I read a story once about a man who hated his neighbor. He hated his neighbor so much that many times he had fantasized about killing him, and despite how many times I read the short story I couldn't understand why. Eventually the man killed his neighbor and hid his body in a barrel of wine. I definitely don't know why he killed his neighbor, granted he was a pompous douche, but I don't think that just warrants killing someone. Actually, what gives us the right to kill someone at all? Is there a right, or a situation that permits murder?
I wonder.
My first conscious thoughts revolved around the spiked pain that seemed to echo throughout my body and pulse from my skull. My next few thoughts wondered where I was, that is when I remembered, it all came back to me at once: severed limbs, cries of terror, blood, so much blood, and Samantha's neck suddenly doing a three-sixty.
My stomach had found more contents for me to throw up; the beach is now deserted, crumpled and mangled bodies lay in a strange mud of blood infused sand. I stumble over to Samantha's body, she looks like her normal self, except for the elephant in the room. Her small frame, her trendy clothes, her pale skin, her brown eyes, and long curly brown hair. Her collarbone seems to jut against the inside of her skin, stretching it, to a point that it might just rip. Her lips are open in a half scream of anger and another half shock, matching the glazed over look in her eyes. I push her body off of the slush under her and close her eyes like they do in the movies, symbolizing eternal sleep. But it doesn't look the same, her head is in too odd an angle.
The slush is just a mesh of body, as if the person it had once been had been turned inside out and ripped apart simultaneously. I inspect one of the arms, through the fleshy consistency of muscle and skin I can see the pure white of his bone. It hadn't been a clean separation, in fact, from all the splintering and shrapnel of bone in his arm it seemed like it had blown up from inside the marrow.
"Patrick," I mumble. My body is in shock and I can't stop the shivers that run up and down my spine. I take in a deep and long breathe, even the air tastes of blood.
Why am I alive? Out of all these people, why am I the only one still alive? Why? I was definitely going to die, I felt it in the creature. It desperately wanted to kill me, and I was in so much pain I wished it just would. And then I would be free from the pain, the loneliness, the boredom, the obligation, everything. Why hadn't it killed me?
No, why am I disappointed that it didn't?
They say the deepest and darkest emotions of your life are brought out by life or death situations, and how you react is who you really are, I hadn't bought it. I had thought that I knew who I was, especially when shit hit the fan, a cowering wimp asking for death wasn't exactly what I pictured. I wasn't going to pretend to be some action hero or some crazy shit like that, but I thought I'd handle myself with more grace.
No matter how hard I tried fighting back my tears, they just came rushing, and I sat down. I sat down on a beach and cried. I sat down on a beach littered with dead bodies and cried. I sat down on a beach, soaked in blood from all the dead bodies, next to my neighbor whose neck had been snapped and boyfriend had been blown up from the inside out.
And I cried.
I held myself there and placed my head between my knees and just let the tears pour. I let my fear take over me and I pity myself. Not those who had died, but myself. For being in this situation and wanting to die and not wanting to die at the same time. For being surrounded by my dead neighbors and peers whom I had known all my life. I pitied myself for pitying myself. And all I want is for it to stop.
I hear screams, at first I think they are just in my head, but they get louder and more panicked as time progressed, then explosive snaps and cracks fill the still air with noise. The Mesprit must have moved on, being done with its rampage here. I look over the surrounding tree tops, smoke rises in a single and giant column. It's coming from town.
The people who I had grown up with, the people I loved but hadn't realized, are in danger. Yet, I couldn't move. My body stayed weighted to the ground, as if all my weight had condensed into a small point and then pitted itself in my stomach, I can't move. I don't want to move. Even if there was something for me to do, someone to help, I won't do it. I don't want to die like they will, like cattle ready for the slaughter.
Isn't it strange how easily we can switch?
"I'm sorry mom, I'm so sorry," I cried into my arm already writing her off as dead. The woman that had raised me, the woman I love dearly, and I had already decided she was a lost cause.
At some point I had fallen asleep.
I woke up feeling hollow and cold; the weight that had been pushing me down was gone, but left stress in my body, I am still shaking. Standing up, I look around me, morning had come and with it came a settled thick white fog that clung close to the ground, and it almost hid the bodies. The morning sky is overcast, solemn gray clouds drift softly in the light breeze with their swollen bellies filled to the brim with water, threatening rain.
My world felt gray, if colors could be feelings, my mind was at a middle ground. The world I thought I knew, the world I thought I hated, changed, into something worse. I drag my feet and walk slowly on the familiar path back to town, the same path I used to trek almost daily as a child. Except this path is somehow different, and I fear it will take me somewhere that was never my home.
I walk, numb, conscious of my own consciousness and not much else. Definitely not the broken crumpled bodies that lay dead in the grass, or the smell of burning meat, definitely not flesh. Definitely.
Twinleaf is foreign to me, like some alien planet that had once looked like my home, felt like my home, but was just so foreign at the same time. Maybe I mean an alternate reality, because this is how I felt, it couldn't be real.
A bad acid trip. Except I hadn't taken acid, ever.
"Maybe someone slipped it into my drink," I mumble to myself, only partially aware of Ms. Sawyer from down the street's body bent awkwardly against the fence post. No, not bent. Impaled.
Fire had plagued the old houses and brought them down as fast as the flu, smoke curled into the air and clung softly to the ground. I walk past the children's park, I can already see the twisted metal of the swing set, and something suspiciously similar to blood. I didn't want to look.
The pokemart had been decimated, the front half completely blown off, almost like the wind had blown it away and left the other half perfectly untouched. I reach my street and pause, looking over the row of houses, some burning, others nothing but splinters. I can't help notice the blotches of blood along the sidewalk.
My thoughts drift back to whether the people of earth had been stuck in purgatory, now the bland yet peaceful beauty seems like heaven, and this must be hell. Heaven and Hell aren't separate places, they are one in the same, lying inside of purgatory, wearing the nothingness like a skin. A mask for the truth of evil beneath.
Only through regret and retrospect can this be revealed, a change of perspective. That is when hell reveals itself and heaven is lost.
My home had collapsed in on itself, well mostly, the front was no longer structured in fact it is no longer anything more than debris; splintered wood, twisted metal, even the remnants of the large and clunky family TV from the living room. I make my way around the back, and kick down the back door, having forgotten my keys. I figured it doesn't really matter at this point.
The rest of the house looks relatively untouched, the kitchen and most of the upstairs had been maintained; finding myself famished, I walk into my kitchen and open a cupboard and grab whatever is closest, a can of chili. I didn't really want to test the fridge, since the electricity seems to be out. That would be a mess for sure. I eat quickly and breathe out my relief, mom was nowhere to be seen. She'd probably gotten away, she had to be safe, probably hiding out in the woods with the other survivors. If there are any, no, there had to be some.
I'll look after I finish my meal.
That doesn't take long, I decide to explore what remains of my home. The parlor, kitchen, basement, garage, and entire upstairs seem untouched; except the stairs had been destroyed, along with the living room and games room. This is no problem since I can easily climb to the second floor from outside using a ladder from the garage.
I feel the urge to explore the rooms above, for no reason what's so ever. I obviously have time to kill, since no one seems to be around. I walk through the bedrooms of my brother and parents, looking for nothing in particular, pausing a bit at the family portrait in the hallway between our rooms. My brother obviously takes after my father, both obnoxiously blond and energetic, even in the still photo they both seemed to be vibrating, then there was my mom and I, it was obvious who I took after. We both share the same close mouthed smile and large cheeks, however her brown eyes seem to glow with a gentle understanding and kindness, unlike mine.
I stare at the photo for what feels like forever before moving onto my room.
My room is exactly how I left it, my clothes strewn around the room, and my useless junk cluttering top of my desk and shelves. The clothes I had worn the day before rest on my unmade bed.
I had forgotten the existence of the egg entirely, honestly who could blame me. I chuckle to myself, if Barry had found out I left his egg to be amongst the attack of a deadly god he probably would want my head. Or not. It isn't really a situation one is in regularly.
I find myself laughing, hard. It was almost manic in nature, and unlike a normal laugh it hadn't made me feel any better. I grab the egg, and tuck it under my arm. Without another thought I left, grabbing nothing else.
I push away the memories of my childhood; warm memories of running through the halls with my brother at my heels or afternoon naps in the living room and the countless family meals. I take one last look at my home filled with dread and a feeling that I'd never see it again. Without another glance I turn and walk away in silence.
The eerie quiet was broken by a loud crash and the unmistakable sound of breaking wood. I follow the echo of sound, and find a tall thin silver building in its place, then it moved. Upon closer inspection, the "building" became more serpent like, moving its body left and right in sway, mesmerizing yet terrifying. The serpent began to coil its tail under itself, as if it was ready to spring, even coiled the monster is colossal. Standing at almost 25 feet and about as wide as a dump truck and made almost entirely out of metal.
I don't think anything is scarier than a giant snake as wide as a dump truck and made out of metal. Honestly, try and top that; it lunged, fire dripping out of its massive jaws. Missing whatever it was it wanted to hit, the behemoth crashed into a house and basically split it in two. Whatever remained of the house was completely annihilated by a beam of energy, to make it worse the monster used the energy beam like he was swatting at a fly causing the death beam to incinerate chunks of sidewalk and slice homes perfectly in half.
It took me a moment to realize what the beast was aiming for, practically the size of a fly compared to the massive pokemon, Mesprit dashed frantically around trying to avoid the certain death by hyper beam.
"I'd get out of here if I were you," a girl says, the voice is faintly recognizable and calm, as if the battle before us was a common sight. I turn to see someone I hadn't expected, well I guess I should get over surprises at this point.
It was the silver haired girl from the pokemart, the one with the fucked up pants.
I was so shocked I probably said something intelligent like, "Rumaferg."
She ignored me and focused on the battle, Mesprit launched futile blasts of psychic energy into the steelix's belly, but the monster ignored them and leapt after the demon once more.
"Go, Reily," the silver haired girl called out while tossing a pokeball into the fray. The pokemon that appeared is small, standing at a measly three feet. It's bigger than the Mesprit, but dwarfed compared to the steelix. Well so was I, but this pokemon more so.
The pokemon wears a red head dress which pops compared to its thin sickly black skin; long wicked curved claws stretch from its paws, I could only imagine their various uses like slicing open someone's stomach and playing around with their insides. I recognize the pokemon as weavile, the sharp claw pokemon.
Reily the weavile darts towards the steelix, launching shards of ice like knives as it runs. Mesprit is paying too much attention to the 30 foot metal snake to notice the shards of ice, but definitely noticed when one of them pierced its abdomen. Distracted, the steelix is able to blind side the god-like pokemon with its tail, sending it crashing into a nearby house.
The weavile is able to catch up with the steelix and uses the long metallic body of the monster to climb and the monsters head as a springboard to jump, throwing more knife like shards of ice in the process before it quickly prepares its claws to attack. Mesprit blocks the oncoming onslaught of sharpened ice with a psychic blast, but failed to send Reily back with them.
The weasel esq pokemon swings its sharp claws wildly at Mesprit, who scrambles to dodge and avoid the attacks.
"What are you doing?" I ask the girl.
She brushes aside some of her silver hair and smirks, "My job."
"Your… Job?" I say aimlessly.
Her weavile corners Mesprit against a stone wall that once had supported a home, Reily slashes Mesprit across the chest and draws blood, when almost an instant later steelix crashes through the stone wall. Its massive jaws surround the emotion pokemon and prepare to clamp shut, when Mesprit vanishes, popping up an instant later a few feet to the left.
Mesprit sends another psychic blast into steelix's side, managing to somehow knock over the behemoth and cause Reily to scramble away out of fear of being crushed; the monster takes the opportunity to turn on the attacking trainer. The air surrounding us begins to ripple with energy as psychic energy and pours out of the god in waves, debris is levitated into the air before being spun into a twister of devestation.
The Castelian girl's smirk disappeared and her eyes flared in fear, "We should run, like right now." She grabs my hand and tugs me along with her, that's when the first car is launched from the tornado; the automobile lands with a heavy crash into a nearby house. She didn't need to pull me after that and I soon matched her sprint; we darted between the ruin of homes, running nowhere in particular.
Her pokemon had recovered and thrown themselves back into the action; the steelix lunges futilely at the teleporting monster while Reily dodges various projectiles and somehow manages to launch counter-attacks at the same time. The two worked in perfect tandem against the god, but Mesprit had gained too much momentum and easily returned their assaults matching them blow for blow.
I clutch my egg tightly against my chest as we slow our sprint to a stop, I take in heavy breaths and focus on not throwing up.
"What… exactly… is… your… job?" I ask between gasps for air. She lets out a steady breath and easily regains her composure.
"To catch that monstrosity," she answers evenly.
"Why would you do that?" I ask."I'm a pokemon trainer," she answers blankly. It became apparent that I wouldn't get any real information from her, because no one in their right mind would try to fight that demon. She reaches for her belt and grabs two more pokeballs and releases the beasts inside.
Soon a humanoid with four arms and an excessively large avian dart off towards battle, launching everything into further chaos; I recognized the avian as a braviary and the humanoid as a machamp.
The braviary swooped in, clawing at the god's back with its talons gaining its attention, but before a counter-attack could be launched, machamp slams its fists into the side of Mesprit sending it sprawling, allowing weavile to close in with another ice attack.
"This is where it gets messy," the girl says. Her pokemon circle the Mesprit, trapping it between them. As if in unison the four pokemon attack, the steelix and machamp launching themselves at the devil while braviary and Reily attack from a distance with a variety of ice and wind attacks. In almost an instant the battlefield explodes, as a super charged psychic blast throws all four pokemon backwards. In the confusion, Mesprit is able to launch machamp with a psychic blast, it soon catches up and forces the muscle pokemon back down with mental restraints.
Its golden eyes glow with malevolence; energy flows freely through the air as machamp writhes in pain.
"Hank!" the trainer girl screams. Hank, the machamp, unleashes a blood curdling wail as more and more energy flows from Mesprit.
One of Hank's right arms began to swell, a bubble had formed in the bicep and inflated little by little with every passing moment. Its screams became louder and more panicked as his muscles were stretched to their limits, Hank kicked out and flailed in despair, throwing punches and reaching out with its other arms trying to do something but accomplishing nothing.
"Terra! York! Save Hank!" the girl yells. York, the braviary, and Terra, the steelix, charge towards Hank in a futile effort. Hank's muscle had stretched too far and the bubble had popped; its arm exploded, spraying blood, shredding muscle, and launching bone shrapnel into the dirt.
Mesprit seemed to smirk over Hank's limp body, shaking off any blood that had sprayed on its coat. We stood in silent horror as the demon turned to face us, its metallic gold eyes stared us down and a complacent smile seemed to form crooked on its mouth. The bastard was pleased with itself. The Castelian girl fell to her knees and began to sob into her hands.
I stood there, dumb with shock, unable to do anything. I watch helplessly as the demon inches its way closer to us and I can feel the bile already rising in my throat. It had stopped not three feet away from where I stood.
I am brought to my knees by a head splitting headache as a raspy voice cuts through the air like a rusty knife, "Until next time."
And just like that the monster was gone.