My name is Krisphinkta Calliopeia. I'm a Luxray, age 20, and what I want most in the world is to never, ever be forgotten. Life isn't fair to anyone; the only people with lives that could be called "good" are royalty. Everyone else was forced to subsist off the land, attacking innocents for food, and turning us all into a pack of… things that couldn't think about the future; only the next meal.

At least we were so focused on that we never started many wars. Wars take too much time, use up precious resources, and give us nothing in the end. We learned that after the second one.

This land is hard to live on; most of this country I live on is barren grassland. The rest consists of mountains and deserts. Too many Pokémon are born, and too few survive. Most of us are abandoned at birth, like I was.

I only survived… by becoming a killer. The first time was when I was 7. I shocked a Rattata too hard… I cried at first, but then realized what it was. It was food. I shouldn't waste it, or the Rattata's life. I would take its life and bring it into mine.

That was the life of so many in that world. There were no friends. I'd had one once. A sweet little Skitty, who was innocent to the world. She didn't know where the meat was coming from. She never asked. We lived together for a mere total of two years…

"Krissy!" She smiled up at me, her crescent moon eyes smiling too. "Welcome home!"

Our 'home' was a cavern in the side of a mountain, deep enough that any predators passing by wouldn't smell us. I was the one that always went out; Lala never did. I didn't let her. I told her it was scary out there. I never told her a lie about what was outside. I lied only about me.

"It's good to be back. I got you some of those pink berries you like; the really sweet ones." She loved them, but I had to make sure that she didn't eat too many.

That was our life. It was calm, and peaceful, and it made me feel horribly dirty. I shouldn't be allowed to be with such an innocent child. Killers and innocents don't mix.

And then everything changed. It was his fault. All his fault. But I didn't know that then.

His name was Faen, and he lived with us for the last six months. That's all I care to remember about him. That, and that he knew where the meat came from. He'd lived out there too. He knew how life out there was, but I didn't want to let someone who was only 5 be forced to kill. I made him promise to never tell Lala, because then she might've refused to and died. He wasn't forced to kill anymore, and he regained his lost innocence.

Until that day.

I came home, and called in, but got no response. I called again. Had something gotten them? I dropped the food I was carrying and ran in, as fast as I could.

Red. It was everywhere, it seeped between my pawpads, and it covered the walls and ceiling, and it covered…

And standing in the middle of it was a smiling Faen, laughing so innocently, his fur dyed a color similar to the walls. And no Lala. Not even a body, or…anything. Just a red room and a red Faen. Nothing else. Nothing at all.

It happens sometimes. The lifestyle of the world gets to be too much of a burden. And… something happens to them… and then… this happens.

I killed my darling Faen. I had to. Or else… I would've been in the same place as Lala… That is to say, everywhere. She was what seeped between my pawpads, and she was what covered the walls and ceiling, and she was what covered Faen.

I had a friend once. Her name was Lala. She was a Skitty, and an innocent to the world.

I had a friend once. She was killed because of this life. And now no one remembers her but me.

So I want it to be so that even if I die, I'll be remembered by lots of people… forever.