A NOTE BEFORE READING THIS DELICIOUS DELICIOUS BS =3
Before you start reading there is something you should know;
ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE. ERRORS, TYPOS EVERYWHERE. Please don't be mean.
I altered the universe a bit. I made it more 'realistic' in crime, life, work, school, battles, parenting and so on. Yes, blood, swearing, beatings and such other shenanigans will happen A LOT – so be prepared. Also, some Pokémon can and will talk during the story. So yay! Not only some of them talk, but some of them sing – like Insomniac. Why you'll find out later, just a heads up what's going to happen ;D
I hope you'll enjoy this silly read!
LET US BEGIN, THE DOOM.
It was a strange night, I could feel there was something wrong, and something is going to happen, but not for a second I had a thought that something would happen to me. I was standing outside, resting my hurting back against a cold, brick wall, with cigarette between my teeth, ready to light it up when a door beside me slammed open and an angry voice yelled out my name.
"You peace of shit!" roared Emmet, sweat pouring down his face. "The fight starts in less than five minutes so get your ass back in there!"
Without looking at him, I kept standing where I was, staring in the starry sky and that bright moon, which seemed to be teasing me. Fate was a stupid thing.
"Listen," he continued trying to keep his voice down, still I could hear hatred hidden in it. "I'm sure tonight you'll get sleep… You'll be tired and all."
I turned my head at him. A short, rich man was standing in front of me, brown hair, brown eyes… He hadn't changed a bit since he captured me. Just from looking at him you could say he was a rich bastard – fancy clothes, a clock proudly shinning on his left hand... Your average gentleman, all he needed was monocle and a top hat. But all his money and fame came from a dirty game which was banned everywhere and yet, he risked it all just because he was too greedy and couldn't stop at one.
"Right." I said and walked towards the door. There was no turning back and I had to face it. My fate was already written upon a contract, given to me back when I thought it all was a game, back when I couldn't even read, back when I didn't knew what pain was. How many years do I have left, three? Or is it four?
"Oh, and I think you should like your opponent today." He commented with a smile, relieved that I complied. Happy to push me into the ring when I can barely open my eyes, fatso? "It's Seventh."
"Whatever." I hissed and went inside, where I got greeted by a roaring crowd waiting for bloodshed to begin. It was silent outside, but inside it was like hell – and felt like one. People accompanied by their loyal pets, the sounds, the screams, gambling and betting… So many of them, nowhere to turn, where you won't see another face… It was so hot in here.
"Now hurry," I felt Emmet's hand on my shoulder, pushing me, forcing me to walk faster. "Maria is already waiting for you." He stopped behind; waiting next to the ring while I marched to the small backstage, followed by cheers and boos at same time. Here, a nervous, pink-haired woman waited for me, who happened to be Emmet's wife, named Maria. She was a lousy doctor.
I once had my leg broken. While trying to patch me up, she managed to break the second one. Don't ask how – this is how horrible she is, but because Emmet is so cheap, he overlooks that fact. I never liked her. I hated when she tried to treat me. Now, I'd rather suffer the pain than let her to relieve it.
"Oh, finally! I thought you ran away; don't ever disappear like that again!" Maria was trying to be angry, yet it didn't sound anything like it. It was as she tried to yell at a puppy. I was more like a teenage son to her by now.
"Do you need me for something because I'm pretty sure the fight was supposed to start already." I looked around, hoping not to see third and most annoying face there was in this 'crew' I had to work with. Thankfully, she was not here.
"Oh yes," Maria nodded, waving with her fingers to me to squat down. "I need to check that wound..."
"It's not even a wound; it's a small scratch that I don't care about." I cut her off. "I'm going." The crowd was becoming restless out there – yelling and roaring got louder, complains and swear-words flew from left to right. They want us to fight, but one out of two is missing.
"So it is all about you?" she yelled at me, unable to find words, as always. I've lost my count how many times she said that to me, so that phrase has lost all meaning long time ago.
"Whatever that means." I yelled back.
I went straight for the ring, followed by angry screams, cans and whatever they could their hands on flying towards me.
"Get in the ring, you motherfucker! I paid for this game!" They waited two minutes, not more. Is your patience that low? When I finally reached the ring, Emmet was standing tall and proud, smiling at the crowd. Apparently Seventh was missing now. We are not the ones to blame.
"He was here just a minute ago." Emmet pulled the cigarette out of my lips, while I was looking around for familiar faces. "You're not going to smoke that here anyway. Do you need your bandages?"
"No." Emmet glared at me. "It's Seventh. He won't be able to do shit."
Patiently, I stood there for few minutes, but then I felt the Weakness come in. I pulled a chair that was standing nearby and sat down, positioning it so I could look at the ring. A simple ring it was, like the ones you see in movies, raised, so everyone could see it, tattered and dirty – just like this world I was locked in. I killed two of my kin there. I did… Horrible things and most importantly – I enjoyed it.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah." I lied. I was unsure how long I sat there, it seemed like an eternity. All the sounds surrounding me became faint and soon there was no sound at all – just zooming in my ears until I saw him at the other side of the ring. The green Gallade with quite a few scars on his body – two of them were proudly done by me. He was known as Seventh, for being seventh in everything. Never less, never more. A fitting name for a loser like him. He was smaller than an average Gallade but that didn't matter, since I was overgrown. His smug face was my wake up call.
"You know him better than anyone else," Emmet gave me a pat on my back. "Give him hell." Don't touch me, fatass. I stepped into the ring as announcer introduced us to the eager crowd. Thought most of them knew us already. The crowd hated me. They loved Seventh. But it never stopped me from kicking his sorry ass in every match. People thought that my height was cheating – I was taller than I should, by a lot and I won't lie – it did gives me more chances in winning. But in the end, it's all either skill or fate.
"Still have no name for yourself?" Seventh sneered at me.
"Better than one like yours."
"Buddy, I heard about your insomnia…How long you haven't slept? Three weeks! I'm going to fuck you up good."
"Bite me."
The second bell went off hailing the start of the fight, Seventh quickly lunged towards me, aiming for my ribs.
I dodged his attack by side-stepping to the left. I knew all his moves – he always starts like this. He's too stubborn to think of strategies, this is why he usually looses. "Hopefully, you make no mistake…"
"Same song again? How original…" he kept thrusting his arms towards me, aiming for my stomach and ribs.
I dodged all incoming blows as gently as I could but soon my speed and strength started to fade – soon I was breathing heavily, unable to concentrate. I tried to punch him but he was too fast. I clenched my teeth as I found difficult to stand and the vision became blurred. The Weakness.
Seventh retreated a bit, holding his hands defensively in front of him. He saw I was barely standing, he could easily hear me gasping for air as my lungs were crying for air, my body longing for rest. That night every bone in my body cursed me.
"What up!" he smiled. Only a prick like him could smile like that. His sadistic eyes were already piercing trough my skin and crushing my bones, clearly he was going to enjoy this. "Out of breath, are we? Does poor Scrafty need a break?"
"If you learn from what you've got to take, good or bad, it's all gonna add up in the end but…" I kept mumbling the song as if could help me. There is no need for rhythm anymore, as I was standing there I knew I lost. An odd feeling I never felt towards Seventh emerged, tearing my logic apart. Fear? FEAR? Towards him? But it was too late; the Weakness caused it and locked me in place, stopping me from thinking clearly. And the panic kicked in.
"Oh, brother, I am going to enjoy this more than I should." Seventh let out a sarcastic laugh. "For all those times you've beaten me… This song was fitting for today; after all, you can never win."
I prepare to defend myself with the energy I have left, my hands shaking. What was going on? I AM NOT THAT WEAK!
Even though I am taller than him, he is still heavier and I know what awaits me – endless beating. He jumps towards me and lands just beside me, and then kicks me in the stomach. I don't even have time to react - I fall on the floor, gasping for air. I can feel the bitter taste of blood in my mouth. He hits me again and again and again, kicking me in the face until I lay on my back. The crowd roars. Finally that overgrown piece of shit got what it deserves, eh?..
"I… give up…" I cough out words with blood. I forget – there is no judge in this game, there is no running away from the fight once it begins, its only two fighters and one timer to destroy each other. He mocks me, standing all tall over my body, his hands covered in my blood. Blood? My protective scales can't be broken yet… While he's busy getting cheered at I touch my stomach just to feel an unpleasant warm liquid covering it. I try to sit up, but everything feels numb.
For one second a though occurs – he is done. He'll let me go because he will always need a rival – and I'm it, but then he whispers:
"I hate you." That instant, he jumps on top of me, his hands like thousands swords hit me in the ribs, stomach, my neck and face. I try to grab him, push him over, get rid of him but I my hands feel weak. With my left hand I try to protect myself just to hear unpleasant cracks – thousands of them. With my remaining strength, I kick him in his stomach but he's too fast for me, like all Gallades, he is back again, getting his revenge, his eyes red and full of scorn. I can't hold it in anymore – I scream in pain and with my scream the bell rings.
The bell! The bell announced that the time ran out and the fight was over. The winner was obvious and he was supposed to stop. But he didn't. Why would he? It was his moment. Guards rushed him and tried to pull him off me.
"LET ME GO!" he screeched. "THAT PIECE OF SHIT DESERVES TO DIE!" The crowd roared in agreement.
While he was still held in front of me, I raised my shivering right hand and showed him the middle finger, which was probably broken, because I could feel it anyway. With blood pouring from my mouth along with some missing teeth I responded.
"Not… Today."
And then – all black. The Weakness released me and I chose to close my eyes.