It was a relatively normal day in the life of Zachary Proto. Well, as normal as things could get in the slums of Hoenn's Rustboro City, at least. Behind the beautiful façade of the finer parts of the city hid a dark underworld of drug cartels, the local mafia, and other equally crappy things. Zach was a member of this world, and it showed. He was also in high school.
Zach was sixteen years old, although he could pass as somebody twenty-five or older. Of course, he utilized this fact, as it certainly helped in... purchasing... alcohol and drugs. He was ruggedly built, toughened up from all the gang fights he had toiled through over the years. Usually you would see a number of major bruises on his face, some gashes, and the like due to what he had endured.
Obviously, he didn't like living this life. But, it was the only way he could survive. His parents were assassinated by mafia hitmen when they couldn't make payments for the drugs they were receiving in spades. Zach, sadly, was seized as collateral. He had no friends, only people he didn't want to kill. Of course, this isn't the best life to live when you also have to succeed in high school and get your HGED.
Somehow, Zach managed. He wasn't a star student by any means; in fact, he was your average B student. Of course, this was pretty impressive given the circumstances under which Zach lived. Among his gang "friends", he was the smart one, and probably the only reason the others even got by grade-wise.
The alarm rang, a blaring noise that reverberated across the room where the adolescents slept. This, as alarms usually do, indicated that it was time to get up and get ready. Zach, alongside the five or so others, dragged himself off of his cot in a groggy daze. Ugh... Time to do this again... he thought to himself. With a small sigh, he walked over to the makeshift kitchen to make something that could pass as breakfast.
The room was not very big; it was a small room connected to the main "headquarters" of this mafia division by an equally small staircase. As such, there really wasn't sufficient space to completely meet the needs of six pubescent people, so things were severely cramped. As Zach walked over to the corner that housed the ingredients he needed, he bumped into somebody who he didn't like to mess with.
"Hey, you big dumbass, watch where you're going!" Admittedly, those words don't seem so threatening when spoken in such a squeaky voice, but a knife makes things a lot more intense. The boy was only thirteen, and at least a head shorter than Zach. Clearly he had not done much with the mafia, as he still had a childish innocence and a desire to seem tough.
"Shut up, James," Zach snapped back. In his eyes was a look of murderous hatred, which he had learned was much more effective than any threat of violence in getting people to leave you be. James, not expecting such animosity, recoiled and went on with his daily business, though his terror would quickly fade.
The rest of the early part of Zach's day passed by in a blur. One wouldn't think being a member of the mafia would be boring, but when you're too young to be considered autonomous in the eyes of your officials, not much happens. The first few periods of class went by in much the same way. It was fourth period, however, that stuck out in Zach's mind everyday. This was for one reason, and one reason alone - Violet.
In essence, she was the perfect girl. Intelligent, attractive, and kind to everyone. Even specimens of sin like Zach, she would be altruistic towards. As the mind tends to do, Zach misconstrued all of this as her favoring him. Nevertheless, the sight of her would consistently brighten his day.
On this day, Violet was wearing a simple, blue shirt. Nothing flashy or gaudy, but it managed to perfectly accentuate her beautiful brown hair and vivid hazel eyes. She was talking with a few of her friends whose names Zach could not recall, though he knew that two of them began with an I and a C.
Despite her seemingly kind and generous nature, she really only did it because of social obligations, as even the best of us cannot be truly philanthropic. She would only really care about her friends, which Zach was not one of. As such, Violet gave Zach little to no notice.
It was only today that Zach realized the situation. He had always believed that he was somewhat important to her. Zach continued on with his day with the realization that he didn't matter in the slightest to the one he cared about most.
The rest of the day went by with very few abnormal occurrences. It was after this painful cycle, however, that things started becoming a bit... different. Upon leaving the foreboding brick structure, Zach was immediately confronted by a fellow mafia member.
"Yo, Z, you little weasel, how your day been?" That was Phil. Phil, too, had been through a lot, but his demeanor never really changed from the happy-go-lucky kid he used to be.
"Decent," Zach sighed. He wouldn't be bothered to make eye contact; his vacant, distant stare told Phil all he needed to know.
"Don't worry, mah man, you can tell mah anything," Phil drawled. Zach caught the faint whiff of alcohol emanating from his mouth as he spoke.
"I'd rather not."
After that, the two walked back to the base in silence. They left the nice part of town behind, with its massive skyscrapers and beautiful scenery. They knew the best back alleys to take to get from any point to another without venturing too far into gang territories. However, the route from the school to the base had to cross a small amount of an enemy gang's territory.
A gun was promptly pulled on the guys' heads. An adult gangster walked out of a narrow alleyway, murder in his eyes. He wore a black leather jacket with a skull-and-crossbones sloppily taped onto it.
"Youse come to the wrong part of town, punks," the mobster snarled. "We doesn't care what youse are or what youse doin', but as long as youse ain't Koffing Clan youse de enemy."
Phil attempted to don a masquerade of composure and fearlessness. "L-l-look. There... is n-n-no way to get f-f-from where we were to w-w-where we're going without crossing into K-k-koffing Clan territory."
"Do I look like I give a Rattata's ass, you little drunk-ass punk? Lemme show you some of the Pokémon I stole off of bystander's dead bodies. Machop. Zubat. And my Koffing. Take de stage."
He threw three grimy Poké Balls onto the ground. In synchronized bursts of light, three Pokémon appeared. On the left stood Machop, whose body was laced with gashes and bruises. In the middle, Zubat hovered, its left ear all but useless. On the right was a Koffing, who strangely looked completely unhurt.
Zach sighed. "Another incompetent mobster who wins by numbers alone. Deino, let's get this over with." Another flash of light later, a Deino stared down the beat-up opposition. It snarled, knowing that these would be easy kills. He could tell that this guy wasn't a very good shot, either. They wouldn't have to worry about that gun.
Phil shuddered. It was a three-to-one battle, and there was nothing he could do to even the odds. Then, he remembered that he could help. He, too, had a Pokémon. His Poké Ball opened up and revealed a very hearty Magikarp.
The gangster laughed. He had a distinct advantage, ignoring the Magikarp. "Zubat, Confuse Ray dat Deino. Machop, go in for de kill with a Cross Chop. Koffing, suffocate de more comp'tent kid with some Poison Gas."
"Dragon Breath and cover them all with burns!"
"Splash!"
Zubat, having natural agility, was able to quickly fire a beam of mysterious energy at the blind dinosaur. Despite its fur blocking sight of the Confuse Ray, it was still able to take effect. Deino began staggering around randomly, clearly confused.
Deino was able to take advantage of his blurred perception by spraying a violent blue fire everywhere as his head erratically swerved. The flames surged over the others, a cascading inferno of fury. The three opposing Pokémon all were burnt badly.
This was rather counterproductive, as Machop does in fact have the Guts ability. Though the burn would normally weaken physical capabilities, in the bodybuilder's case it strengthened them. He surged forward, his hands glowing with a cross of energy. Machop smashed the energy into the Deino's head, and the victim cried out in agony. Deino could feel the massive head trauma intensify his confusion, and he staggered to the ground, unconscious.
Koffing, as he was ordered to, took a more underhanded route. He did not want to, as he had a code of ethics, but he had to. Billowing to double his original size, he expelled a deadly veil of poisonous gases, smothering Zach. He began to feel faint, as the gas choked the oxygen out of him. Though he tried to stay conscious, anoxia set in and he passed out.
Meanwhile, Magikarp was trying its best to do something to help out, but all it could really do was just Splash around hopelessly. A feeling of defeat fell over the poor Magikarp, and it accepted its ultimate fate.
Phil, seeing that his friend was out cold and his Magikarp was ready for death, darted out of the dim back alley. The nameless gangster was too focused on punishing Zach to care about his escape.
"Koffing, float on over to de guy and his Pokémon's bodies, and explode. We're done with dese dumbasses."
Koffing hesitated. If he were to follow his master's orders and explode, he would inevitably die. He, like most other Pokémon, didn't like dying. On the other hand, if he disobeyed, he'd certainly face a fate worse than death. Weighing his options, he decided to bank on the fact that he'd go to heaven. Koffing dejectedly floated over to Zach's unconscious body and exploded.
The blast engulfed Zach, Deino, and Magikarp. The Pokémon were completely annihilated. Amazingly, Zach still showed signs of life. He would not wake up, and he was mortally wounded, but he was alive. The mobster obviously had no reason to check for signs of life, and the sound of the explosion would alert the authorities. He, too, fled.
After what seemed like ages, Zach woke up in a field of fire. It seemed like it was once a pristine, beautiful meadow, but something had taken control of it and turned it into a violent inferno. The flames had apparently parted around Zach when he entered here, but he had no recollection of how it could have possibly happened.
How did I get here? I thought I was in an alleyway when I was knocked unconscious, Zach thought. He looked around to see if there was anything, any hope of escape from this blaze, but there wasn't. There was only fire.
Suddenly, a line of flame receded to the sides, revealing a charred, burnt path. Zach tried to run across it, innately knowing that beyond it was hope and happiness, but an extreme sense of fear fell upon him. He knew that there was something ominous, something terrifying, just beyond there. He could see a faint, black dot on the horizon. Though he knew it was probably harmless, he was still paralyzed with fear. The black dot drew closer and closer, traveling upon the one sole path.
After some time, Zach could make out the shape of the figure. It was a Darkrai. Zach thought that it would be benevolent, like Darkrai normally is, but then he saw its eyes. They were a maniacal red hue, and gleamed with the liberating sadism of malice.
"Darkrai! Why am I here?" Zach cried out. He was terrified of this monster, but he knew that it was his only way out of this inferno.
"You must be mistaken. I am Somnus." The Darkrai's voice was imposing, but also chaotic. "As for why you are here, it is because this is your new home."
Author's Note: So, that was Chapter 1. A little cliché, but that will quickly fade away. Pokémon will feature more in subsequent chapters for plot reasons. This was a shorter chapter as it was just exposition, but future chapters will be longer and more action-packed. Various things are symbolic, so if you want to interpret them feel free.