So...basically, my first oneshot! If you liked this, then check out my other story, 'Nothing is Perfect'. Review please, flames are my friends.

For those who have read my other story (which is K+), I'm warning you that there is swearing in this one, so...yeah.


Prologue

Ghetsis watched the scientists as they finished their presentation.

"...in summary, this virus will act as a normal virus, and hijack a body's cells to constantly produce more and more copies of itself with changed DNA. However, the virus' actual RNA has been modified by us, and so the subject will be transformed into a random pokemon, depending on several nearly random statistics within the victim's DNA.

To spread this virus, we have electroplated every virus particle, so that it cannot hijack and reproduce. As we speak, several billion viruses are being manufactured, and we plan to introduce them into the food supplies of the general public within three days. We will continue to contaminate the food supplies of some of the most commonly consumed products." The scientist bought up a list.

"This list of 10 objects are the food items we will be targeting. Wheat crops, rice crops, lettuce, milk, coffee, tea, potatoes, apples, beer and wine. Water is not targeted because there is too much of it, and we don't have the resources to contaminate it to a point where it becomes efficient to do so. This will be done by teams of grunts sent to all the regions, who will individually infiltrate and contaminate the food supplies in the manufacturing plants."

"The antidote is another virus, that we have electroplated with gold, which only Team Plasma members will receive. Even though an entire syringe is provided, generally, only half is required for the virus to work. The extra half of the syringe is meant for safety, if your body resists the antidote virus. This virus will work from the brain of the subject. From there, it protect and cleans out the brain before using DNA from the person's brain to transform them back into a human. It has an added side effect of curing any mental illnesses that are present at the time."

"When we have deemed that a statistically large enough amount of the world, 99.9999%, in our case, has been infected, our satellites can then broadcast a high frequency gamma wave which is strong enough to shatter the casings of both viruses, allowing them to go to work."

"As an estimate, it will take roughly a year of deployment before we can be sure that most, if not all, of the world is infected. The virus takes 1 hour to fully infect and change the human, during which he/she will be forced to sleep through the process." The scientist finished his review.

Ghetsis stood up and shook the scientist's hand. "Thank you for your briefing. We shall continue with our project. Humans and pokemon will be separated...with us in power."


I had a good haul of newspapers today. That meant a good night's sleep under the benches in central park near the manufacturing district. Trying to crumple them into each other so they wouldn't fall apart, I huddled under the newspapers and the park bench whilst shooing a rattata away.

I hated this world. I had never been given a chance, not one with which to prove myself. And last year, last year...

They took her away from me.

The next day, I took to the streets, hoping to get enough money for another shot of chafe, the newest drug in the markets at the time. I loved the stuff. It let you forget about everything the world had done to you, and at the same time, made you feel superhuman. The only downside were the lows. After the high, you felt like crap. You were tired, sore all over and nauseous all the time. And I had a problem. Every time I took chafe, my highs were less amazing, and the lows were worse. But I just took more chafe, trying to re-emulate my first experience with the drug.

It requires a certain type of person to beg for money. A beggar has to have no dignity left, to be able to live off the generosity of other people, but also to not be desperate enough, or agressive enough to resort to crime. I was one of them, but I could feel my will draining. The financial pressure that chafe was applying on me was rubbing off.

At the end of another day, I checked my bowl. 47 dollars. I used to be happy with that sum, but now I stared at the paltry sum in my bowl with disgust.

"Fuck. Not enough for even one small hit. What's with people being so selfish today. Can't even spare a fucking dollar for me."

I began my search for newspapers to end the night in.


I was racked with grief. Ever since they took my only friend away from me, I had been struggling to cope. She left a huge gaping hole with her disappearance. When she left, my only confidant, and guide through life disappeared. She was always optimistic, but when she left, my hope left with her. Struggling to survive day by day, I was sitting down, with a bowl out, when a small satchel dropped into my bowl.

"This'll make you feel better. When you want more, ask round for Slasher." The voice made me look up, but the figure was already hurrying away.

I opened the satchel, and tried it.

Was this it? The point of no return?


It had been several days since my last fix. The next few days had been leaner, and I still had less than 150 dollars, which was what I needed for my next purchase. I could settle with less, but that was like giving a ravenous lion a cube of meat. The lion gets hungrier.

I was starting to get the shivers, the first sign of withdrawal, and was also having trouble sleeping.

As I sat there, waiting with my bowl, I saw a man hurry out the back door of one of the factories, and pull out a box. By now, I was desperate, and that guy looked as though he had something. I didn't care what it was, I needed my fix now. I sneaked up behind him as he opened the box to reveal the syringe. Whatever that was, the syringe and box looked expensive, which meant that whatever was in it was too expensive for me to buy. I took the only other option. Casting around for a stick, I found a broken half brick on the ground. Grabbing the half-brick, I continued sneaking up behind him as he unwrapped the syringe.

"Ahh...everything's going to be all right now...I'm saf-" I cut him off with my half-brick smashing into the back of his head. Grabbing the syringe from his twitching fingers, I pulled back the tattered sleeves on my upper arm and jabbed the needle in. I only used half of the syringe, seeing as I reckoned I could save the other half for a rainy day.


I sat on my park bench. Two weeks after they had taken her away from me. Two weeks. I couldn't stop crying.

I didn't know what to do.

I didn't know what to do.

Was this it? What now?


That night, a big battle between Conway and Paul was taking place, and not wanting to miss out, I headed over to the nearest pub to have a look after using my money to get some dinner and breakfast for tomorrow. As I entered the pub, something was off. The television was off, and I strode over to the counter and asked why.

"Because it's not working! It turned off just about 10 minutes ago!" The bartender yawned. "Hey, we don't serve beggars here! You're not even 18 anyway! Go away!"

After being chased off, I headed over to a pokemon centre, hoping that at least their television might show the battle. However, when I entered, their TV was also broken. I couldn't be bothered to try another place, and I was feeling really tired.

"That shot I took from that man didn't seem to be anything...Damn, I'm tired..."

Barely pausing to scrounge up some newspapers, I collapsed under my bench and fell asleep.


I stood over her, the woman who had looked after me.

She was dead now. Taken by the winter nights...Those fucking auditors and their licence checks...of course we didn't have a shop licence, but how serious was selling matches? A whole world of fucking injustice, and they come and pick on the bottom of the food chain. She had been sick, but we'd earnt just enough money to get medicine, until they stole our lifeline away. It took her 3 days to die, whilst all I could do was light our matches to keep her warm.

As the last match flickered out, I saw her eyes glaze over. An inhuman scream rang out, and it took me a while to realise who it was coming from.

Me. I let her die, her final resting place a bed of matches.


Waking up, I felt better than ever, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I was feeling much better than the day before...that stuff in the syringe must have been pretty powerful...

Sighing, I grabbed my breakfast, which lay tucked beside me and started eating it as I watched the sun rise and the starly flit from tree to tree.

Then I heard the screams.


"I'm sorry, but if we catch you selling matches or other material without a shop licence, we will be forced to jail you. The minimum sentence is 2 years. Think abou-"

"You leave us the FUCK alone!" I yelled as I pushed the suited man away from our makeshift stand. She was too weak to stand, as the pneumonia was getting worse, and we still needed some money to buy her the medicine. The money that we had saved up...all gone.

"I'm sorry son, but the law's the law." The man turned away,

"We don't have the money to buy a shop licence, and how else are we going to get one!" I yelled at his retreating figure. Was this it? Were our lives doomed?


I dashed out into the main streets of the city. Instead of the usual hustle and bustle I expected, I got nothing.

The main streets were deserted. There were a few cars, but they had either crashed into the sidewalk or stopped at a crazy angle across the road, like their drivers had suddenly died. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I saw a man cautiously look out his door and see me. I ran over to him.

"Hey, where is everyone?" I asked. His response was not something I was entirely prepared for.

"Are you human?" I started. "What kind of fucked up person are you?"

"No, I'm a fucking ditto and I transformed last night, which is why you're talking to me now." I replied sarcastically.

"Really? So everyone's a pokemon now? Not just me?" "What? Are you screwed over in the head? You're taking me seriously?"

"Erm...no...I was joking. I'm a human, look." I waved my hand in front of his face, which immediately drooped.

"Oh, because, I was a human, until today morning...when I woke up like..." I stared in horror as his face seemed to melt and his entire body shrunk, becoming smaller and smaller, and pinker... "Like this. A ditto."

"Cyndaquil!" The shout caused me to look behind me, where a cyndaquil had poked her (or his, I really couldn't care less) out of the door, quickly followed by the motliest assortment of pokemon I had ever seen, all with looks of fear on their faces. At that moment, all the other doors opened.

I had never seen such a fucked up scene in my life. I clutched my head and apologised to the ditto. "Sorry, I've got to go...err..."

I ran off.

"That drug I took yesterday must have been really good, but these hallucinations seem too real...Ahh...I'll just sleep it off."


"Matches for sale! A dollar a box! A dollar a box!" She was shouting, trying to sell our boxes as we sat in the cool autumn weather. Although we didn't have a home, we wern't too badly off. We had started amassing a reasonably large sum of money (nearly a thousand dollars) and were planning to try and get one of the small apartments near the manufacturing district, which cost about twenty thousand. We figured that after another year of selling, we'd have the money to buy that apartment.

She sneezed.


I woke up again, to find an enormous crowd of pokemon gathered in front of me. "Wha!" I shouted, shocked into alertness The ditto transformed into a man and spoke to me.

"Son, we need you. We've just checked, and it's all around the world. Team Plasma, a group from Unova have turned everyone but themselves...and you...into pokemon. We need you to try and save us. Please!" he clasped his hands together as all the other pokemon did as well. So, he thought I'd become some sort of savior for them?

"Fuck you." The amazement and shock that resulted from his words was tangible as a wave that rippled outwards from the centre of where he was standing.

"Fuck...you, and fuck this world. I've been fucking mistreated for the fifteen years of my entire fucking life, forced on the streets when I was seven years old, and do you even care! Do you? No!" I pulled the syringe out of my pocket. This may have been how I survived. All I know is that I injected this into myself after knocking someone else out for my fix, because you were too selfish to donate to us. You thought you had problems? Let's see how you enjoy this one. Take the syringe...for all I know, it's your only hope, and you know what? I couldn't give a flying fuck about your chances." I chucked the syringe at the ditto, who caught it, and started pushing through the crowd.

At once, every pokemon piled onto the ditto, desperate for their last chance to become human again. I glanced back behind my shoulder to witness the carnage. "Selfish bastards..."

I didn't see the syringe break, spill it's precious payload all over the grass.

No one did. But it didn't matter now.

Nothing did.


"Hey, you know, I've been thinking about the future..." She said whilst packing matches into her boxes. I was interested. She was always the one with the ideas.

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking, we could eat a little less, and save up for an apartment, you know, so we have somewhere to live? I don't want to live through the rest of my winters outside. It's dangerous, and I don't know how long we can risk it."

"Meh, how dangerous can it be? We've helped each other for the past seven and a half years years...what could go wrong?"


I ran. Found myself a secluded house in the middle of nowhere, its inhabitants long gone. For my entire life, the world had acted against me, so why should I help it? I planned to live my entire life alone. No one helped me when it mattered, so why should I do the same?


"Hey, you all right?" I blearily opened my eyes, and saw a fuzzy image of a 14 year old girl hovering over me. She picked me up and hugged me.

"You look half-dead. I don't have much, but let's stick together...you look really young, you know... how old are you?"

"Seven..." I replied.


Eventually, they found me. Team Plasma were now capturing all the pokemon with ease, as they alone had the technology to heal, feed and train their pokemon, and the pokemon who came and pleaded with me to help them overthrow Team Plasma were helpless to stop it.

What chance did they stand?

As years went by, less and less pokemon came. One day, I went outside to find my front yard empty.


My mother ran from my father, blood gushing out of her neck...she collapsed against a wall whilst hugging me. Her last words were whispered out so softly that only one seven-year-old boy could hear them.

"My son...I'm sorry I haven't been a good parent, but please, please, don't be selfish. Always help others, even if you don't think they deserve it. In the end, everything will work out. I know you've been given a bad start to life, but try and get a job, or at least, stay away from drugs and crime...Promise?"

"Promise..."


I was eighty now. I hadn't seen a pokemon in over twenty years. Every day, I still woke up, and every day, I still tended to my plants to make sure I would still have food. However, today, as I headed out, I saw a man. It was the ditto that I had thrown the syringe to, all those years ago. He pointed a shaking finger at me, his other hand in his pocket.

"Are you proud? Proud of all you've done? You were our only hope, and you've enslaved us all! See me? I'm the last free pokemon in the entire world! I hope you're proud...because at least all those lives in the world would have been wasted to make one human happy!"

I stood there and watched as he raged on. Once he had finished, he gave me one last glare and his other hand came out holding a gun. Before I had a chance to react, he shot me in the chest. I fell to the ground, clutching at my failing heart, staring at the figure who towered over me. "I should have done this a long time ago, but what matters is that I did do it." The ditto walked off into the distance as I felt myself lose my grip on life.

I didn't care. I had lived my life to the fullest.

Strong until the very last, bitter till the very end.

My eyes closed for the last time, and I saw her again.


O.o This was crazy. Like...I don't know. It was meant as a challenge to myself to think of a realistic way to turn an entire world into pokemon, as fics where the entire world gets turned into pokemon generally do so by zepplins dropping gas bombs (sorry ValeforXD) or a magical curse, and it actually proved to be hard to think of a realistic way to do so. I ended up taking this idea from one of the Alex Rider books, but I can't remember which (probably Stormbreaker).

Then it got really dark, and I tried implementing the matchstick girl into the story, and turned out to get more and more depressing. XD

The good news? I guess that later on, I can come back and continue this story. It's perfectly possible and I laid a spot so I could continue this story. For now, it's a oneshot, and will probably stay that way.

But hey...you never know...