their seats. I overcome my own shakiness quickly, and manage to chuckle as the barrel leaves my head. "Crap. I'm dead." The teacher smiles, and she twirls the gun around her forefinger like a cowboy. "How sad, too bad - never mind." She shoves the gun into her pocket, and continues to the front of the class. Drifting behind her, the sweet, aphrodisiac scent of Razzberries and gunpowder. Strangely - it's the gunpowder that turns me on. Chicks with guns... Arceus, I love that woman... Firing blanks at her class though - that's a first. She continues to the front of class, where an Ambipom holds a whiteboard marker in each giant hand. "As you can see, class..." She takes one marker from her Pokémon and brings it to the board. "With each successive shot-" We all spin towards the door as it creaks. The reinforced window blurs as the light distorts with the door's movement, and a hefty, bulky man strides in. The teacher quickly grabs the hem of her coat and pulls it over the gun in her pocket. To mask the save, she quickly brushes a hand through her hair and buttons the top button of her "Pokémon rangers" jacket. Seemingly, she's just preening herself for the newcomer. Very smooth of her. One more thing I love about my maths teacher. "Ms Watson." The man rumbles as he steps inside, nodding stiffly. Ms Watson bobs her head quickly and clasps her hands together, replacing her naturally manic grin with a pleasant, polite smile. "You remember our discussion earlier last week?" Ms Watson's smile twitches ever-so-slightly. I think only I notice - due to my tendency to focus so single-mindedly on her - but it twitches just for a moment. "I do." She nods. Time seems to slow as she turns to me. As soon as her head starts moving, I know something's wrong. Her eyes don't move naturally. Instead of sweeping the room, checking every person, they jump straight to me. The look in her eyes - the one that only stalker-me can identify - sinks my heart. What follows the principal through the doorway only confirms it. I nearly growl it aloud as I swing back to the door. Lucario... Hidden by my straight lips, my teeth grit as two of them enter the room, glancing about and looking rather lost. "As dictated by the latest bill passed," The principle starts, speaking in his "I'm fucking important" voice, "every school is to include a quota of Lucario students, in accordance with DHAA's latest sentiency evaluations. Therefore, Aedrine and Thames will be joining you in Ms Watson's class." I know what's about to happen next. I just... don't want to face it. "Tane?" "Yeah?" I somehow manage to stay calm and casual, turning to Ms Watson as the low-point of my life looms, just seconds away. Her face says it all. Sorry. "We're already at maximum capacity in this room. Due to having the highest grades in this class, the other staff members and I have opted to transfer you and John Andrews to the advanced mathematics class." No...! * And so I was shifted up into advanced maths with Mr Bradcock. A grumpy old fart - god-awfully boring. He pretty much threw me straight in the deep end. He didn't even wait to see if I floated. He just threw me in, turned his back on me and let me drown in the massive workload that I still don't fully understand. I was torn from the gorgeous, awesome, fucking amazing teacher on whom I had a massive crush, and thrown hopelessly into the higher class to be eaten alive. And it was all that Lucarios fault. That same Lucario, Thames. The same one who took my job. It was all terrible for a while after that. I struggled with class, my bank balance declined gradually as I found my interview at the day-care constantly rescheduled. It was shit - but at least I had a few mates who stayed on my side... Well, until that day that everything changed. You see - that Lucario. Thames. The one who took my job, took my teacher and class, took my entire livelihood... he pushed it a little bit too far. You see - Thames was actually an asshole... * It- *
"Tane..." Lance interrupts, "I meant how did this start? You haven't even told me what's going on." I sigh and lean back against the side of the chopper. I glance through the window behind me, looking over the cityscape passing by. Cars streaming across bridges, getting caught in gridlock and buzzing all around everywhere. Skyscrapers bordering the horizon, windows alight with activity. Jubilife. The biggest city in all of Sinnoh. "I have powers." I say eventually, willing myself to turn and look him in the eye. He deserves a straight explanation. "I've evolved." "So that's what I saw..." He murmurs. The shadow balls. He saw them. "You can create shadow balls?" "I can do more." I hold up one hand. His eyes fixate on it as I sheath my arm to the elbow in darkness, as if readying another shadow punch. "And more." His eyes flick to my other arm as it raises, and it sheathes itself in a veil of flames. "And yet - more." I dispel each, and then bring both hands up. From the fingers down, a layer of black descends down my arm to my elbow. At the tips of my fingers, the skin parts as I feel my claws slide free. It's no longer painful - I've done it a number of times. The black covers both forearms - glimmering with tiny specks of white. They're like the night sky - black and starry. "Night slash." I explain. "I evolved into a Pokémon." "I see..." He nods slowly. He's always been good at handling the unbelievable. "How? How did you... evolve?" "I destroyed." I say coldly, pressing every syllable onto him forcefully. Even he feels it. it doesn't affect him, but he feels the menace I exude. "You felt that, didn't you? People feel weird things around me now." "The Lucario." He realises. "This happened after you killed the Lucario." "It did." I nod. "I remember the taste of his blood... it was rich... too rich. It's blood that does it." "His blood gave you your power?" "And more." I nod. "More Pokémon attacked me after the trial. Most people accepted that I killed him out of self-defence - but some Pokémon didn't like the verdict. They've attacked me - so I've killed them." "Arceus..." He buries his head in his hand again. "How many...?" I lift my hand to my head, and I strip away my beany. "You tell me." He stares. He gapes and stares at my forehead. "VI. Six..." He shakes his head slowly. "Everything you kill... is counted on your forehead?" "Yeah." I nod and slide my beany back on. I don't want him to stare. I don't want anyone to see it. My scars remind me that the past is real... "Alright..." He sighs and drops his head to stare at his boots. Heavy military boots. The kind made for kicking people's asses and walking all over them. Solid, black leather. "I'll see what I can do. I'll keep the feds off you and see if I can get you a protection detail - just... don't say a thing to anybody. About any of this." "Okay..." I nod a little. "I'm sorry..." Lance leans forwards in his seat. His arm spans the gap between us, and lands on my knee. "It's okay..." He reassures me, nodding. "I understand if you felt like keeping this a secret. But for future reference - you tell me if something happens, okay? I'll take care of it." "Okay..." I nod again, managing a faint smile. He's such a great guy. "Thanks..." * So - we thought it would be okay. The feds cleaned up the situation nicely - wiping people's memories in the mall and the office block I burst through. They actually did one better - and instead of just denying the situation like I had expected, they planted false evidence to incriminate a Zoroark. The whole "Shadow punch" thing, and the illusionary fire I created worked seamlessly, and nobody suspected a thing. Apparently the Zoroark erased the memories of those who saw it. We thought it was all good. We were wrong. Because there was someone who heard the whole thing. Lance's helicopter pilot. He blabbed about the whole thing and made a heap of cash from the media. Of course - I was hounded to no end - yet Lance was nowhere to be seen. The FBI told me he was on annual leave in Kanto. And as Lance told me - Annual leave is "undercover", and Kanto is "Unova". The news corporations were all over me, and it was no time before everyone knew about me. Schoolmates, my parents (my younger brother already knew. I told him), people all over the world knew that I was a freak. Then there were suddenly more. More "freaks" popped up everywhere. It was funny how suddenly the numbers of Lucarios killed in "self-defence" rose dramatically. "It tried to attack me - just out of nowhere! But we fought it off, but we ended up killing it. I thought - I might as well - so I drank its blood. Seriously! It was self-defence!" There's the jist of it. Now - I'm not saying that everyone lied. I'm saying ninety percent lied, but I truly did believe a few cases. Sure - most were power-hungry humans trying to get what they craved, - power - but some were in fact self-defence. Consider this - you're a Lucario. Suddenly the world finds out they can become powerful by killing your kind and drinking your blood. Wouldn't you get a little anxious around humans too? It you felt threatened by a human or thought it was about to attack you - would you attack it? I would. So thus - I had created a pretty big problem. So therefore I came up with a solution. I way to fix it as best as I could, doing what I did best. Caring for Pokémon at the day-care centre. Because following the discovery by one particularly cruel bastard that the blood of a Riolu worked just as well - the numbers of Lucarios being placed in the day-care with breeding privileges doubled... I had to do something - and I've been doing something for the last two months... Author's notes: Yay! The prologue's done now. Cue time-warp 2 months ahead... Anyway, there's chapter 2 for you. If you haven't noticed yet - every chapter is a reference to a song, and one line from that song is included. So I've taken a leaf from Zombicial Maniac and his Rise Against references. This chapter is "Scars" by Papa Roach. "My scars remind me that the past is real..." Last chapter was "Going In Blind" by POD. One of my all-time favourite songs. "Time after time - I'm going in blind - I don't know which way I need to go." A little trouble on chapter 3 title - but I'll get there. Please review or comment if you have the time. I'd appreciate feedback. I don't actually get many reviews, so I'm a bit literately starved.