Hey, everyone! This is my first story. Please let me know what you think.
I took a slightly more serious tone with it, but all of the source material is the same.
I don't own anything. All rights belong to Pokemon.
A feint creak rang from down the hallway, followed by shuffled footsteps quick, heavy and coming closer. Carver's body was pressed tight in the corner of his cell. He lifted his head at the sound. There was something different about them. They sounded too rushed and anxious to be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, which had been his only chance for human contact in the past several months.
A frantic sniffing came at the bars of his cell. Carver crawled toward them, his eyes squinting to make out the beast that waited outside. A burst of flame erupted from its throat sending Carver scuttling back to his corner.
One by one the lights of the building turned on. It can't be morning already. Carver could now make out the unwieldy red Growlithe beyond the bars. Its loud panting broken up periodically by low growls.
Finally Officer Jenny walked up beside it, petting its head. Growlithe sat down beside her. "You need to sleep in your bed, not on the floor."
"Silly me, I forgot it was even there."
Jenny shook her head, unamused.
"Is that all you needed?" Carver slid down back into his corner, "Thank you for the lesson. I'll never forget your pointers on how to sleep in prison. Surely, years from now I'll be telling my prisoner grandchildren about the wonderful-"
"Stop it now," Growlithe leapt back to his feet at the mere raise of his master's voice.
Carver ignored the dog's barred teeth. He walked again to the front of his cell, peering down at Officer Jenny with his cold grey eyes, "Fine, then do you care to tell me why I was woken up in the middle of the night?"
The officer held her ground. She met him with her own unwavering soft brown eyes, but behind them Carver sensed fear and uncertainty. "Do you ever hope to reach parole?" She asked.
Carver pressed his hands and face against the cold metal bars, bending down to get eye-to-eye level with Officer Jenny, "Say what you came to say."
"I need your help."
"Amusing, but there isn't much I can do now, is there? Ghastly is dead."
"All for the better,"
He was close enough to reach out and grab her by the throat, but the lean muscle of his long arms had withered away in his months spent here. Growlithe could set his entire body aflame before he choked the life from her, and Carver's body bared too many scars from the last time they met, "I scratch your back; you scratch mine?"
"One year cut off your sentence. No more no less."
He almost commented how cute she looked playing Mr. Tough Guy. Demoralizing and belittling her had been one of his few entertainments in this place. This time, though, he held his tongue. Her proposition could cut his sentence in half, "I'll play your little game." He reached his hands through the bars.
Jenny cuffed them before unlocking the door to his cell. She motioned for Carver to walk in front of her. Growlithe followed forcefully at his heels, "We better hurry," she said, "I'll explain on the way."