Snowpoint House

Sneasel

Please note, this between sections are the Pokemon's stories, not what Clarise is reading. Don't worry, it's pretty much the same, but this is more interesting. And, as always, I do not own Pokemon.

I didn't understand why a Pokémon would want to be trained.

Maybe I was naïve. Or maybe I was just plain ignorant. I was the middle child of a family of nine and had absolutely nothing special about me. My older siblings had long since left, to explore more exotic climates. My younger siblings were still imagining battles and acting out triumphant scenes, throwing Apricorns for the others to catch.

I was expected to help around the household. I never saw the appeal in training.

And yet, when out on an errand, I met a being so strange, so unusual, I instantly felt something between us. And when he saw me, I'm sure he felt the same. Cautiously, I approached him, and he accepted my presence, and we walked together.

That was when my eyes were opened. I saw, and my heart swelled with joy. With Sam, my new friend, I met all kinds of new Pokémon, I encountered a whole manner of new situations, and most importantly, I was free.

I was free.

So what's happened now?

I'm trapped, caged. I didn't become strong enough, and so I was put away. I am nothing now: I am broken. My heart no longer beats; my lungs no longer take air. I am not alive. I am imprisoned here, in this half-life. I have no more hopes or dreams.

I trusted him. And this is how he repays me.

I float in nothingness. If I had form, it would lack enough energy to even attack him. I feel like there should be tears rolling down my face, but there is nothing. No moisture can exist here, in this god-awful place, lest it destroy itself. And then I would cease to exist.

My data travels here. My mind does not. I have no idea how I am able to think. At most, I am aware of myself. After that, thoughts are a struggle. But one thing is clear. When I get out of here, I am going to kill him.

First, I will claw across his stomach. Then, I will go for the face. I will drink his flowing blood before I finally draw out his heart and eat it. I will enjoy every bite of his life-giver. It will restore what life he took away from me.

That boy will die by my claws. Mark my words.

"BREAKING NEWS!

A boy has been killed at the Snowpoint Pokémon Centre after a Sneasel he released from storage mortally attacked him. Said Sneasel has escaped into the wild but is considered dangerous and should not be approached. The Pokémon should be recognised by a notch in its left ear and a star-shaped marking on its chest. Trainers are being advised NOT to attempt capture and to call the following number should the Pokémon be sighted…"

I watched through the window of a human's house. So, they were hunting for me? I decided that, if they dared come near, I would slaughter them, like I had slaughtered Sam.

In the snow behind me, I had left bloody footprints. I let them be, jumping to the rooftops and heading for the lake. I paused for a second to lick a drop of blood from the tip of my claws.

It would be cliché to say revenge was sweet. To my taste buds, it was slightly salty.