AN : Boy, this is going to be a story like no other. Why is that you ask? Because four people are writing it. My self, pikachuhunter1, Lady of DarkFire, and Lightning-Alchemist-Rini (in this order) are each going to take turns writing a chapter of this story. Where is it going? I dunno, we'll figure that out later. Just enjoy, it'll be a good story.
John : Wake Up
Their is no reason why. No reason that five people can rise up together, especialy when they don't know each other. Their is no reason that these five were selected, no unearthly entity selecting them. They were thrown together purely by fate, to stop an evil that they couldn't comprehend. Whether or not they will succeed, remains to be seen.
He was dreaming, that was all he had done for the last four months. Dreams that came infrequently, and fragmented at first. As time had gone on though, his dreams had began to add up to something. Not a whole something mind you, but definitely something.
He could see the woman, like she had appeared before. Tall, with shoulder length hair, platinum blond. Her face was plane, pale white, and showed no emotion. She never showed emotion. The only color on her face were her lips, which were a slash of ruby red. He couldn't see her eyes, due to the sunglasses she wore at all times (even indoors). He knew she had some kind of condition that caused her to wear the glasses, but in very little light, they made her head resemble a skull.
She always dressed in black, even more making her look like a grim reaper. Black gloves, black ankle length coat, black boots, large black hat, black sweater and black skirt under the coat. Standing beside her was a Mightyena, who kept growling at him. In her left hand was a small gun, aimed at his head.
He called her the Mute Blonde, because she never spoke. He suspected she couldn't speak, but he couldn't prove this. In his dream, he begged for his life, pleaded to be spared. The woman ignored him though, as she pulled the trigger. He watched the gun go off. He had seen this in his partial dream, many times before. This time, something was different.
He felt the bullet hit him in the skull.
He felt himself hit ground from the force of the gun, and then.
He felt himself wake up.
At first he couldn't see anything, his eyes were to blurry. He tried to lift his arms, to rub his eyes, but they were to heavy, and he ended up smacking himself on the stomach. Alright, that takes to much effort. He strained his eyes, to see the blurry out line of his hand. Try twitching your finger. Slowly, he twitched his index finger, possibly the most difficult thing he had ever done.
After several minutes, his eyes had finally adjusted. The lights in his room were completely out. The only light he could see were coming from the open door way to his room. By now, he could twitch his fingers, and clench his fist, any thing else was to complicated. It didn't matter what he could do, his brain was desperately trying to process what was going on.
He was on his back, in a room. It had no decoration what so ever, and the lack of furniture outlines pointed to a hospital room. Another thing supporting this theory was a curtain to the right side of his bed, and a couple of machines to the left. His bed had sheets, a blanket, and a pillow that propped his head up. He could see the outlines of wires come from the machine, so they might have been stuck on his chest, he didn't know. His body felt completely numb.
He didn't know who he was. What his name was, where he was, why the hell he was in the hospital. He only one thing. He had four people to find, and if he didn't soon, they would die. Who were they, didn't know that. Isn't amnesia fun?
Suddenly, he heard something. Footsteps, high-heeled shoes clacking against the ground. A woman, a doctor? No, it was late, had to be a nurse. He had to get her attention, but how? He cracked his dry lips open, but no sound came out. He took a deep breath.
"Help" The nurse poked her head into his room, then walked on. He felt tears streak down the sides of his face. He took another deep breath.
"HELP" He screamed. This got the nurses attention, and she came running back. She rushed into the room (he was amazed by how fast she could move in high-heels) and over to his bed.
"Oh my God, you're awake"
"What is your name?" It was the next morning, and a doctor had come to visit him. He felt so special. It was the next day, and he could now move his arms (not very well), and speak in a gravely tone. The doctor was asking him questions, but the words barely made sense to him.
"I-I don't know" The doctors' had called him John Doe, the name for all people in a coma and with no identification. The doctor wrote something down on his little clip board.
"Do you know what region you're in?"
"No" John said. The doctor wrote something on his clipboard.
"How long have you lived in the Acer region?"
"If I don't know where I am, how would I know that?" John growled. The doctor wrote something.
"No need to get snippy" The doctor said. John growled again. "How old are you?"
"No idea, how old do you think I am" I am a smart ass, John said to him self. The doctor made a few more notes, and clipped his pen back.
"Well, I could ask you more questions but that would be a complete waist of both of our times. You have complete amnesia, no memory what so ever" John sighed. They spent fifteen minutes establishing what he already knew. The doctor mentioned something about physical therapy and blood pressure, but John wasn't paying attention. The doctor turned to leave.
"Stop" John growled. The doctor turned back. "I need to know, how did I get here?"
"Look, I don't know if it's the right time to"
"JUST FREAKING TELL ME!" The doctor sighed.
"They fished you out of a river, four months ago. You had a bullet in your head, which we removed. You lapsed into a coma during surgery, and woke up last night. When you were brought here, you had no identification on you. You had six empty pokeballs, and a news paper clipping. As for your age, we guessed around sixteen to eighteen" John nodded.
"The news paper clipping"
"What about it?"
"Bring it to me" The doctor looked surprised.
"I don't know if"
"BRING IT"
A nurse held the clipping in front of him, but it didn't make any sense. He could read the word, but why was this clipping so freaking important?
The headline read Trainer Tamera tries, loses to elite 4 for third time. It was a story about how this girl was some expert trainer, but she kept loosing against the elite 4. The farthest she had gotten was on her second time, to the second member. The article then went on to mention the girl had once been diagnosed with OCD, but whether or not this was completely accurate remained to be seen.
She's the one John thought, The first one I have to find. Why do I have to find her though? John didn't know, or care. He would find her.
After he got out of this freaking bed.