Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, the games or the anime. This is a fan made story made for entertainment purposes. Any regions and character from games or anime included in this story are property of Nintendo. Any original characters are made and owned by me.

Before you read, one thing you should know. This story does not follow the path of the anime or the games. It is an original story plot (kinda) and only uses the games and shows as a reference for the cities and such.

Reviews are appreciated so drop one if you want.

"Sam, wake up! You have to get to Professor Birch's lab by noon."

A young teen, with shaggy brown hair, was sprawled across his bed while a woman yelled at him. The woman, obviously his mother, started to literally drag him off the mattress by his leg. Only then did he start to stir and he opened his dark brown eyes.

"Mom, leave me alone, my alarm hasn't even gone off yet," he mumbled groggily. His mother slapped him lightly on the back on the head to get him more focused.

"You slept through your alarm, Sam," she told him and jutted her thumb towards his nightstand. Sam's sight wandered to the digital clock by his bed and his eyes shot open when he saw the time.

"Its eleven thirty already?" he exclaimed, "I only got half an hour left!"

"Exactly, now get ready quickly if you want to get that job," his mother ordered him and left his room. Sam sat on the edge of the bed in shock before his brain remembered what to do. He scrambled out of his pajamas, put on his lucky blue shirt, a pair of shorts and his baseball cap before running downstairs.

He jumped into the foyer, skidding around the corner to the kitchen. His mom handed him a piece of toast and he wolfed down in an instant. As he ran back to the front door, he grabbed a pair of fresh socks from the top of the laundry pile and jumped on the spot to get them on. The pair of running shoes slipped on snugly as he picked up his bag and he ran out of the house, shutting the door before shouting a goodbye to his mom.

In Sam's mind, he was beating himself for being so stupid. Birch had been kind enough to give him the job of delivering a package to Kanto and the last thing he wanted to do was be late for the pickup. The job would take up most of the summer break but Sam didn't care. He was in need of money and all he had planned for the school break was playing videogames and feeling his ass grow.

There was a crossroads ahead and Sam skidded to a stop. He looked ahead, down the path that so many ten-year-olds had travelled to get their first Pokémon from Birch. There was a time in Sam's life where he could have become a trainer but he chose not to. His school grades were great and he reasoned that becoming a scientist would benefit the world greater than becoming a trainer. He had no interest in training Pokémon, unlike so many of his friends.

Instead of heading straight, he headed down the path to his left, which lead to the woods. It was off the beaten path but unlike the well known road, which had many bends, this one lead right to the lab. Of course, that meant going through a small dark forest but Sam had been through enough times to know that wild Pokémon didn't attack him. As he ran through the forest, he realized something was wrong. He looked around for the source of discomfort but didn't know what it was.

The trees were eerily still and no sounds of wild Pokémon came from the foliage. The smell of damp and decaying plant hung in the air. To Sam, this was always how this forest felt. Nothing seemed different. He patted his pockets and groaned loudly. He had forgotten his keys and his mom would be out by the time he got back. He spun around and started to sprint back to his home.

"Stop right there, kiddo," a gruff voice said from the darkness. Like an idiot, Sam stopped in his tracks. In an instant, he was surrounded by five large, masked men. A sixth stepped from the shadows and walked up to Sam, "You have something we want." The voice was the same as the first. Too bad Sam had no idea what they were talking about.

"I don't have anything of value," he tried to explain calmly, but his voice wavered with fear, "my bag doesn't have anything in it, I was just on my way h-"

"Cut the bullcrap, kid," the man said harshly, "we know you're the delivery boy for Birch. Now give us the package unless you want to have an accident."

Sam's eyes widened in terror. They wanted whatever Birch was delivering and they were prepared to do anything to get it, "I-I have-I haven't p-picked up the p-package yet," he stuttered, hoping that they'd let him go. Instead, the leader threw him on the ground violently. When he tried to get up, Sam got kicked in the ribs.

"We told you not to lie," he growled as Sam rolled on the ground in pain, "now we're going to have to do it the hard way."

At that, the rest of the group ganged up on him. Sam, who had only just finished grade nine, didn't stand a chance against the grown men. They kicked him, punched him and stomped on him. All he could do was curl in the fetal position and hope that they would stop soon. Eventually, one of them ripped his bag off his shoulders and tore it open. He flipped it upside down but nothing came out.

"This bag is empty!" he yelled and tossed the bag aside, "He hasn't even gotten the ball yet!"

They all swore loudly, all choosing a different curse word. Sam started to get up, fighting to stay conscious through the pain. He barely managed to get on all fours before the leader kicked him savagely in his head. For a brief moment, Sam felt the boot connect with his head and heard something crack before he was knocked out. His limp body rolled into a ditch and the six men left him there to die.

For a few minutes, Sam was able to regain consciousness. His eyes didn't seem to work but he could just make out the sound of talking.

"Oh, look at this poor boy," a voice said. To Sam, it sounded like an old woman, "those bullies really did a lot to him."

"Heh, maybe if he was a better fighter, he wouldn't have lost so badly," a second voice commented. This one seemed to be from a man. A smack was heard and the second voice cried out in pain.

"It was six on one, no one could win against those odds," the first voice said sharply.

"Okay, okay, but what can we do for him?" the second voice asked, "I don't think he'll last much longer in that state."

"We'll get him to that place the humans call a hospital. Maybe he could recover under their care."

"How are we supposed to get him there?"

"You idiot! We're big; we can drag him if we have to."

The second voice agreed with a reluctant sigh. Sam felt an intense pain rip though his shoulder and he blacked out once again.