Desperate Murderer

Chapter 1 (Invitation)

This is just the first chapter. THERE ARE MORE CHAPTERS (this story is finished already) I understand that the interface of Fanfiction is terrible, so please scroll upwards after you have finished reading this chapter to search for the other chapters. Thanks :D

By the way, there is a change to the title (because putting The Fantasy Games makes search results display Final Fantasy stories instead)

(Narrator)

There are always sadistic beings everywhere. Those who delight in others writhing in agony and experience ecstasy in the tribulations of others. Even in normal human beings, there is always that slight tinge of sadism. It's part of our nature. It's inevitable.

Admit it, if you ever use a stall team in Pokemon battles, (Toxic Protect Recover sets), you always have that malicious grin whenever your opponent fails to damage your Pokemon. Your Blissey's pink blobs of fat make special moves like Thunderbolt non-existent. Even the injury sustained from more powerful attacks like Draco Meteor gets washed away with the gradual Leftovers recovery. To add salt to wounds, you administer Toxic to the opponent's Pokemon, setting them on a death timer as their vitality gets drained from the increasing toxic power.

Fed up with their inability to deal with Blissey, your opponent sends out a powerful Fighting-type Pokemon, determined to punish Blissey to the nether world. And behold, you switch to your equally-annoying Skarmory, sponging Sky Uppercuts with ease. And you use the same Toxic move to wear down your foes, slowly but surely. As you imagine your opponents wincing with frustration, you can't help but burst out laughing, especially after your Skarmory uses Roost, healing to full health while your opponent's Pokemon succumbs to the deadly toxins. You might need to re-examine your self perceived righteousness.

But it isn't unique to humans either. Many species of Pokémon can enjoy the pain of other Pokémon and humans. Hypno, which sedate and feast on the dreams of others. Murkrow purposefully lead weary travellers to their demise on mountain trails. Misdreavus likes to bite unaware people, purely to see the fright they receive. Cacturnes bide their time in the desert, eagerly waiting for human travellers to tire before pouncing on the defenceless victims.

Our story leads us to what can only be considered the epitome of sadism. In a charcoal black castle on the side of a mountain, removed from the clutches of civilization, lives Mewtwo. Since his infancy, Mewtwo was fascinated by pain and suffering. He started to take delight in torturing other Pokémon, experimenting and finding new ways to make them cry out in anguish. As time went on, other Pokémon grew to fear and loathe him, and so he took solace in the mountains and bided his time, plotting longer and more despicable acts.

But eventually, not even this was enough, and Mewtwo grew bored of his torture. Screams of pain weren't enough. Executions would muster less than a smirk. He couldn't understand why - why all the fun would just fade and wear off, gone forever perhaps? Were there really no new heights to reach, no new torture methods to indulge in? Had everything been done? Feeling frustrated at the absurdity of this situation. Mewtwo sought the help of Darkrai to aid him into his quest for eternal pleasure.

Darkrai, like most others, despised Mewtwo. But he would never say or do anything to stop him. Not only was Mewtwo sick and disturbed, but he was also seriously powerful. So if Darkrai starts his hostility, Mewtwo would just destroy him with an Aura Sphere. Nevertheless, Mewtwo knew it wasn't too wise to get on Darkrai's nerves. If Darkrai caught him off guard with a swift Dark Pulse, the game was over. So both of them just kept each other at arm's length, pretending to be friendly to one another.

"Hi Darkrai, still creating nightmares? You shouldn't be so mean," Mewtwo said as he teleported beside the Pitch-Black Pokemon.

"Says the hypocrite who tortures Pokemon in real life," Darkrai replied curtly. "What do you want?"

"I want to know how to acquire pleasure from sadistic acts," Mewtwo said.

"I should be asking you that, you sadist fiend," Darkrai retorted, his brilliant blue eyes flashing angrily.

"But for some reason, the things that I do to Pokemon seem to stop giving me the fun that I desire," Mewtwo sighed. "Do you have any new ideas?"

"No. Even if I have any, I won't tell you." Darkrai replied sharply. Darkrai's ghostly white plume quivered, indicating his fury.

"I hope I don't have to resort to violent means." Mewtwo threatened an azure Aura Sphere forming in his hands.

Darkrai's eyes widened. He was too proud to admit it, but he was actually afraid of Mewtwo. He had witnessed the sheer power of Mewtwo when he saw Mewtwo's Psystrike kill an Umbreon in one single attack. Mewtwo was so powerful that his Psychic moves have a significant chance of cutting through dark armour, something that ordinary Psychic-types can only dream about. One Aura Sphere was definitely more than enough to send Darkrai to his grave. Darkrai racked his brain frantically. He needed something to appease Mewtwo.

Finally, he told Mewtwo his idea. Mewtwo smiled, and nodded his head in complete approval. "This would be so interesting." Mewtwo cackled incessantly before erupting into a cacophony of guffaws. "I would call this The Annual Fantasy Games!"

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(5 years later…)

As he licked his lips at the successes of his past Fantasy Games, he took out his Pokedex, and pressed the Random Pokemon Generator button. He needed several Pokemon for this year's event. "Ring!" The Pokemon were chosen. "Let the Games begin." Mewtwo cheered to himself.

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(Slowking's Point of View [POV])

The blazing sun shone into every nook and cranny of my untidy room, revealing all the dust that I have yet to clean. The rays seeped into my bleary eyes, forcing me awake. I yawned. Another boring day. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am a Slowking, one of the laziest pokemon on this planet.

I was about to return to my slumber when a loud knock on the door shook me awake. What? Who on earth visits Pokemon early in the morning? I grunted : "Go away, I don't want to see you." I lay on my bed, trying my best to return to dreamland.

That pesky visitor was persistent. Another few knocks rapped on my door. Gosh, it seems that I have to shoo him away personally.

I struggled to get out of my bed (or as I would like to call it, my throne), which was typical of me on a lazy Sunday morning. Sighing, I eventually forced myself out of bed and trudged to the door. Opening the door, I grumbled : "Who are you? Why are you here so early in the morning? Yawn, go away. If you want to promote some useless object just give me the flyer and get lost."

"Hello Slowking! My name is Mr. Mime and I am the messenger of the great Mewtwo. Mewtwo has invited you to join a fun party at " The Fantasy"! Come along now, do not be late. The Houndooms are waiting outside your home to escort you to the place." the purple puppet-like creature squeaked cheerfully.

"Wait... what... what sort of place is that? Why do you give me such a late notice?" I stammered. Out of all things I thought would happen, this was the last thing on my mind. How does one say "invited", then goes on to say "come along now"? NOW. Who ever gives invitations at such a late notice?"

"Well, Mewtwo needed a few more guests. The more the merrier. Hey, why are you still dawdling? It's a party you know! A party! Aren't you interested?" Mr. Mime cajoled with enthusiasm.

I rolled my eyes. Boring! Seriously, of all Pokemon, ranging from active Aipoms to zippy Zangooses, stupid Mr. Mime has to waste his invitation card on me. Why would I want to waste my time going to a party where I would just doze off?

"Err.. sorry Mr Mime I cannot attend the party today as I am very busy. " With that, I slammed the door shut... only to find the door swing open. Mr Mime had used his telekinetic powers to hold the door open.

His cheerful grin turned into a malicious frown as he snapped his fingers. The Houndooms outside turned around and pounced towards me. "Gruff!" they barked ferociously. It appeared that this strange Mr. Mime would not accept no for an answer. I knew I had to attack. This party was definitely more dubious than it seemed. Who would ever drag someone to a party if the party was all about having fun and games? I tried to use a Scald attack but the Houndooms were prepared. Two Sucker Punches were all that were needed to send me into darkness...

But I didn't die. I awoke soon after in a dark van. The van that would take me to my doom.

Author's Note : Please leave some reviews and suggestions! I am new to fanfiction so please do not flame. Thank you

Also, when I mean that Mewtwo's psychic attacks can penetrate Dark immunity, I mean that only some Pokemon would be affected by it. In other words, out of 100 Dark typed Pokemon, 40 of them would be afflicted by Mewtwo's Psystrike. I do not mean that out of 10 Psystrikes, four would affect any Dark typed Pokemon. (that would be overpowered)

BY THE WAY, THIS IS NOT THE ONLY CHAPTER! THERE ARE 15 MORE CHAPTERS FOR THIS STORY. THANKS!