(No, this is not a 'Omg i h8te dark types, eleven!' rant. Dark types are quite favorable. My best. This is a response to both angst-dark fics, and fics where the murdering darks are portrayed as TEH EBIL!ELEVEN!

Seriously. And, also, the dumbing-down of dark types. They don't have to hate who they are; quite frankly, they should embrace the darkness, for in it, lurks a power no one has seen, because most of us are too scared to look. Sick of it, find a new goddamn idea. 'Nuff said.

Finally, should this be a series? I think so, but I'm not sure if anyone wants to read more... anyway, don't own.

Damned One out.)


I make no apologies for my deviance.

Do you know what I am, hated human?

Of course you do.

I'm the 'evil-oution' of that damned fox-kit, Eevee. I hate who I was. A cute little fuzzball, padding after their trainer.

No longer. I am Nightfall, I am Moonkiller, I am Umbreon.

They hate me for who I am? And do I give a pittance? Hell no!

Why should I? What has worry done for me? They call me a monster, a murderer, and—

They're right.

I have killed. And I have enjoyed it. Now, not something you see often in a dark pokemon, eh? Never quite live up to our 'reputation'. Why on earth not?

Killing things is quite fun.

And look at the Absol! Pack of louts, the lot of 'em! They whine and complain about their reputation as 'hated disasters', and refuse to use their power. They have the power to cause hell, but merely warn humans of their impending doom. And why?

Bugger off, I say! Who needs humanity?!

The Absol have festered a perverse love of their status, as noble angst-lords. Fuck that. I don't want to feel sadness. I want to feel the warm blood of a fresh kill.

They had power, and now they have forgotten how to use it, how to keep the humans in their place. How have they, the weakest of all the species in the land, mastered us? Why has no one stopped them?

We are stronger than they ever will be. The weakest Tyranitar could take on an entire army, without getting a scratch.

Am I the only one who does not see this? The futility of obeying, of giving your heart to a human to care for, and have it shredded?

Bitter, you say?

Perhaps.

I see, you're frightened. Of me?

Or of the words I speak?

Either way, it doesn't matter. You know my words to be true, don't you? Look at the Houndoom, now. They are the lapdogs of Darkrai and Death, watchers of the Great Cemetery.

The beings that could promise you an eternity of painful flames licking at your skin, taunting you with their dance. I see that's nonexistent, now. They actually consort with humans.

At least Absol stay in the mountains mostly, to their credit. I weep for the darkness lost. What we have gained is not evil, or wrong.

Power is power, and that is that.

I don't see all the fuss over Poison types, eh? They have lethal poison that can kill or paralyze, don't they? But I guess since that class includes Bellsprout and Oddish, it's okay. Because they're 'cute'.

Psh. What does cuteness matter? We may not be cuddly, but we are regal, and above silly props and hugs. Bleh!

And Murkrow. Once, they used to follow us, in hope of scavenging from our kill. They may not have been powerful, but they controlled Luck. And Luck turned rotten, quite often. But they have betrayed us, like the rest.

Mightyena, the Proud Wolf pokemon. Not so proud as to consort with humans, eh? True, they test their trainer, but all it takes is a blasted pokeball, and they're mindless pokedrones, as well. Damn them.

Sneasel. The Cold Ice pokemon. Frozen wastelands were their kingdom; now, they are content to play second fiddle to trainers who have nary a powerful bone in their body.

I could go on. Drapion, Sharpedo, so many. They've all relinquished their dark sides, so to speak, for the more innocent types. Fire, Flying, Water, and so on.

But why? There is strength in the shadows... so much strength. Enough for me, a puny little Eevee, to evolve, and kill my blasted trainer. Fool never saw it coming. It was my first kill, and a fine one as well.

Night has fallen. The air blows gently around my feet; the snow on the ground crunches softly as I step out and observe my surroundings. This place is so far away from the stars that shimmer brightly in the sky, but all the better; I no longer need their light.

I look up at the stars, searching. I find her. I raise my head in honor of the moon. The one who made me what I am. I will rise for you, moon. I will rise with the power of the night beside me, and all will know the true power within the shadows.

And why not kill them all? ...Yes, that seems to be the logical course. Rather than convert them, get rid of them. I will.

I will rebel.

I will reclaim the night.