Chapter 1

Pokémon used to bring joy to their masters. They were used as more than just tools. They were used more than just to gain power. They were friends-family- and seemed to make the world right. It was a peaceful time back then. Now all that remains is destruction.

It all started when some scientist had the bright idea that they could combine the human spirit with that of a Pokémon. Wrong. They had sent out people to search for other people that wouldn't mind being part of the experiment. When they found Red, they couldn't pass him up. He was picturesque, the perfect image of a trainer. And like a fool, he agreed to it. Having no idea what was in store for him, they scientist strapped him to a chair. That's when terrible things began to happen. They wheeled in some kind of machine-a machine that bound him to the spirit of Moltres, the fiery bird Pokémon. The spirit was hot, fighting, doing everything in its power in order to keep its independence. It was futile. Minutes into the process, Moltres and Red became one. And he had never felt so alive. He had acquired enormous power, more power than he could have ever imagined. Using this new found strength, he broke the bonds that held him in place, and slaughtered every single person in sight. In fact, the entire facility had gone up in flames thanks to him.

Soon, he went on a rampage, killing anything and everything that crossed his path. He pleaded with himself to stop, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, all he seemed to crave erupting flames and blood on his hands. It was the most horrifying thing that he had to every witness. And he was powerless against this demon that resided inside.

He was not the only one possessed, however. He managed to talk his friends into it, and now the four of them caused disasters wherever they went, killing innocents, burning villages, creating horrific storms that wiped out entire towns, even summoning blizzards to freeze anyone the ice came into contact with. They would remorse after every attack, praying that it would stop. And a few decades ago, it did. Well, kind of. They managed to learn how to control their demon-some more than others- and craved nothing but a peaceful life. One that they would never have.

Red stood on the precipice of the mountain, gazing down at the city below. This was his mountain-he had claimed it years ago- and he would come here when he needed to think. And now, he needed to think. He no longer craved the demon out of his body. Since he gained some control over it, he became accustom to all the new perks: accelerated healing, strength beyond any mortal could ever imagine, an eternity to live. He had not aged a day since that fateful afternoon, and he couldn't distinguish if it was a blessing that he would stay twenty forever, of if it was a curse. He shook the thought from his head. This was not what he needed to be thinking about right now. The red moon was coming out tonight, and his spirit always took over, no matter how much he fought. More than to think, he trekked the mountain to maintain everyone's safety, especially his friends. He would rather die than to see any of them hurt, and if he was the one that hurt him, severe consequences would follow. Sure, he couldn't kill himself, but he would find someone that could. The sun began setting, and Red's heart picked up speed. Time was almost here. He hated when this happened. Usually he would have one of his friends chain him in the dungeon in their expansive home, but not tonight. None of his three companions could be found. Where they hiding from him? The thought angered him, but he understood. He would hide from himself if he could.

The sun was just above the horizon. Damn, so close now. Out of the four of them, Red was the fiercest. His temper was very hard to control, and sometimes he just snapped, breaking-and sometimes even maiming- anything he came into contact with. A red haze would usually cloud his better judgment, and he learned that fighting it just made the situation worse. That didn't stop him from doing it though. Every time he would feel a violent rage coming on, he would take deep breaths, count to ten, anything to calm himself. He didn't want anyone hurt. He already had enough torture to live with.

Finally, the sun sank into the purple sky. A fire started in Red's stomach, and he knew it would only get worse. It was easy to handle, at first, but the fire began climbing up his chest and into his heart. From there, the fire quickly spread to the rest of his body. This is it! His body-no, he- screamed. An ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech echoed off the caverns on this elevation. Fire enveloped his body, singing his clothes. Tomorrow, wherever he would wake, he would wake naked. He was used to it by now. Pain surged through his body as his bones began to realign, shifting into a birds body frame. The pain was agonizing, but Red enjoyed every minute of it. The pain was pleasure to him. His arm cracked and twisted until they were wings, his legs shrank until they were bird's feet. His skull and face condensed, his nose and mouth morphed into one. And all the while, his vision was changing. He no longer saw color, but the heartbeat of his prey. Red being closer to the heart, blue being farther away. Nothing could hide from him now as he soared the sky, looking for prey hidden within forests. Or towns. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't eat people if given the opportunity. Soon, very soon, he would take flight into the endless blue.

Finally finished morphing into his demon, he released another screech as a warning for all potential prey. He then stretched his wings, flapped them once, twice, and became airborne. There was no telling what he would do in this form, and there was no way that he would remember. He never did.

Red awoke-his head pounding- in some strange room. Oh no! Had he been captured when he was vulnerable? Where they going to conduct more tests on him, maybe even kill him? This would have never happened if his 'Friends' would have been there like they should have been. A red haze fell over his vision, but he was too late to realize what was happening. He began to punch. At anything really. First it was the walls. He had left pretty good sized holes in them, and then it was the floor, where holes were also left. That didn't satisfy him, so he began throwing things. It began with the small things that were lying around, such as vases and books, but quickly escalated into much bigger things.

Without even having to use half his strength, he tore up the bed that was bolted to the floor and threw it at the door. Crash! The door broke open, and the red haze flickered. It was still there, but it became dull. Or at least as dull as it would ever get. He leaped over the bed and found himself in a hallway. A very familiar hallway.

Voices ignited, followed by footsteps. He had apparently made a surplus of noise, and his captors heard him. They were getting closer, closer, closer. Red panicked. Finding the first door he could, he dove inside it and gently shut it. Didn't want them to know he was still here; it would be better if they thought he escaped. That way if they went out to search for him, he would make his escape then. He wasn't stupid.

The footsteps ceased, and there was a cry of anger. A very familiar cry of anger. When one of his captors spoke, he suddenly put the pieces together.

"Dammit, Red!" A voice Red knew all too well cursed. His cheeks flushed as realization hit him. This was his home, and that must have been Yellow's bedroom. Then came a next question: Should he stay hidden and out of trouble, or should he walk out there and take responsibility. The first, he decided as he jumped into the closet. They couldn't hurt him if they couldn't find him, right? Wrong. It was as if they knew exactly where he was. The sound of a door being knocked down filled the room, but Red didn't move. Maybe they were just knocking down doors, hoping that he would come out of hiding. Yeah, that was it. There was no way they could have known where he was hiding. Triumph played on his lips until the closet door opened, and he found himself face-down on the floor.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Yellow snarled. "You trashed my fucking room!"

"Well, maybe if you would have put me in my own room I wouldn't have freaked out and trashed yours!" he shouted back.

"You guys calm down," Blue said in his calming tone. He was always calm, no matter what happened. Red had never once seen his emotions show through that invisible mask he always wore. Yellow proceeded like he hadn't even spoken.

"And you couldn't even find the decency to put on some clothes!"

Red looked down at his body. You would think the first thing he would notice was his penis hanging out in the breeze, but it wasn't. It was actually his stomach. It was charred, more than usual. Why? Had he started a fire last night? Killed someone innocent? Bile rose in his throat, and all traces of anger were replaced with distress. He looked up from his body.

"Did I hurt anyone?" His voice was broken. He hated showing his soft side to his comrades, but he could not stop it. No one answered him. His blood began to boil as he turned to the always stoic Blue. "Did I hurt anyone?" He repeated, fiercer. Blue dropped his gaze, and that's when Red lost any control he had over himself. He had hurt someone. It didn't matter if that someone was a criminal, he had killed someone. Those days were supposed to be behind him. He couldn't live with himself knowing that he had murdered another being. Again, that red haze clouded his vision, and he stalked out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Yellow cried out to him. "We're not finished yet!" His voice became muffled as Red put distance between them. Distance. That's what he needed now, more than ever. Distance from this town. Distance from his friends. Distance from his demon. But he knew none of those were possible. He relied on his friends. He would never admit that out loud, but he needed them. Cared about them. Practically worshipped them. There was no way he would be able to leave them behind, no matter how hard he tried. His survival depended on them, as did theirs on Red. The completed each other, the only thing in this hellish life that made sense.

Red walked past the living room, ignoring Yellow's calls for him, and followed the path he took to the mountain. His mountain. His territory. And everyone knew it. He didn't even bother putting clothes on because he kept an extra set up there just in case. He continued walking, not caring about who seen his body. Several women stopped and stared. Whether they liked or were just curious he didn't know, didn't care. He continued the path until finally, he reached the peak. Here he would sit for hours by himself. No one to bother him, no one around that he could hurt. Just him. And silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

Taking out a bag that he stashed away here, he produced a shirt, pants, and boxers. He swiftly put them on, thankful that he was now completely covered. As he turned around, Blue was standing on the edge of the elevation. No doubt he had watched him dress, but he remained silent.

"What the hell, Blue?" Red growled. "Can't I get some privacy?"

"Never seemed to bother you before, so why does it now?" He countered. Red had no answer to that question. He sighed and dropped to the ground, taking in his friend's features. His eyes were a calm blue, his hair black as night. Being possessed by the spirit of Articuno meant that he was almost always collected. He had to be; otherwise he would freeze over the entire city.

"What do you want?"

"To know what's bothering you, Red."

"I killed someone!" Red shouted. "How am I supposed to feel? Cheerful?"

"You've been like this the past few days. What's wrong?" He ignored Red's outburst. It seemed to be a hobby of his that he enjoyed entirely too much, if you asked Red.

Red shook his head. So he had noticed, huh? Of course he noticed, he was Blue after all.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he replied softly. Blue burrowed his brow.

"I don't remember giving you a choice. Now spill." There was just no winning with this man. Red inhaled before he began to…spill.

"I've heard rumors," he started slowly. Blue shot him a look that told him to continue. "About people gathering together in order to kill us. I'm not sure if it's true, but if it is we need to be prepared."

Blue's face, as usual, was hard to decipher. Was he angry at Red because he had withheld this information? Was he skeptical? After a moment's silence, Blue nodded in confirmation. "If that is the case, we must tell Green and Yellow." And with that, he turned and faced the precipice of the mountain. He was going to jump, no doubt, but he would not die, for he would summon his wings. Yes, he had wings. And so did Red and Yellow. Red just didn't like to use them. It was a reminder of the monster that he had become.

Red watched as Blue's icy wings sprouted from his back. He was actually envious. Blue didn't have to worry about going off the edge because he was calm all the time. He didn't have to constantly worry about hurting the people he cared so deeply for. Again, Red shook his head to clear it. What exactly was he going to do if the rumors were true? He didn't want to hurt anyone, even if they wanted to hurt him. It actually sickened him to think about it. Once again, he found himself trying to clear the thoughts from his head. This was actually something he needed to think about, but he couldn't. Not right now anyway. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Since he had now calmed himself, he decided it was time he went back to the house, swallow his pride, and apologize to Yellow about his room. He would even offer to fix it…maybe.

In order to save time, he figured he would just summon his wings and fly off too. As much as it pained him to do so, he did. A fiery trail in the sky was the only indication that he had ever been there.