A supposedly thought-provoking, hardly up-to-standard piece about a Koffing. Yes, let's just say it's a really well-trained Koffing and that the trainer didn't bother to evolve it. Names in this piece were suggested by DarkBlaziken.
Follows the criteria of my fanfic challenge: a oneshot of no more than 1000 words, involving a bug or poison type, and containing the phrase "wilted petals". Hope you like it.
:.:Poisoned Breath:.:
The battle ends as Master planned; I take the opponent out with a gush of acid that he calls "Sludge". As I watch the Persian crumples to the ground, unable to go on, the audiences all around give us a roaring cry of triumph.
"Great job," Master says. He's said that to me many times; I know it means something good. Pleased with myself, I grin and hover over him as he proceeds onstage to receive his coveted trophy.
On the stage, everything is amazing. Everyone's looking at us. Everyone's clapping; it means that we did well. We've won the tournament, and I'm sure everyone will see us with new respect now. I'm wonderful, I feel wonderful.
Outside, we walk the grounds of the stadium. Master looks elated, looking on at the bright sky.
I hear a shout from the left. Both of us turn. "Jonathan!" There's a girl running towards us, her calls bright and joyful. Jonathan, that's Master's real name. I prefer to think of him as "Master".
"Uh…hey, Kayla," he replies with a smile. "Why're you here?"
She smiles back. "Congratulations on your win," she says, looking down. I come closer to Master's shoulder. In her right hand, she holds a rose, which she gives to Master all of a sudden. Master looks surprised.
A rose…I am curious, curious about what this rose might be. I've never touched one, or even smelt one. I've only heard its name and seen its bright red petals. Why is it that these humans like its smell so much. I've never smelt a rose before. Master doesn't allow me to go near any plants or Pokemon, except in battle. Why is he so afraid? Is there something wrong with me?
Waving the girl goodbye, he takes the rose and smiles down at it. "Should get it some water to put it in…" he thinks aloud, searching his bag. "Ah, this bottle would do." Master puts the green stick on one end of the rose into his water bottle.
Back in our hotel, Master puts the flower down on the table. He seems to like it very much.
While he is gone, I stare forlornly at the lone flower as it stands on the bedside table, seeming to glow. It's so beautiful, I really want to smell it, just once. It wouldn't hurt, would it?
Coming close, I take in a breath of the rose's scent. Ah, it is lovely! It reminds me of spring and sunshine, of Master, and of the world outside.
But—what's wrong with it? It's turning grey. One by one, the petals of Master's beautiful rose are turning grey, and falling, falling upon the table top, no longer holding any of the beauty they had at first.
Panicking, I float further from it. It's too late, all the petals have fallen; it's dead.
Is it because…of me? Is this why…why Master doesn't want me to go near flowers?
It smelt amazing. But I shouldn't have done that; now, it's gone. It's because of me, isn't it?
A memory flashes into my mind, many—a Persian falling to the ground, hundreds of other Pokemon doing so right before my eyes.
Is pouring acid and poisoned gas over my foes the only thing I am good for? Am I really as wonderful as I thought I was?
Wracked with grief and guilt, I sweep up the wilted petals with puffs of air, poisoned air, scattering them over the floor.
I'm just a bringer of death. I should have listened to my master, stayed away from his flower. The petals strewn across the ground are a testament to that. I killed his rose, and it's not his wrath that I fear. It's myself; it's whether I am worth Master's efforts of training me and bringing me up, or not, that I fear.
After all, I'm only a curse, and Master has been trying to hide reality from me.