literature

New World Chapter I: The Prisoner

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The strange artificial lights flickered on as the world's greatest trainer slowly stepped his way down the metal corridor.

Of course he was the greatest Pokémon trainer to have ever lived. He was the one who had discovered this place, who had found the ancient map leading to mysterious, almost otherworldly underground structure. He was the one who would capture the ancient monster within its walls.

No one would ever doubt his power again.

In his shaking hand, he held a small, orange sized sphere of some unknown metal alloy with red and white halves. The pokeball contained a Pokémon, held in stasis. He had two identical pokeballs on his belt, each with their own creatures, and another one in his bag. That one was empty.

The legendary beast he hunted for would be that ball's inhabitant.

The lights lining the ceiling began gain brightness, becoming almost blinding. One at a time, they exploded, showering the floor with sparks which all fizzled out, plunging the hallway into darkness.

The trainer's reflexes were automatic. Before he even had time to think about it, the Pokeball was already thrown on the floor, producing a brilliant flash of white light that materialized into Scyther.

The man sized insectoid flexed its powerful arms ending in the vicious scythes that were its namesake. It screeched threateningly, eager for battle.

The trainer's head filled with thoughts of absolute dread. Whatever was at the end of this corridor terrified him beyond all belief. He should not have come to this place. He must get out of here. He must…

No.

No, the horror he felt was not his own, he realized. Those thoughts were coming from outside. Something was making him think that.

The fear disappeared, replaced by a burning hot rage. This too, was not of his own making, whatever was watching him was seething with anger so deep, it almost hurt. He was not supposed to be here. He must be gotten rid of. He must be disposed of…

Something moved in the darkness.

In a flash, Scyther's blades struck out.

A moment passed, the only sound the faint buzz of Scyther's wings. Finally, a small object rolled to the trainer's feet. It was the bird head of a Xatu, blood pouring from the slashed off neck and beak hanging limply open.

The trainer smiled faintly. Was this the best defense that could be offered by this ancient place? Scyther hadn't even broken a sweat. If bugs could sweat that is.

Surely there was no Pokémon trainer greater than he!

He followed down the pitch black hallway, Scyther leading the way. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, but he could still barely see a thing. If only he had a fire Pokémon to light the way, this would be no problem at all!

The hallway ended in a large metal door, far too strong for Scyther or any of his other pokemon to break through. His eyes spotted a small square on the right of the door, divided into into other squares, each with a number on it. He had no idea what the purpose of such a thing, but for some reason, he knew that it was important.

He examined the small pad, eying it quizzically. Without thinking about why, he reached out and touched the number three. The pad made a quiet beep.

The trainer knew what to do. Fingers guided by a source he didn't know or even realize was there, he pressed the numbers eight, two, nine, four, eight, seven, four, five, nine in quick succession, each stroke eliciting a hopeful little beep.

The door opened with an earsplitting screech that showed its age.

The room inside was filled with large glass tubes, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Many of the tubes were smashed; shards of broken glass carpeted the floor, crunching under the trainer's feet. The remaining tubes were filled with an almost opaque green fluid.

Two dim lights in the ceiling came on, their feeble beams focused on the tube in the center of the chamber. Through the green murk, the trainer could just make out the shape of a figure inside.

His heart soared. So this was the legendary pokemon hidden in the underground labyrinth. The stories had been true.

He pointed at the glass tube. "Scyther, smash it open."

Scyther did not respond.

"Scyther, smash it open!"

For the first time, he noticed that his pokemon had been keeping its distance. Its wing buzzed excitedly, and the giant bug looked like it was using all of its concentration and self-control to simply stand still.

Scyther was terrified. It looked desperate to turn and run.

This was foolish, the trainer thought. Whatever was in that tube would certainly be unconscious. It would be caught without even a battle.

But still, Scyther showed no signs that it would follow his command. The trainer found this extremely annoying. When he had captured the prisoner of this place, he would no longer need inferior pokemon like that overgrown bug. Scyther was about to become obsolete.

The trainer found a heavy chair lying upturned among the room's wreckage and flung it against the tube. It failed to break through. Angry at the setback, he struck the glass again, and again, and again, until a small crack appeared.

As if by magic, the tiny crack grew longer, spreading out into more breaks along the tube, forming a vast system of fissures in the glass.

The tube exploded, showering the trainer with sharp, jagged pieces of glass and the foul smelling green liquid.

When he looked up, he saw the legendary pokemon standing utterly motionless in the center of where it's transparent prison had been, like the statue of an ancient and terrible god.

It was almost humanlike, but far too tall, and with a long tail behind it's legs. It's pale white skin stretched over it's emaciated, almost skeletal form. It's head had no hair, no ears, and no nose, only a tiny, seemingly lipless mouth and two closed eyes.

Scyther was absolutely hysterical , it spun frantically around, seeming to want to flee in every direction at once, loyalty to its master the only thing stopping it from running away.

Very slowly, the creature began to raise its head. It was not asleep. Panic rose in the trainer's gut.

"Scyther! Attack!"

The creature opened its cobalt eyes.

Scyther exploded, spraying its former master with its stinking bug guts.

The creature regarded him with a look of cold disdain.

Human. Why have you come to this place? The pokemon's lips did not move in the slightest, but the trainer could hear its voice in his head clear as day. The pokemon did not sound angry, only agitated.

He finally found his voice. "My name is-"

Your identity is irrelevant. Why are you here?

"I… I came to see if the legends about you were true."

Liar. You came to capture me in your little ball. A wasted effort. It would take far more than one of your miserable little pokeballs to catch me.

It stepped down from the broken tube.

Still, your audacity in thinking a being like you could ever control a being like me is… amusing. There was no humor its "voice". It has been a long time since I have laid eyes on a human. I had almost forgotten how highly your kind places itself.

Memories came up unbidden in the trainer's mind: his ninth birthday, the first pokemon he had ever caught, the first woman he had ever been with. The creature was pulling out images of everything he had ever done, ever experienced. He felt strangely violated.

Interesting. I have been here for far too long. Where are all the cities? All the technology you humans were so proud of?

The trainer began to see memories of lives he had never known. Giant buildings rose up into the sky, larger than anything he had ever seen, seeming almost to touch the clouds. People dressed in fashions completely foreign to him walked the streets. Strange metal carriages rolled along with no pokemon to pull them. It was like an alien world.

"What is this I'm seeing?" The trainer asked.

The skeletal pokemon ignored him.

The world of my former master is no more. Intriguing. They must have been destroyed long ago for this human to have no knowledge of that world. I seem to have been here even longer than I had anticipated. It turned its eyes once more on the helpless trainer. You have heard of me, which means the memory of me has remained long after the destruction of the old world.

Scyther's old pokeball floated slowly into the air. The ancient pokemon reached out and touched it.

Very well. I will deign to reside in this flimsy device until the appropriate time. I have much work to do, and you will be my servant. Serve me well and you will be rewarded. Fail me, and death will be a welcome respite from the punishment you will receive. You and your pokemon will be the instruments of my will until I no longer need to be hidden.

The creature vanished into the red and white ball. It's central button lighting up for a few brief seconds before dimming.

The trainer picked up the ball. He didn't know how he did it, but he had caught the legendary pokemon. He tried to remember the last few minutes, but could recall nothing past the point of his Scyther exploding.

No matter. With his new acquisition, he no longer needed Scyther anyway.

He turned around and tried to find his way out of the underground labyrinth. It was strange. In all the tales he had ever heard of the ancient creature no actual name had ever been mentioned, but as he made his way above ground, a single name was burned into the surface of his mind; a name that he for some reason knew for a fact was the name of the beast.

Mewtwo.
For the maybe five of you who actually read my things, you may be aware that several months ago, I posted a story called Ghost of the Old Empire part 1, promising that new installments would be out.
It turns out I am a dreadful liar.
The Desmond story is always changing on me, making it impossible to write anything because everytime I get even halfway through a single piece, I realize that it won't fit the story.
So I've decided to throw my hat into the fanfiction ring for the first time. This is the very first foray into that genre have ever tried, apart from a failed Halo story I gave up on by the third page. I assumed many of you have all read enough bad fanafics to be able to spot a good one. Please tell me which catagory this one falls in.
End Note: Mewtwo's lines are supposed to be in italics, but the font changes didn't translate over when I put the story on deviantart. How do I fix that?
© 2011 - 2024 AnEnemySpy
Comments11
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SecretTacoNinja's avatar
I think you have to go through the whole thing and put little markups in front of all the places you want Italics. Sorry I don't know how to do that, it might be less annoying and less time consuming if you just use speech marks. I know I had trouble when I tried to submit something. >_<

The only thing that bothered me is the its/it's thing. "It's" means "it is" or "it has" and "its" means belonging to "it" if you get me.

Other than that... it's good, keep it up. :3