Drip...Drip...Drip…
"Please," cowers a little girl, her trembling arms clutching her body, and pulling it in on herself. She chokes out another protest, tears pouring in buckets down the side of her face. "Stop!" Her bottom lip quivers. The shadow looms over her, sucking in any and all surrounding light, and from within the shape something terrible growls. The girl's scream catches in the back of her mouth, and releases itself in throat ripping coughs.
Drip…Drip...Drip…
The sound of something hitting the clean marble floor echos throughout the room's expanse - what should be a whisper of a sound turning into something frightfully deafening.
"Don't come near me," she wails, and coughs, and chokes, as she shields her body from the things view. Her head feels light, and if she tries to move, vertigo threatens to overtake her.
A low guttural growl is heard from within the darkness, red eyes peeking through like slowly dying embers, and before the girl can register it, the shadow leaps forward.
She's screaming, she's screaming, she's screaming, she's - dead.
Drip...Drip...Drip…
They find her body sprawled out on the dew-covered grass somewhere beside an old church too old to keep running. Her face is calm, eyes shut in a peaceful kind of tranquility, and just looking at her stirs something great in the recesses of one's heart, because clearly this girl is the epitome of warmth and beauty, as pure as the freshest of fallen snow on top of the great Mount Silver, and as picturesque as the receding sun as it retires it's place to the moon; anyone would be gracious to be in the presence of such an angel.
Or so one would think.
They take a step closer to her, and as they do a single thought runs through all of their minds: that this girl must be dead, and her soul damned for all eternity.
There is a trail of blood leading up to her left shoulder where a mark of a maleficent black sits so deeply set into her skin that it appears as some kind of birthmark or tattoo. Her skin is pale, and the sad thing is she can't be no more than sixteen. Such a tragedy must have been met here, but something about the mark and the blood doesn't sit well with them. Something terrible sets deep into the pits of their stomachs, because whatever did this to her could not of been human.
There are whispers that go on in the town about other cases like this happening far away, of children like her going missing before turning up half dead with a mark of something horrid lingering on their skin. The whispers speak of slinking shadows with monster-like faces who plague the souls of the living and feed upon their life-force until they are as sunken in, and lifeless as the dead. The mark burns you, they say, that's how it works; it's how you know they're killing you. I've met with a man before who claimed his son had the same thing. He died half a year later, and there was nothing to be done about it.
They look at the girl on the ground with her fair face and flaxen hair, and wonder how much time she has left before that beauty turns sour. There is an air of pity around them, but an even stronger one of fear, and the latter wins out as it always does, and they take haste in departing, not bothering to look back after her; all except one.
The one who stays is a bulky man whose skin has been darkened and worn down finely from work. His hands may be hefty, but they acquire a kind of gentleness when dealing with this girl, so when he places her head upon his lap, he takes great care in moving her fine brown hair out of her face, and makes sure not to touch her shoulder.
"Wake up," he coaxes, his voice gruff but meaningful, and his words urged with passion. "You must fight this, for you can be cured! Rise, young one, and feel the air around you, and the sun on your skin, and know that you are alive and well today, and you will be for longer. I know a man who can help you." As careful as he can manage, he shakes her slightly. "You aren't the only one who has been hurt like this, and with the man's help you can be cured. So open your eyes!"
The overhead sun has nearly gone away by the time she does awaken, her blue eyes rimmed with tears, and her pink lips too dry to speak. She looks up at her companion with fear. Before she can speak, however, her features suddenly seize up. Something painful has shot through her body, and he doesn't have to ask what it is.
He knows that the burning has already begun.
It starts off with her shoulder feeling as though it is being branded with something fiery and hot - like she's being burned. Liquid fire seems to shoot through her entire being, spreading through her like a blooming kind of stain - angry and maleficent, and entirely bent on destroying her from the inside. The girl's face twists in agony, and she squirms in his embrace, her back arching in a way that pushes her shoulders back, causing a rippling pain to flash through her again. She screams. Then, a seizure starts. Her body goes haywire, and the only thing she can do is give in to these convulsions, letting her body squirm and wiggle itself as it pleases. Everything about her shakes, almost as if the bones underneath her skin are vibrating. His grip on her tightens. The sight before him is terrifying, and in all his years he has never seen something so inhuman. Although her body feels like hot metal, he refuses to release her; he's the closest thing she has to being grounded. After a while, her squirming seems to lessen, and he prays that means the pain has seized along side it. Still, something seems wrong, and to his horror he finds that she is incapable of any movement whatsoever - she's been paralyzed. Heat, Seizures, and then paralysis: the symptoms of this cursed mark.
He closes his eyes. How can such an innocent girl be plagued like this? It's unfair! It's horrid!
After some time, he feels a hand on his upper arm, and looks down at the girl who has begun to move again. He let's out a breath. Good, the paralysis isn't permanent.
"It's alright," he attempts to soothe her, his hands shaking as they brush her brown hair backwards from her forehead, where they were previously stuck with sweat. Her face begins to redden, and upon inspection he finds that her skin is burning again.
Her body is overheating.
Panicking, he racks his brain for a possible solution. "Please, excuse me," he says as he carefully removes one of the strands from her right shoulder. She seems to get the hint, and with as much energy as she possesses, begins to remove the garment. He looks away to give her some privacy, and prays that her body will cool down. "I'm sorry," he says again, because what else is there to say in that moment?
"My name is May."
He watches her carefully. It's been an hour since the burning happened, and she's still shaken. He understands of course, it's not as if he wasn't affected himself (seeing someone suffer right before your very eyes is hardly something easily forgotten). He knows they need to leave soon, but he'll give her time.
"May," he repeats, weighing the name in his mouth. It rolls off the tongue easily, and he quite likes it. "That's lovely."
"Thank you," she says quietly. May rubs the right side of her arm absentmindedly, and winces as the act strains her left shoulder. The man frowns. The black mark is still exposed, her white dress ripped at the top, and he finds it terribly unnerving. The mark is like the work of the devil, or so the people around here say. He knows the truth of course: it's something far less grasped.
"Now, I know that this situation is -" he rubs his shoulder awkwardly "- a lot to take in, but I need you to listen to me. What you are going through is something unique. There are few who have endured the same pain as you, and few who have made it - but don't lose faith! for you can be cured."
She looks up at him with wide eyes. "How?" Her voice comes out in barely a whisper.
"I know a man. His name is Howard Caprice, and he has created an institution. This place is designed specifically for those like you, and for as long as he has been the dean of the establishment, miracles have occurred...people have lived."
"You mean people have died?" A burst of fear flits across her features.
His breath catches in his throat. Damn it, he thinks, that was not the thing to have said. "Well," he swallows, there's no use in lying now, "yes; but only because they waited too long to take action. You on the other hand, are lucky in that you've only recently been burned. You have time."
May says nothing.
"Look," he says, lifting up her chin so she will meet his eyes, "It won't come to that. You will be okay." The man looks up at the receding sun, the oranges and pinks mixing together in soft waves. Soon it will be nothing but darkness. "But we have to get moving. You and I will take a train."
"How far is the train? What if I have another fit, what if-" she is cut off by his hand upon her right shoulder (the good one).
"Don't think clouded thoughts, they'll do nobody any good. For now, just focus on the road ahead."
May turns her head to the dirt path that lays in front of her, and takes a deep breath. Carefully, she wills her wobbly legs to stand, and begins her first steps since the accident. "You know," she says as she walks, looking to her left side where he follows behind her small strides, "I don't remember anything but my name."
"You don't remember anything?"
"Nothing."
He tears his gaze away from her. "Well, we'll have to help you remember."
(A/N): Hello readers, thank you very much for taking the time to read what I've written so far! This is going to be my second Multi-chapter story, and I'm super excited! If you have any questions about it so far feel free to ask. I have a lot of ideas for how this is going to go, and I hope that I can deliver a wonderful new story!
Notes: This is going to have a lot of characters, and there will be some shipping (this is me we are talking about) but keep in mind that there is more to this story than that. I feel like some romance will be very important, especially when the characters are dealing with some serious issues and scary moments when they will need to turn to someone to feel safe and in some ways forget some of the things they've seen. I believe the main ships will be: Contestshipping, Pokeshipping, Ikarishipping, and Wishfulshipping. Oh, and for now May will be the main character, because I find her personality fitting for the role. But the spotlight won't be focused only on her.
The chapters will be longer than this as well, this was just the intro.
Pokemon will find their place in this, but in an abstract form as you will see. I think that I would like it to take place in Kanto though.
Anyway, thank you very much! Have a wonderful day!