So the story began in between fifth and sixth periods at school. I was walking through the halls, backpack filled with textbooks that I was too lazy to put into my locker, trying to move with the flow of people as everyone went about their day. I was struggling to stay awake after a particularly boring social studies lecture. Lunch had been awful, so I was snacking on some chips from the vending machine as I walked. I was barely paying attention, so I missed my turn. It took a few seconds to register in my head, and I immediately turned around and bumped into the guy walking directly behind me.
"Hey!" Jacob growled, shoving me away. "You've got a problem?"
I narrowly avoiding crashing to the ground. I braced myself against the wall and shook my head. "No, no," I said quietly, wanting to avoid a conflict. Jacob was taller, broader, and stronger. We'd never gotten along, but we kept out of each other's way. "Sorry, I just wasn't watching where I was going."
Thinking back, the way I acted was pathetic. Sure, it wasn't smart to pick a fight with someone who would certainly win, but I sounded so quiet and scared. Like I was desperate to avoid conflict. That didn't matter to him; he was clearly in a bad mood already and walked up to me, towering over me. People nearby had slowed down to watch, their eyes wide and mouths spreading into excited grins. I noticed Jacob bending his hand into a fist as his other hand grabbed my shoulder and roughly kept me pressed against the wall.
"You sure you don't have a problem?" Jacob seethed, his face inches from mine. "I could fix that."
"Don't do this," I whispered. "I don't want to fight you."
"Alright, fun's over," came a voice from behind Jacob. I nearly sighed in relief when I heard my savior walking up to us.
"Beat it, Drew," Jacob growled. "You know what he did. He fucked with the wrong person."
"He didn't fuck with anyone," Drew said, placing a firm hand on Jacob's shoulder. He glanced apologetically at me before turned to glare at Jacob. Jacob released his grip and stepped back, his furious gaze fixed on me. "Would you believe you're as gullible as Nick?"
"I'm not gullible," said Jacob, glaring at his best friend. "You said it yourself! This shithead-"
"Didn't do a damn thing," Drew finished. "I lied to fuck with you. Get over it."
"Why the fuck would you lie?" Jacob demanded. "Do you think I wouldn't beat the shit out of both of you!"
Drew laughed. He was even taller and heavier than Jacob, one of the largest in our grade. "Pretty sure you couldn't do shit to us," Drew taunted. "Now go. We missed the turn, and you're causing a scene. We're all going to be late, and if I get in trouble, I'll be the one beating the shit out of you after class."
Jacob hesitated, his eyes darting between both of us. I was still worried he'd attack us anyway, but a few tense seconds later he walked around the corner. Now I truly let out a sigh of relief.
"What was that about?" I asked. "I've barely talked to the guy! Why did he want to hurt me?"
Drew barely looked at me. "I'll tell you later after class. Let's go."
I nodded, surprised that Drew had bothered defending me. He and I weren't friends. We talked every now and then, but we usually ignored each other. We were part of different cliques, and we had nothing in common. I just assumed he was guilty for telling Jacob a lie about me and didn't want to be the blame for me getting my ass kicked. Didn't really matter at that point. We were late, and I was just thankful I'd be getting to class without injury.
We reached the classroom after the bell rang. Jacob had already sat down in his seat in the far corner of the class and was muttering to two others in his clique. Our teacher was standing by the door, frowning as he watched us approach. Thankfully, he decided against admonishing us for being late, not that he ever would. Mr. McDonald was pleasant – firm but lenient - and a great teacher. He was usually a lot of fun; he almost made math enjoyable. I'd never seen him punish anyone for tardiness so long as they didn't disrupt class.
He was holding a stack of papers. Drew took one and thanked him before sitting down next to Jacob and his group. I smiled at Mr. McDonald before taking one of my own. I barely looked at the page, searching for an empty seat. Everyone had shown up today, and most of the desks were occupied. My friends had reserved a seat near them, so I climbed over backpacks and legs to join them.
Garrett was to my left. Curly haired, face brim with freckles, and an everlasting smile. He had the brightest grin on his face as I sat down, nudging me before I could ever put my backpack on the ground.
"Seen the rules, yet, Arthur?" He asked knowingly.
"Rules?" I repeated. "Like the classroom rules?" The ones we went over at the beginning of class months ago. "I saw them when we all saw them."
He shook his head and tapped his own sheet. "Please, like Mr. McDonald would tell us the class rules when we're nearly done with the semester. Read them!"
I glanced down at the sheet on my desk. What drew my eyes was the giant ornate title which I immediately recognized. "Nuzlocke rules," I whispered, feeling my heartrate quicken with anticipation. That phrase only meant one thing. I scanned the page to confirm my suspicions.
"These sound suspiciously like a certain video game we play," I said. I looked to my left to the classroom video game expert and one of my best friends: Quinton. Quinton had a rounded face and a bulky body, and his eyes gleamed behind his rounded spectacles. "What do you think?"
He turned to me and smiled happily. "I think this is going to be an exciting class."
"This is Pokémon stuff, right?" Garrett asked, pointing to the name 'Pokémon' typed in one of the rules.
I nodded, too excited to be sarcastic. "Nuzlockes are tough, though," I replied. There were four primary rules written on the list, but the most important rule was nowhere to be seen. "Although this technically isn't a Nuzlocke, right?"
"Not without the death clause," Quinton agreed. "I simply hope he'll be dramatic when he reveals it."
"Death clause?" Garrett repeated. "Last I checked, Pokémon don't die."
"That's what makes Nuzlockes special," Quinton replied. "Pokémon can die."
Max turned around suddenly, somewhat surprising me. "We're playing Pokémon, guys!" He exclaimed happily. He was the most excitable person I knew. His curly blonde hair bounced on his head as he bounced in his seat. "In math! This is a dream come true!"
"This is just going to be a metaphor," Connor replied. He had also turned around, his stoic face looking unconvinced. "We wouldn't be allowed to play Pokémon in class. This will just be like those pieces of candy; we're going to be using them to prove some statistics rule."
"Statistically, most of us would lose in a Nuzlocke," said Quinton. He shrugged. "I suppose that is an appropriate excuse."
"So long as it's fun, I don't care," said Garrett.
The door suddenly closed, startling us from our conversations. Looking up from the clock, I noticed that class should've begun five minutes ago, yet Mr. McDonald – usually punctual – hadn't spoken. He had no more papers in his hands. Instead, he was holding a cardboard box. The noise died down as we waited for our teacher to speak. The moment all looked up at him, he broke into a wide grin and shook the box. The contents within made a crackling sound.
"Who is ready to play some Pokémon?" He asked. Many of us cheered, especially our corner in the back.
"Of course!" Max replied. "We're teenagers, aren't we?" The class cheered in agreement. If there was one game most of us had played, it was Pokémon. Even if several of us had outgrown it, Pokémon was undeniably part of our childhood and had a special place in our hearts.
"Glad to hear it, Max," Mr. McDonald replied. "So I hope you've all read the rules. If you don't fully comprehend, do not worry; there will be plenty of time for you all to memorize them. We will be playing a game of Pokémon today, but it will not be exactly like the game with which you are familiar. Now, I'm sure you're all wondering what is in my hands. The answer is simple: a box." He paused, grinning proudly at his joke. We humored him, mocking groans, and he continued. "Inside this box are the true prize – Pokeballs. I'll go down the rows, and you'll each take one. I'll explain more once everyone has their prize."
He approached the first person as the rest of the class whispered speculation to one another. Garang, the tall, athletic, amiable boy at the front reached into the box and grinned toothily. He pulled out a shiny, red and white metallic ball.
"Open it!" Max called, unable to hold his excitement. Mr. McDonald, loving the drama, paused in front of him to give everyone a chance to see the contents of the Pokeball. Garang also loved the attention, holding the ball in the air and standing up so that everyone was focused on him. Garang clicked the white button on the front, and the ball snapped open, revealing a gold coin inside.
"It's like one of those toys," I whispered. Nobody was paying attention, so I didn't elaborate.
Garang removed the coin and looked at it closely. "What is it?" He asked. "Osha… wott?" He read, mispronouncing it. He looked over at the rest of us in confusion.
"Quinton can help," Garrett announced. "He knows Pokémon better than any of us!"
Garang turned around and raised his coin in the air as if expecting Quinton to be able to decipher it halfway across the room. Quinton hesitated, and then stepped forward. He took the coin and squinted at it.
"Oshawott," he said, pronouncing it correctly. He gave Garang the bare basics of the Pokémon, while Garang stared with a blank expression. Mr. McDonald continued down the row, and many others had questions about their own coins. Quinton decided to follow, giving some basics to everyone who asked.
I did notice a few patterns beginning to form. All five generations were represented, and it seemed all fifteen starters was chosen. The fifteen other Pokémon were the first evolutions of three evolution trees. For example, when Mr. McDonald got to Quinton's empty seat and Quinton had his turn to search the box, he pulled out a choice that made him particularly excited.
"A Beldum," he said. "One of the best Pokémon in the game."
"Nice," I said reassuringly.
There weren't a lot of nice ones, and I was somewhat worried. For example, a girl in the front row – Hannah – got a Pichu. Although some around her told her how lucky she was, I could only think about how weak he was initially. Some other poor choices were Mike's Igglybuff and Dara's Happiny, both pathetic for far too long.
However, there were enough great choices to counter the weaker. John, sitting behind Garang, snagged a Deino, Luke got a Klink of all things, and Connor found an Axew. He held the coin in his hand, staring at it with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
"What the hell is an Axew?" Connor muttered.
"It's strong," I said. "It's really good."
"Never heard of it," he said in response, although my encouragement softened his expression.
I shrugged. It was my turn soon, and my heart was beating quickly. There were a lot of Pokémon still left, and there were a lot of starters. Max pulled out a Trapinch and was getting some tips from Quinton, but I was focused entirely on the box. I put my hand inside, searched, and pulled one out. I had a good feeling about this one. I could feel Garrett's eyes over my shoulder as I opened it and pulled out the coin.
"Charmander," I said, grinning. It was perfect. Garrett patted my shoulder, wishing he'd gotten him.
I stared at my coin with happiness I couldn't believe until Garrett nudged me again. I turned to see him holding his own Pokeball. He opened it and revealed the coin.
"Ralts," I said. "Awesome!"
"I'll take it," Garrett said. "What do you think? Gardevoir or Gallade?"
"Worry about it when you find out its gender," I replied.
All of the Pokeballs had been passed out, and Mr. McDonald tossed the empty box aside. "Now you all have your Pokémon. Quinton, please sit down."
Quinton paused. He was at the corner where Drew's quartet had congregated, and they were staring at him amused.
"Yeah," said Nick. "Sit down!" He pushed Quinton forward, and Quinton tripped over the backpack in front of him. Andrew and Jack reacted quickly, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from falling.
"You alright?" Jack asked. Quinton nodded, his face red and his glasses askew. They helped him to his feet, and Quinton headed back to his desk.
"Seriously, are you okay?" I whispered.
"Fuck them," Quinton muttered. I chuckled nervously, having only heard him swear when he was furious.
"Don't worry about it," I assured him. "They won't last long in a Nuzlocke."
But Quinton remained silent. He took one glance at the front, and all his rage disappeared. His eyes closed and his head dropped to his desk.
"Quinton?" I said, confused. I looked around and saw that all my classmates were sleeping on their desks. Suddenly terrified, I looked up at Mr. McDonald for help.
"I said, Arthur, that it is time for you to go to sleep," he said pleasantly. His voice sounded strangely echoic, almost angelic. My head felt like lead, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I heard a faint snap, and my vision turned black.
I woke up lying face-up in a grassy field. A strong cool wind flowed through my hair, and the sun beat down intensely on my skin. As I groggily opened my eyes, I saw a perfect blue sky above. The sounds of bugs buzzing and birds chirping filled my ears, and for a few brief moments I felt at peace. If this was the afterlife, then I could live here.
Then I sat up, and the terrible reminders that I was still alive immediately rushed to my head. I felt nauseous and had to keep myself from retching. My vision blurred and darkened. My head throbbed violently. And just as suddenly as these came, they left. I felt fine.
I looked around, confused, and saw that my classmates were around me on this grassy field. Drew was kneeling by his friends helping them awake. Jack was rubbing his girlfriend's face to calm her down, while Luke and Andrew were talking amongst themselves. Dylan was staring at the Pokeball in his hand with an intense curiosity. I looked to see Quinton, Max, and Garrett all still asleep, so I helped them wake up and tried my best to keep them from vomiting.
As my friends woke one by one, I took a better look at our surroundings. The field was surprisingly empty; only a single tree stood guarding us, a tire swing hanging from one of its thin branches. Several similar-looking, small houses lined up along a dirt road in the distance. A few were farms, as evidence by the various fields of crops surrounding them. The single most impressive structure was a large rectangular building on the highest point overlooking the town, a column of smoke spewing from its chimney.
Mr. McDonald watched us from underneath the shade of the tree. For once, he looked stern, although that could have simply been him putting on an act. His clothes had changed: he wore a white lab coat instead of his usual business casual outfit. He was also wearing a pair of spectacles, which was curious as he told us he had perfect vision.
"He's changed," I said, nodding at him. Garrett turned to where I was looking and blinked a few times.
"Is that supposed to be Mr. McDonald?" He asked, his voice raw. I patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.
When it seemed like everyone had woken up, Mr. McDonald cleared his throat and walked toward us. "Welcome, students. Or, I believe it is more appropriate to call you Challengers. You have been selected to participate in the Nuzlocke Challenge. You should feel honored."
There was a moment of confusion as we tried to process what he said. We fell asleep safe in our school, and we woke up in the middle of nowhere. Several of us were still trying to understand how we had gotten here.
"This is a kidnapping!" Nick shouted in outrage.
"Where are we?" demanded Andrew. "How'd we get here?"
"Mr. McDonald, I want to go home!" Maggie cried.
I looked around. Nobody was happy to be here, and emotions were turning hostile. Mr. McDonald remained stone-faced, however, and continued unabashed.
"To help you along your journey, you each have three objects. Each object is incredibly important, so I implore you never to lose any of them. Guard them for as long as you are competing, because without them you will be severely handicapped." He raised his arms. "This is Pallet Town, a city in the region of Kanto."
"Kanto?" I repeated. Others familiar with the name did the same, and they looked around in confusion, hoping others could confirm their suspicions.
"I hope to convince you of the importance of this challenge and your cooperation with these items," Mr. McDonald continued. "The first of these items is your Pokeball." He pulled out one of his own. "I would recommend opening yours once more."
There was a rustling as people pulled miniature Pokeballs out of their pockets. There was a collective wisp of air as the white buttons were pressed and the balls tripled in size, and then a large, almost deafening stretch of a laser-like noise as the more intuitive people pressed the button again. White light shot out from each Pokeball and morphed into their respective Pokemon…
…is what I would have said, had there been Pokemon in each ball.
"Mr. McDonald," said Maggie with disgust. "What is this?"
"This is a Moemon," Mr. McDonald replied, picking up his own. The little girl in front of him was wearing a leaf on her head a blue dress. She smiled pleasantly at us and hugged him tightly. "It is identical to a Pokémon in everything but appearance and personality. And, to help you along your journey, the ability to speak English."
We didn't know what to make of this. I myself was looking at my own Charmander with confusion. She, however, was looking at me in awe and fascination. She had large, red eyes and was wearing an orange hoodie which covered her whole body. A tail came out from behind the hoodie, a small flame burning its tip. She seemed unconcerned by the flame; her attention was solely on me. I didn't know how to react to this, but I simply knew at that moment I was looking at one of the most adorable things I had ever seen.
"These are little girls," said Maggie bluntly. "And you want us to travel with them?"
"That's correct," Mr. McDonald replied. "They will help you with your Nuzlocke adventure."
"With all due respect," Maggie continued. "These girls must have families who must be worried about them. If we take them with us, who knows what some of us would do with them? Some of us are certainly not capable of adopting little girls and taking care of them. They aren't emotionally nor mentally prepared for the resonsibilites."
"Pokémon fight, right?" Molly asked. "That's their whole point. So are we supposed to fight with these girls?"
"That is correct," answered Mr. McDonald. Even his stern face faltered at hearing the arguments before him. "I can assure you that they are capable fighters."
"Fight? They're little girls!" Maggie shouted. She pointed at her Bulbasaur. "She's probably five years old! You want us to have her fight?"
"I wanna fight," came a small, but confident voice. I looked at the ground, and my Charmander was looked at the girl intensely. "You don't think we can fight? We're Moemon! We fight! That's what we do!"
Maggie looked at me accusingly. I didn't know what to do, so I leaned forward and picked the Moemon up in my arms. She turned to me and smiled.
"Did I do good?" She whispered, grinning happily. I nodded slowly, staring at her. There was something about her that compelled me to protect her. For the rest of the conversation, I held her in my arms, although I didn't realize until it ended.
"She's been brainwashed," Maggie continued, still glaring at me. "You've done something to them, and now you're forcing them to fight for some sick pleasure. I want to go home, and I'm going to call the police for kidnapping."
"I want to fight, though," said Maggie's Bulbasaur. She looked at her master angrily. "Don't stop me from fighting. I want to fight and to become strong and be the strongest!"
Maggie kneeled down and whispered to her. Meanwhile, Mr. McDonald turned to the rest of us and continued. "I didn't realize this would have such a strong negative feedback."
"She reminds me of my younger sister," said Max. "I wouldn't my sister to fight other girls."
"I suppose the decision is entirely up to you all," said Mr. McDonald. "For those who would wish to continue with the competition, there is a significant prize at the end. You will be known across the land as the victor of the Elite Four, you will win a sizeable sum of cash, and you will earn immense satisfaction by triumphing over all of the others."
"Whatever the reward is, it wouldn't be worth the suffering," argued Maggie. Mr. McDonald ignored her.
"I suppose I must continue for those who might still be interested. Your second item is the watch you each have on your wrists-" It was only at this point that I noticed the strange smartphone device strapped onto my wrist. The screen was much larger than a typical watch. I tapped the screen and it lit my face with a faint green glow. There were three main applications which Mr. McDonald explained as I played with them.
The first application was the map of the Kanto region, but there was a large blue box in Pallet Town. Tapping it zoomed the map in to reveal thirty individual boxes near the edge of town close to the ocean. Turning around, I confirmed that the ocean was behind us, disappearing beyond the horizon. So this had the location of every competitor. But delving further and clicking on my name revealed my Moemon party, which only had my level 5 Charmander. Clicking on that showed her status and her moves.
The second application was untappable, but by going into battle later I was able to discover that it displayed the status of our Moemon and our opponent's Moemon in each battle. This was a typical battle screen, although it had the extra benefit of showing our opponent's type, HP value, and moves as well as our own.
The third and final application displayed the rules of the Nuzlocke Challenge. Glancing over it for the first time, I noticed that a new rule had been added. The rules were as follows:
Rule 1: You may only catch the first Moemon you find on a route. (And here, there was a list of all of the possible locations. At the moment, Pallet Town was grey, the rest green)
Rule 2: Name each and every Moemon you catch and receive.
Rule 3: No matter what you do or where you travel, you must go through the following routes. (And here was a similar list as in Rule 1. Once again, Pallet Town was greyed out while the rest were green)
Rule 4: No matter what you do, you must do the following in order to complete the challenge. (And there was a small list of the main milestones of the game: collecting badges, defeating the Elite Four, traveling through some caves and arriving at particular locations)
Rule 5: Moemon will die if they lose all of their HP. Take care of them.
Arthur:
Charmander
