A/N: btw--Carrick Donovan means "a rock from the dark
valley." Cool, ne?
Blood Destiny
Frozen palms rubbed together furiously for warmth
throughout the damp alleyways, and Brock's breath almost made his hands colder
as hypothermia began to relax into his damp, ice-frosted skin. The people next
to him could have kept him warm, they all could have kept warm together, but
they'd rather die of their own cold than by each others' hands.
The sky was beginning to turn orange as the radiation drew closer. Brock
closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, a strange thought of morbid comfort
crossing his mind. At least it wouldn¹t be the cold that killed him.
Something tapped his
shoulder, and he reeled immediately. His flesh had practically been ripped off
by a starving person before, so he was a little jumpy. But upon looking down,
he met with a pair of lonely blue eyes that just seemed so familiar.
"You¹re
not scared of me?" he whispered.
"Everyone is scared of each other."
"We're dead, anyway," she
shrugged.
"I
know you" he gulped. "Where from?"
"You don¹t remember?" she
blinked slowly and sadly.
Brock didn¹t recognize
the thin, half dead little girl as she clung to his arm. She could possibly
have been older than she appeared since she was obviously emaciated. Brock was
emaciated as well, but at least he couldn¹t see himself.
"I guess I look more
different than I thought," she chuckled, then tugged on Brock's collar,
bringing him closer to her. His face flushed as the breath of another human
lightly touched it, and he had an inclination to try and escape, but he
repressed it.
"I guess Armageddon did
this to me," she nearly laughed, and brought herself closer to Brock. "But
let's not forget what brought us here--our destiny is written in blood. We're
going to die, and you don't even recall the name of the one you love."
Brock's eyes widened,
and he was about to speak her name, but he wasn't able to as they embraced and
kissed.
Death drowned them as
they stood like that, the sun a secondary light against the flower which
bloomed across the sky to swallow the souls of all below. . .
"God," Brock mumbled,
kicking his blankets off once again. "That dream, I keep having that dream—"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Brock kept his fist to his mouth the entire time.
Wind whipped around his jacket and
hair, making the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was. Misty
closed her eyes and pulled some stray hairs from her face and from her mouth,
having an even harder time keeping her cool than Brock.
Good thing I left Togepi at the gym, Misty thought
to herself as she could hardly stand straight in the gale forces which
surrounded.
Misty, in one free moment, looked over to Brock. His face
didn't express any emotion as he stared at the building. Misty sidestepped over
to him and looped her arm in his, letting him know that she would help him get
through this.
"It's so empty," Brock blurted in a whisper, turning to
Misty with the same vacant look upon his face. Misty could hardly believe he
kept such a straight visage after whispering something that sounded like total
desolation.
Brock's mouth dried out as he stood, and he shoved the
hand not monopolized by Misty into his jacket pocket, balled into a fist.
"It's like going to the dentist," Misty sighed and patted
his arm, "you gotta do it, but it'll be over. And unlike the dentist, you'll
never have to do it again."
Brock nodded as if he had taken Misty's advice to heart,
but the vacant look remained.
"Hello!" a friendly voice stabbed the rigid air, and its
source briskly meandered over to Brock and Misty. "I take it you're the
proprietors?"
Brock nodded. "I am. I'm Carrick Donovan, the Shale
family's only remaining cousin, and only relative old enough to negotiate what
happens to the building."
Not only was he Carrick Donovan, his hair was dyed black
and he sported a faux black goatee. Misty didn't like the look, but there was
nothing else to keep the league representative from recognizing him.
"I'm sorry about what happened," the woman looked to her
feet, though her statement was little more than unconvincing. "I'm Janice
Bandri, but feel free to call me Jan."
"I'd just like to get this over with, Ms. Bandri," Brock
kept his pocketed fist clenched as he spoke with the woman. "This place brings
back memories I'm not ready to deal with."
"Understood," Bandri replied, as if insulted by Brock's
unfriendliness. "For starters, who is next in line to run the gym?"
"No one," Brock stated firmly, "sell the damn hellhole."
"Now," Misty stepped in front of Brock to interject,
should he begin to scare the woman, "B--Carrick doesn't mean that, he's just
upset. Although it probably would be best if the estate was left in the
league's hands--we don't have the means nor will to deal with it."
"Understood," Bandri said once again. It must have been
her favorite word. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to start the place up again?
Gyms are a great moneymaker, and--"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my LIFE," Brock
interrupted, a vein nearly popping within his temple, "you can burn it to the
goddamn ground for all I care."
"Upset," Misty groaned, "he's not usually like this."
"Well," Bandri shrugged, "I guess the league will handle
it from here. Thanks for coming by."
Sans goodbyes, Brock and Misty turned and began walking
back to their car.
"Oh yeah," Bandri called to them as they left, "you'd
better watch your back, Shale, they're after you now."
Brock turned around to face Bandri, as quickly as humanly
possible, but she had disappeared.
"What the--" Misty was frozen in her tracks, and she
grabbed Brock's arm as he turned back around.
"It's called hell just got hotter," Brock sighed, then
shook his head as he and Misty continued their stroll to the car.
"How'd it go?" Gary asked as Brock piled into the back
seat.
"Lovely, thank you," Brock replied facetiously.
"I'm sorry Shale," Gary apologized, "I know that was hard
on you."
"You don't know the fucking half of it," Brock grumbled
as Gary started the engine. "By the way, 'they' are after me."
"They?" Gary raised an eyebrow. "What? That woman--"
"Disappeared," Brock interrupted. "After telling me that
'they're' after me now."
"A lovely end to a lovely day," Ash pouted in the shotgun
passenger seat.
"Don't make me hurt you, Ketchum," Gary snarled.
"Pikapi," Pikachu gave Ash a chastising look, as if it disapproved
of his facetiousness as well.
Brock coughed quietly and turned to look out the window.
Thickening gray clouds infested the skies, threatening to drizzle at any
moment. There was a likelihood the howling wind would just blow it all away,
but it was more likely that it would just pile it up until it slammed down upon
them.
"Don't think about it Brock," Misty advised. "We'll cross
that bridge when we come to it. Besides," she put a hand on his shoulder, "what
could they possibly want with you?"
"Wasn't I responsible for one of their deaths?" Brock
stared at Misty with his eyebrows furrowed, as if having stated the obvious.
"It was really me if you want to be technical," Misty
shrugged. "My bosses killed one too. You didn't kill them. And if you had, it
would have been in self defense."
"Hm," Brock replied lackadaisically, and Misty wondered
if anything she said was penetrating his thick skull at all.
Thunder crashed, though the sound of the quickly building
wind nearly covered the sound up completely.
The car--a fairly old two-door five-seater coupe--was extremely
uncomfortable to the highly-restless Brock. He just wanted to get out, stretch
his legs, and tell his sister that the place was going to be out of sight and
out of mind soon enough.
Brock looked over to Misty and decided to take up her
silent offer of comfort. He leaned his head onto her shoulder, and she clasped
his hand in reassurance as they drove.
The car began to swerve and Gary's control of it began to
wane. Brock jerked up from his comfortable spot on Misty's shoulder quickly,
afraid that they'd have to deal with the Mistakes all too soon.
"Gary," Brock leaned over in the seat and put a hand on
his friend's shoulder, "what's happening?"
"Sweet mother of fuck," was all he could say, and
suddenly slammed on the brakes in some random spot in Cerulean City.
"What?" Brock became even more panicked. "Why did you
stop here? Should we bail out of the car? What?"
"Look in front of you," Gary seemed spastic, "you blind
man?"
"All I see is an empty field," Brock raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe you're hallucinating--let me drive--"
"That's what I see too," Gary screamed, "but what we
SHOULD be seeing is the Cerulean City gym!"
"Wha?" Misty jumped, and everyone in the car piled
themselves onto windows, making for an unhappy crowd.
"It's gone!" Gary's eyes fell. "Gone!"
"Katie!" Brock shouted, then opened the door and found
himself unable to get out. "Fucking seatbelt," he shouted as he practically
ripped it out of the buckle in his panic. "Katie!" He shouted again, once he
was able to escape the car and run into the middle of the field.
"Shale!" Gary shouted, and followed Brock into the field.
"You don't know if it's a trap!"
"Let them come!" Brock shouted, and then fell to his
knees. "Let them. I'll kill them."
"Brock," Misty whispered as she ran out to him. "Brock!"
Brock stayed fallen on his knees, shaking as he did so.
"Not Katie too," he shouted, "not her too!"
Misty breathed in deeply and then put her arms around his
shoulders. "Maybe they got out before whatever happened here happened, Brock.
Don't give up hope yet!"
"I gave it up a long time ago," Brock replied shakily,
then stood to his feet and ripped the faux facial hair from his face, and
pulled off his jacket even though a biting rain had begun to pelt them.
"Brock, what are you doing?" Misty asked as he threw his
jacket to the road and began to run. She chased after him, of course, and she
was quite the runner.
"I hope he doesn't do anything stupid," Ash looked away
from Gary, toward the ground.
"I should go after him," Gary whispered raspily, taking a
step toward the direction in which Brock ran off.
"It's too late now," Ash replied. "Misty will get him."
"She will," Gary agreed, sadly. "Besides, being and
Espiritu probably did a lot for her running abi--"
"Excuse me!" microphones were shoved into both Ash and
Gary's faces. "Were you here when the gym disappeared? Why did it disappear?
Did--"
News vans surrounded the place like ants, and Ash and
Gary began to feel a little on the closterphobic side.
"This must have happened seconds before we got here,"
Gary whispered to Ash. "I mean, if we beat the freakin' media!"
"True," Ash whispered back. "But I think we should be
more worried about her."
"I'm sorry," Officer Jenny sighed as she walked up to
Gary and Ash, "whether you did this or not, I'll have to take you down for
questioning."
"Uh," Gary donned his cocky edifice once again, "I don't
think so, you see, we got here after this happened."
"Really," Jenny smiled slyly, as if she was not impressed
with Gary's alibi. "Well, several neighbors have informed the police that four
people got out of that car at the time the place disappeared."
"Really," Gary replied, wearing a similar grin to the one
Jenny had, "and here I thought my eyes weren't deceiving me when it was
gone when I fucking got here!"
Jenny placed her hands on her hips and licked her lips as
she looked to the ground, thinking of a way to respond. "Don't make this harder
on yourself, you don't want to be charged with resisting the law when probably
nothing will happen to you otherwise--"
"Look, Jenny," Gary became snappy, "how much do I
gotta bribe you to go the hell away? We have bigger problems now! My friend's
SISTER was in there, goddamit, so just fuck off, okay?"
"Gary," Ash shouted in a whisper while tugging on his
shoulder, "calm down, okay? Um, sorry Jenny, he has tourettes syndrome really
badly, and he's also brain damaged, he really can't--"
"Like I'm gonna buy that!" Jenny shouted. "You are under
arrest for verbal assault, please get on the ground--"
Gary began laughing maniacally. "You're crazy, you know
that?"
"Dude," Ash tugged on Gary's sleeve, "what the hell is
coming over you? Now all those other cops are coming over here--"
"They can suck my dick," Gary kept laughing, then pointed
into the sky, "even though I'm not sure I'll have one soon enough! Look, it's
our little friends!"
Both Ash and Jenny looked in the direction Gary was
pointing, and their eyes widened in unison. A figure which looked as if it
could have been a charcoal black mewtwo was coming closer to them. Unlike
mewtwo, however, it was quite slender, and just like all mistakes, had a great
deal of red-colored lightning surrounding its body.
"Piiiiiika," Pikachu warned, and stood on all fours,
electricity crackling along its cheeks. It didn't look particularly formidable,
however, as its fur was soaked and it looked like a pitiful wet rat. But it was
going to fight no matter what.
"Arrest us, bacon patrol," Gary taunted, "then have fun
when you're hunted down by--"
The Mistake flew over them, however, without a second
look.
"They're after B--Corrick, Gary," Ash rationalized.
"Then we're after it," Gary assured. "C'mon loser, make
yourself useful."
Ash nodded, then turned to the police officers.
"I'm very, very sorry," he winced, "but our friends are
in danger. You'll understand someday. Pikachu, use thunderbolt now!"
Pikachu was stunned as it was asked to attack a group of
police officers and wannabe paparazzi, but did as told. "Chuuuu!" it shouted,
letting loose a nasty amount of electricity onto the already wet group.
"Let's go while they're still sizzling!" Ash began to
run.
"Shit," Gary blinked and took off after Ash, "I didn't
know you were gonna do that! We're gonna have to change identities like
Brock after that one! But I am proud of ya. Maybe I'll call you turbo instead
of loser for a little while."
"Gee thanks," Ash shouted into the wind, "I guess I've
been upgraded from loser to turbo! What next, wiener?"
"Good one, turbo!" Gary grinned, though they were still
running like bats out of hell at the same time they conversed.
"I can still see it," Ash announced, than took off a
little faster. Gary wondered how Pikachu had such an easy time of keeping up,
but wondered no more after it decided it had enough and jumped onto his
shoulder.
"HELL-o," Gary blinked, "hitchin' a ride, eh?"
"Pi," Pikachu replied, exasperated.
"God," Brock rubbed his forehead on Misty's shoulder.
"When is my life ever going to be close to normal?"
Misty put a hand on the back of Brock's head and
swallowed hard.
"Not right now, it isn't," she shook, her voice carrying
a tone of resignation.
"Misty?" Brock lifted his head and looked at her quizzically.
"Gaah!" Brock shouted as pain suddenly welled in his
back, and he flipped around to see what had stung him so.
"All right," he smiled, extremely dismissively, "just who
I wanted to see today."
Brock screamed once again as the Mistake's reddish
lightning left its body to scathe his. Why couldn't he fight it this time, like
he had that time in the desert?
"Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikaaaaaa!" a tiny voice shouted
into the clammy air, and the Mistake's attention was temporarily diverted from
Brock. It used its psychic power to lift Pikachu into the air, and it began to
rip the creature to shreds with its red-lightning.
"Ugh," Misty shook her head then stumbled to her feet,
"you wanna battle? I'll give you a battle!"
Misty held three tiny pokeballs between her fingers, and
then threw them all at once.
"Go!" she shouted. "Golduck use surf, Starmie
thunderbolt, Poliwrath--fissure! Now!"
Her pokemon obeyed her commands, and soon enough the
Mistake dropped Pikachu, and Ash dove to catch it.
"Pikachu?" Ash's heart pounded as he held the little
creature.
"Pikapi," it replied.
"You're alive," Ash smiled.
"But he won't be for long," Gary cringed, watching as six
more Mistakes of dissimilar proportion arrived on the scene. "Nice knowing you,
turbo."
"Don't give up just yet," Ash clenched his teeth, "we
could set all our pokemon on them."
"Or we could run like hell," Gary countered. "Good plan,
glad you thought of it."
"We'll never be able to get them all," Misty gulped. "But
we'll sure as hell try."
"Wait!" Gary grabbed a pokeball from his belt. "Dark type
time."
"These aren't exactly normal psychic types," Ash pondered
as Umbreon was released, "but hell! I hope it works!"
The other pokemon were released as well, and were
beginning to be torn up in the ensuing battle.
"Guys!" Brock shouted to his pokemon, "all of you,
concentrate on one!"
His pokemon were unsure as to which they would focus on,
but picked one that was only being attacked by Gary's umbreon.
Leaving one open.
"Brock!" Misty shouted frantically, "what in hell are you
doing?"
Brock didn't listen to Misty, and he leapt up onto the
open Mistake, ignoring the pain which resulted in the stabbing lightning
slicing through his skin.
"Not again!" Gary shouted, and then ran to Brock himself.
"Shale, not again!"
Ash stood back a moment, reeling from the events and
possibilities. A calm soon came over him, as he was suddenly struck with a
premonition.
"We're going to win," he whispered to himself. "We--we're
going to win this battle."
Through the beating it was receiving, one Mistake turned
and looked at Ash, then turned to the other humans.
"Mmmakriaj," it said, or something to that effect in a
robotic tone dismantled to the wind's liking.
The Mistake being attacked by Brock suddenly stopped its
struggle, and the lightning which surrounded it dissipated. Brock was about to
snap its neck when he was suddenly thrown off, and the Mistake developed a
bluish aura.
"Wha--" Brock blinked as he remained airborne for a
moment, then screamed the primal scream as he dissipated into nothingness.
"Brock!" Misty shouted while jumping and grasping at the
spot he was last in. "Oh my Brock!"
"Shale!" Gary shouted, but didn't chase after the
emptiness where Brock once was. "Oh god."
The other Mistakes rose into the air as well, and each
began to glow a different color.
"Geez," Gary snapped, "I guess you're the fucking aurora
borealis now!"
"He's--" Ash's eyes widened. "Run! Run! Run, goddamit!"
But no one ran. Misty dropped to her knees, and Gary
stood defiantly.
"How could I run from the killers of my best friend?"
Gary shook, balling his hands into fists. "You've been demoted from turbo and
loser to FUCK HEAD, Ketchum! Fuck head!"
"No!" Ash tried to reason, "listen to me, I just know we
have to run!"
Ash's attempts to convince his friends to move was
fruitless, and the Mistake closest to him lost its aura, and it surrounded him
instead.
"No!" Ash screamed, but was gone into thin air before
another word could be uttered.
A third Mistake dissipated all the pokemon, although
Pikachu was quite resigned to follow in whatever had happened to Ash.
"Bastards!" Gary shouted, and began throwing rocks at the
figures, "bastards!"
"Yeah!" Misty agreed, and began to throw sand and rocks
as well.
Neither of the two's projectiles hit very well between
the pounding of the rain and the blasting of the wind, and soon they joined
their friends and pokemon--wherever that might have been.
Brock was surrounded by an endless plane of sand, and
his feet sunk into it readily as he tried to walk. He didn't know where he was
walking too, but he knew he was lucky that the sky above was overcast and his
feet weren't burning off. But how long would that last?
He began stepping more gingerly, but still couldn't walk
at a reasonable pace.
"Maybe if I just rolled," he told himself, and then he
laid down at the top of a sand dune, his hands folded across his chest. He
closed his eyes and began rolling down it, then was moving too quickly to
prevent himself from falling into a sandy pit below.
"Ack!" he
shouted, sitting up suddenly, finding himself in a world of darkness. "Hello?
Where am I?"
He put his hands down onto the surface he lye on. It was
a bed.
He put a hand to his head and felt a bandage tightly
wrapped around his forehead.
"Where am I?" he blinked and asked himself, not panicking
quite as much.
Someone flipped the light switch on, and Brock closed his
eyes tightly before adjusting to the light.
"Hello?" he put a hand over his eyes and peered out from
beneath it. It didn't shield them from the light much, but he needed to see who
had walked in.
"Brock," a voice sliced through the stagnant air, a cold
voice--a vaguely familiar voice. The owner of the voice was incredibly
familiar, a beautiful woman probably five or six years older than Brock, with
the same skin tone as he. Was she a long lost relative?
"Y-yeah?" he replied, not wanting to insult her by asking
who she was. He felt that he should know.
"After twenty-three years all you have to say is yeah?"
the woman asked crossly. "I can't believe you."
"Hold up here," Brock put a hand to his head, "I'm only
nineteen years old, sweetheart, ya gotta be mistaken."
"You have to be kidding me," she laughed.
Brock felt insulted. Sure, he was injured, but did that
make him look old?
"I shit you not," Brock grumbled. "Now that I'm insulted
by you, you might as well do me the honor of telling me who you are."
The woman was obviously in shock. She waltzed over to Brock's
bed and slapped him clean across the face.
"Son of a bitch," she spat.
"Wow," Brock tenderly touched his cheek, "I've been conscious
for three seconds, and I'm already getting slapped by girls."
"You can fucking have him!" Brock heard the woman shout from
the hallway.
"Stop," Misty's voice ordered the woman, "it's not his fault;
will you listen to reason?"
"I'm not going to be told what to do by some," the woman began
to cry, "some little GIRL!"
Brock then heard footsteps storming off down the hall, and
some meeker ones entering the room.
"Glad to see you better, Brock," Misty coughed as she stepped
delicately over to his bed. "Ya really are crazy for attacking that mistake like
that."
"Well you know me," Brock sighed. "Crazy is my middle name.
But who was that crazy chick who slapped me for no reason?"
Misty walked over to Brock and grabbed his hand, but didn't
answer.
"Who, Misty?" Brock blinked. "Do you know?"
"Yeah," Misty nodded slowly. "I know."
"Then who IS she?" Brock demanded.
"Your sister," Misty replied softly. "Katie."
A/N: Okay, so this sucked so far, but the next parts are gonna
kick ass, I just had to get into the whole theme of what's gonna happen. Just you
wait, damnit.
