Mewtwo's Story: Prologue
A/N: I'm trying another two stories at a time again. If I do badly on this story, I'll erase it and rewrite when I'm done with the story I'm doing now. Please review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, just my story.
~*~
~Mewtwo's POV~
My breath comes out in a rasp, going slower and with each painful breath.
Death.
Sure, I've seen the death of hundreds of humans in my life, in fact, that's how I started my life, killing the very people who created me.
I have even thought of the way I would die.
I never thought I would die like this...
in the hands of my most hated, and yet feared enemy.
Giovanni.
Even now he stands over me, cackling insanely, holding the still-smoking gun that he just shot me with.
He tells me that I'm one of a kind.
That, as his creator, I have to obey every word he said.
I have always defied him.
Hated him everything that he stood for.
And at the end...
This is what leads to my death.
It's strange...
it's strange how my creator is the one who kills me.
I have yet to understand who I am,
and why I was made.
Now,
now I'll never find out.
Not even the child who showed me not everyone is cold-hearted can save me now.
I wonder if the Mew that has been my companion since I started looking for a new purpose in life will know of my death.
My breath is getting shallower, and I know that these are my last dying breaths.
As I close my eyes, knowing that I will never open them again,
my life comes back to me...
~*~
~Flashback~
~General POV~
The slicing of a machete is heard, shattering the eerie silence of the jungle.
Usually, there's a least Pidgey's and Spearows, and their evolutions during the day that keep the silence never this long, and at night, the Spinark and Hoothoot with their evolutions fill the silence of the night.
All of them seemed frightened by Their presence.
They saw humans before, there are many natives who walk through the area every day, but none of them were like this.
Maybe they felt the evil, the greed, and the insanity that drives them to go all across the world to find something that will create the world's most powerful pokemon.
Maybe they sensed the death of the amount of pokemon that have died in their hands as they try for this single-minded goal.
Only one pokemon was bold enough to follow and stay close to them.
Or maybe stupid enough, one can never tell.
It's a curious sort, always innocent, as if it's a three-year old who never grew up.
It never battles; it would rather play and defend itself than to cause any living harm to a creature.
It is ironic that its very clone is the exact opposite.
It flitted in the shadows, a good distance across from the scientists, too absorbed in their search for the strand of D.N.A. that might survive the cloning process.
Not knowing the exact thing that they're looking for is following them.
They find the temple, and they saw a carving of a pokemon that has long thought to be extinct on the wall.
Nobody will know for years that there is a myth in that belief.
A curious pink head peered in the window, looking at the carving of itself in a curious fascination.
It sensed the scientists turning, using psychic powers that are unmatched.
Until several years from now.
It flitted away, and the scientist only blinked before turning his eye back to the strand, the one that they've been searching for.
This single-mindedness might've been the end of them.
~*~
~End Flashback~
~Mewtwo's POV~
I weakly shake my head, trying to clear the memories that aren't mine.
Maybe they are, I will never know now.
My breath is almost gone; I can hear the dying beats of my heart.
This is my story.
I know that this will never be heard, but maybe I will understand now...
who I am.
And why my actions are justified.
This is my story.
TBC...
~*~
A/N: I know there was an abrupt change in the middle, but it needed to be covered in the story, and the next chapter is going to be Mewtwo's story. First chapter up in a week, until then, please review.
A/N: I'm trying another two stories at a time again. If I do badly on this story, I'll erase it and rewrite when I'm done with the story I'm doing now. Please review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, just my story.
~*~
~Mewtwo's POV~
My breath comes out in a rasp, going slower and with each painful breath.
Death.
Sure, I've seen the death of hundreds of humans in my life, in fact, that's how I started my life, killing the very people who created me.
I have even thought of the way I would die.
I never thought I would die like this...
in the hands of my most hated, and yet feared enemy.
Giovanni.
Even now he stands over me, cackling insanely, holding the still-smoking gun that he just shot me with.
He tells me that I'm one of a kind.
That, as his creator, I have to obey every word he said.
I have always defied him.
Hated him everything that he stood for.
And at the end...
This is what leads to my death.
It's strange...
it's strange how my creator is the one who kills me.
I have yet to understand who I am,
and why I was made.
Now,
now I'll never find out.
Not even the child who showed me not everyone is cold-hearted can save me now.
I wonder if the Mew that has been my companion since I started looking for a new purpose in life will know of my death.
My breath is getting shallower, and I know that these are my last dying breaths.
As I close my eyes, knowing that I will never open them again,
my life comes back to me...
~*~
~Flashback~
~General POV~
The slicing of a machete is heard, shattering the eerie silence of the jungle.
Usually, there's a least Pidgey's and Spearows, and their evolutions during the day that keep the silence never this long, and at night, the Spinark and Hoothoot with their evolutions fill the silence of the night.
All of them seemed frightened by Their presence.
They saw humans before, there are many natives who walk through the area every day, but none of them were like this.
Maybe they felt the evil, the greed, and the insanity that drives them to go all across the world to find something that will create the world's most powerful pokemon.
Maybe they sensed the death of the amount of pokemon that have died in their hands as they try for this single-minded goal.
Only one pokemon was bold enough to follow and stay close to them.
Or maybe stupid enough, one can never tell.
It's a curious sort, always innocent, as if it's a three-year old who never grew up.
It never battles; it would rather play and defend itself than to cause any living harm to a creature.
It is ironic that its very clone is the exact opposite.
It flitted in the shadows, a good distance across from the scientists, too absorbed in their search for the strand of D.N.A. that might survive the cloning process.
Not knowing the exact thing that they're looking for is following them.
They find the temple, and they saw a carving of a pokemon that has long thought to be extinct on the wall.
Nobody will know for years that there is a myth in that belief.
A curious pink head peered in the window, looking at the carving of itself in a curious fascination.
It sensed the scientists turning, using psychic powers that are unmatched.
Until several years from now.
It flitted away, and the scientist only blinked before turning his eye back to the strand, the one that they've been searching for.
This single-mindedness might've been the end of them.
~*~
~End Flashback~
~Mewtwo's POV~
I weakly shake my head, trying to clear the memories that aren't mine.
Maybe they are, I will never know now.
My breath is almost gone; I can hear the dying beats of my heart.
This is my story.
I know that this will never be heard, but maybe I will understand now...
who I am.
And why my actions are justified.
This is my story.
TBC...
~*~
A/N: I know there was an abrupt change in the middle, but it needed to be covered in the story, and the next chapter is going to be Mewtwo's story. First chapter up in a week, until then, please review.