This story is rated M for mature for adult themes/violence, language, and topics. This is not a typical pokemon story and brings to light a more realistic type of world where everything isn't as great as it seems or as cliche. Please enjoy and reviews are welcomed.

I went to school for all these years and for what? I thought being a Pokemon photographer would be more fun. I was always given behind the stage passes during contests and allowed to meet famous contestants, but I found that there was an emptiness within me. It was all superficial, the love between most trainers and their pokemon actually wasn't there. On stage it seemed like it, but behind the scenes a lot of trainers tormented their pokemon. They forced them to eat less, hitting them to reprimand, and did not allow them to evolve. I was beginning to hate the culture that I attended college for four years to be a part of.

It was rare to see those kind trainers who actually cared and more often than not they lost to those who bullied their partners into submission. But there was nowhere I could go. I had to work, I had to pay back my debts and I had no pokemon of my own.

Today, a minor competition was being held that I was being paid as the photographer. I was allowed backset to take pictures of the "pampering" and "process" in which they prepared themselves for the contest. Of course, I was not allowed to take pictures that were scandalizing. Not that I didn't, I kept an sd card with all of the abuse I had managed to snap over my few months of working. Maybe one day it would be put to good use, but all I could do now was hope none of the poor darlings were brutalized.

The show seemed to be getting on well and I was able to work my positions and snap many great pictures that I would late enhance with photoshop. Due to the contest being a lower tier show I noticed that some of the pokemon didn't always do what their trainers wanted. I winced, knowing what was in store for many of them, though none of them deserved it. Most of these pokemon were young and just needed more consistent training rather than beatings.

I was at my station behind stage when I heard a male voice cursing.

"You little shit! I paid so much money to have you sent here from Alola and you can't even follow directions," he shouted.

All of the other trainers barely paid him heed, going about their cleanup routines as if this were a normal occurrence. I lifted my camera and flipped on the video, placing it on the desk facing the perp who was shouting at the white vulpix, cowering in front of him.

"Those who can't follow directions aren't even worth teaching!" he snarled, bringing a fist down on top of the small fox without any restraint.

The pokemon's legs kicked out underneath it as it stumbled, dazed and bewildered by the blow from the trainer. I gasped, placing my hand over my mouth. Once the vulpix recovered slightly the man shouted an order, "Spin!"

But the vulpix did not even attempt to. It whimpered and cried and did not do as he requested. Its little tails tucked between its legs and it wailed pitifully. This did nothing to warrant pity or stop the onslaught. Each time the vulpix did not spin on command, it was given a solid hit until its pure white fur started to become stained with crimson.

Once the little fellow did not get up the trainer snorted in absolute disgust and left the scene. Everyone else had cleared the area, not wanting to bother themselves with the cries of the vulpix. I seized my camera and ran over the beaten creature. The vulpix's eyes were swollen shut and one tooth looked broken and bleeding.

I fumbled with my jacket and wrapped the poor thing in it, glancing around nervously. What should I do? It needed medical attention, but I wasn't certain if the trainer was going to come back and ask what I was doing.

You can't leave it with him, he'll kill it, the poor baby, a voice nagged within me, chasing away all reason.

It was still breathing, but who knew for how long.

I scurried over to my desk and packed my laptop and belongings. I threw the pack on my back and left the contest hall via the back entrance. I spotted a few contestants smoking in the back and chatting, but none really seemed to care about me or the bundle in my arms. I thanked whatever God was smiling on me and prayed that I did not bump into the perp who assaulted the pokemon.

The nearest center was a couple of miles away, but my legs churned and jogged the entire distance, cutting down the time it would have taken to get there.

I entered the center in flurry, my head swimming with deprivation of oxygen from the winded run that I never typically attempted. The adrenaline was gone and I stared at the nurse behind the desk with an expression of pure panic.

"I-I need help," I stammered as I brought the vulpix over and laid it on the desk.

The nurse blinked at me with apprehension. "Oh dear… Oh dear…" she reached over and pulled back my jacket before picking the limp creature up. She immediately picked up the phone. "I have a Code Blue down at the desk."

My shoulders were shaking from both exhaustion and worry, a few other nurses and a doctor appeared at the scene. The nurse I had been speaking with disappeared and was replaced by another medical attendant who was not needed to assist the vulpix.

"I need your trainer ID," he told me.

"I-I'm not a trainer, but here is my regular ID," I rummaged through my back and pulled out my wallet, fingers shaking.

The man took it and scanned the back. "Then you don't have a pokeball for this vulpix either, then?"

"No, s-someone beat him and left him. I took him here as fast as I could," I explained.

He nodded and then fed my ID through a strange copy machine. "Go take a seat, I'll be with you in a moment."

I nodded apprehensively before heading over to the waiting area. I nearly bumped into the young man behind me, pardoning myself, I dragged my body to one of the chairs. Were they going to give the pokemon back to its trainer?

I placed my hands on my face and elbows on my knees. What had I done? I had thrown out everything over this pokemon. I had so much debt that I needed to pay and now I wouldn't have a job. If anyone discovered what I had done there was a good chance that I would be banned from all of the contest halls. Four years down the drain, all for this vulpix.

"Ma'am-" I glanced up to see the attendant in front of me with a few things. "Take these, this is a trainer ID and here is a pokeball," he handed me my original license and a new one with a strange number on it. In the other hand was a white premier ball. "If anyone asks, that vulpix is yours and it escaped and got itself into some trouble with the local gang. They'll know those wounds were human inflicted, but I will vouch for you. Whoever did that to the poor creature does not deserve it back and this is the only way they will not get it back, if you take it."

Holding the objects I stared at him blearily. "And how what will I do? I just threw my job away for this vulpix," I whimpered.

"I know you're a bit older than most trainers, but training pokemon does earn good money if you're good at it."

"Why would I want to make that poor thing fight after all it has been through?"

"Battles have rules and if you push your pokemon to the point of death you can be arrested. I don't know where you found this one, but if my assumptions are right it was probably a pokemon contest. The trainers there get away with murder because there are no witnesses or evidence. Please take him."

I couldn't say no after all I had done. I nodded mutely and clung to the things he had given me before sinking into thought. I had never been interested in training pokemon. I had always thought it brutish and more of a boy's sport. I had the opportunity when I was young, but had decided to stay in school. After all, your chances to become a big shot were slim to none and I had always been dazzled by the shows contests put on.

How ironic it that the monsters were the contest-goers.

"Pardon me," an older woman said to me from a seat not to far away. "I couldn't help but overhear the conversation-" my skin prickled "-and I wanted you to know that my son is a pokemon professor. He lives a few towns over and if you explained your situation, I'm certain he'd be willing to set you on the right path to become a trainer."

I blinked away my bewilderment from the older woman's kind gesture. "I… Thank you, where does he live?"

"Littleroot Town, here take this it'll get you a ride from Slateport to Petalburg, then you can walk the rest of the way," she rifled through her purse and pulled out a boat ticket, offering it to me.

"Thank you… thank you so much."

"There aren't many kind souls like yours out there and I wanted to show my appreciation. Not many would risk what you have, dear. Good luck," after handing me the ticket the old woman stood up and departed, as if she had only been there to distribute the ticket the entire time.

I waited for an unnerving few hours before the nurse came out and informed me that I could see the vulpix. No one asked me what had happened and I wondered if the male attendant had given them a recount of "my story". It made things easier for me than having to lie.

The vulpix was conscious and lying on one of the tables. He had a few bandages, but for the most part appeared healed, though I did not know how they had managed to do it so swiftly.

I approached warily, seeing that he probably didn't know I had saved him. The small creature blinked at me with bloodshot eyes and after catching a whiff of me he nodded his head before placing it down on the table.

I was able to reach out and run my fingers through its soft tendrils of fur. I was overwhelmed by all of it and almost just picked him up. Had he been awake when I ran him to the center? Did he recognize my scent?

I could not say, but the creature let me touch him without hesitation despite what a human had just done to him.

It's not right that they get away with this, I thought as I pet him. It has to be stopped.