COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Pokemon / Pocket Monsters, Resident Evil / Biohazard, Night of the Living Dead, or Greater Love Hath No Man by John Ireland

COMMENTS: FYI, this chapter is stylized a bit differently than previous ones, and contains an interspersed first-person POV/monologue. In case readers get confused, the italicized monologue's thoughts are entirely Brock's (yes, he's back…along with many other characters, whom I think some reviewers are under the impression I "forgot" about. Heh, guess again. Check out the size of this fic…we're FAR from done!).

Before we begin, I've gotta' shout-out – To Autumn: It kills me that I haven't replied to your reviews (it's hard for me to find the time to verify anonymous reviews and reply to them). But you've been so faithful to review this story so quickly (and review other fics of mine), so here's my special (belated) thanks. You deserve it!

* Content Disclaimer: This chapter contains heavy gruesomeness/violence (more excessive than previous chapters). When it comes to the material in this particular chapter, all I'm going to say is "I did warn readers in Chapter 1's opening notes." Reader discretion is advised.

Yes, this chapter is ridiculously long. Sorry. I actually attempted to slice it into 2 parts, but for some reason they just didn't have the same effect as this big chapter. Hopefully, this chapter is worth it. Enjoy!


CARNAGE NECROPOLIS

Aiselne Phoenix

FILE #004: "Outbreak at the Pokemon Center"

I have to…hold on…

Ash…Misty…they need me…

Dammit…it hurts but…

I…I can…beat this.

Yes…

That's what…I always told Ash…right?

"Don't…give up."

Yes…

Misty wouldn't like it…if I didn't follow my own advice…would she?

Neither would Ash…

Heh…they'd be…angry if I gave up. Then I'd have to suffer…Misty's mallet. Ash tells me…that thing really hurts…heheh…

Argh…ow…though I…argh…I guess a mallet…can't hurt much more than…this.

But I…I have…to hold on.


The clock was ticking.

Dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong…dong.

A spherical backlit clock of a watchtower resembled a full bloodless moon, suspended over downtown Acheron City. Eleven clock chimes proclaimed the hour as Nina led Ash and Misty back to the Pokemon Center. Eleven o'clock. Had only two hours passed since Ash, Misty, and Nina first set foot in Acheron City? Had they really only spent about an hour at the police station? Somehow, the time span felt longer…excruciatingly longer. Undoubtedly, this hellish evening was guaranteed to be the longest night of their lives.

Nina had studied a basic map of Acheron City prior to her and Tauris' assignment. It was just one of the many necessities needed to prepare themselves for the Acheron investigation. Else, the Valhalla agents would be foolish to enter a city without knowing their way around it. The policewoman may not have been native to Acheron, but she knew where to go, and knew the vicinities of helpful passageways, and major landmarks. The Acheron Pokemon Center was northernmost, and the Acheron Police Department northeastward.

Southernmost was the Acheron Chemical Plant, the farthest district from Nina's current position. According to Tauris, there was an evacuation route through the plant, but it was also a so-called "hot zone." Nina knew what hot zones were: the most viral area in Acheron City. Technically, all of Acheron was a hot zone, so the chemical plant was like the "hot zone within a hot zone." In a way, she believed Tauris' words. Apparently Nina, Tauris, Ash, and Misty entered Acheron's northern entrances. That area of the city had its share of zombies, but was also relatively untouched.

However, piecing together Tauris' vague words, Nina was beginning to understand why north Acheron's damage was minor. Conversely, northeastward's damage was more severe…the further south one went, the worse the viral damage. It was bitterly ironic: traveling southbound in Acheron City was identical to traveling southbound into Hell. Southern Acheron City was the most prominent hot zone, conveniently where the proclaimed chemical plant stood. Northern areas like the Pokemon Center, Nemi's Restaurant, and Misty's perfume shop were the farthest from the virus' clutches.

Nina was not looking forward to her inevitable trip to the Acheron Chemical Plant.

But Nina soon learned…the virus was indeed spreading. The northwestern police station was in ruin. However, as she, Ash, and Misty backtracked north through alleys leading to the Pokemon Center, Nina could not help but realize "traffic" was getting heavier near the Center. More zombies were up and about, and more blood painted the streets, far more than the trio recalled when first venturing here. It was trickier returning to the Center without attracting attention. Nina and the kids had to creep slower through allies, since noisily shooting or attacking zombies would only alert the creatures' attentions. The last thing the trio needed was a whole stampede of undead monstrosities following them. It was wiser to remain as stealthy as possible and avoid unnecessarily combat.

Plus, Nina still was not convinced that zombies were the 'only' demons this city had to offer. That gut feeling she acquired at the A.P.D. still had yet to diminish. If anything, the foreboding chills only got colder and more antagonizing when the Pokemon Center's sign appeared nearby. Nina felt as though the building's sign silently screamed, "do not come back here, you fool!" Unfortunately, turning back and running away was never an option in this nightmarish city.

The city seemed colder, more chilling, than the trio last recalled. Two blocks away from the Pokemon Center, Nina and her companions crept through a brick alley in between a hair salon and bookstore. Traversing the open streets was suicide, so Nina stuck with as many empty alleys as possible. Of course, the alleys were not excruciatingly safer, either. True, they were guaranteed to have fewer zombies, but the alleys were darker, too. Nina knew a bright flashlight would attract unwanted attention, so she had to rely on bare eyesight. Thankfully, she had two extra sets of eyes with Ash and Misty behind her, and the kids were vigilant. Everyone had to be observant and look out for each other if they wanted to get out of this city alive.

Sadly, creeping in alleys was a painfully slow process that ate away at the young children's consciences. With zombies multiplying in the area, the survivors were considerably slowing down. It was nearly impossible to run without being noticed. Neither the patient types, Ash and Misty began to feel particularly edgy to reach the Center. The slower they walked, the faster Brock might di-

No…no! Don't think like that!

Chief Ulisse's haunting words did not help Ash and Misty's concentrations, either.

"Hehehehe…silly kids…silly…silly…vaccine no work…if wait too long…hehehe…hurry hurry…clock ticks…ticks…ticks…"

The clock was ticking.

Ash and Misty knew they could not afford to take their sweet time creeping in alleys. Every step they took felt like an hour transpired. The Pokemon Center's bright neon sign always seemed in the distance, never close enough for the kids to reach. And Brock…dear God, how much time had the kids wasted at the police station? Based on the clock tower's chiming reports, the A.P.D. trip only lasted a little over an hour. True, the trip to the police station was not in vain, since Ash and Misty got the vaccine they sought. But why did it feel like ages had passed since they last walked the streets near the Pokemon Center? How many minutes, hours, days had passed since they last saw Brock? Yes, "days" was a gross exaggeration, but after everything that happened tonight, Ash and Misty felt like years had passed. Everything felt like it was now moving at a snail's pace, while Brock's potential death was probably rushing towards him at the speed of light! It was as though Ash and Misty were competing in a race against the Grim Reaper, and the rigged odds were undeniably in Hell's favor…

NO!! Stop thinking like that, dammit!! Brock's strong! He'll be okay!

Impatience and dread warped Ash and Misty's young minds like fire bending metal; melted and twisting, and on the verge of snapping.

"Should never come here…silly silly kiddies…blame Rockets, yes…for spill…blame YOURSELVES…for stupidly…coming here."

Which corroded the sanity faster: an infectious virus, or guilt?

"Hurry hurry…clock ticks…ticks…ticks…"


Why is it…so hard for me…to see?

It's getting dark…

Oh…that's right…we arrived by nine o'clock. What…what time is it…now?

Does it…matter?

Probably…not.

So cold…so…wet…sticky…I'm covered…soaked…

Why am I…all wet?

Oh…don't you remember…Brock? Ash and Misty just splashed you…remember? At the beach? You just…teased them for their splashing fight. Said' it was…er…'suggestive' of them to be…wearing swimsuits and wresting…on top of each other…in water. Heheh…Ash didn't quite catch on…but Misty sure did. She splashed you first…Ash followed suit. All wet…laughing…smiling…warm memories…

So…now…why am I not…laughing?

Maybe…because…because this isn't funny?

No…

Maybe…because…I know I'm not…really…at the beach?

No…

Maybe…because…I know…this wetness isn't saltwater…but…red…sticky…

Yes…

Maybe…because…I know…what's going to happen to me…

Yes.

I can feel it…the pain…swimming through my veins…

Eating me alive.

There's not much of…me…left. Scraps…

Scraps…not enough…for Ash and Misty to hold on to.

No.


Red-rimmed glass crunched underneath one of Nina's black combat boots. Such was the only sound she, Ash, and Misty heard as they stood before the Acheron City Pokemon Center. The massive building towered over them, three stories tall, with a background-like canvas of pitch-black sky with bullet hole-sized stars. Pokemon Centers were commonly revered as a Pokemon trainer's safe haven, where they could rest and recover themselves and their Pokemon. The only possible reasons a person might fear a Center was in the event they were rushing a severely wounded Pokemon into it. Otherwise, the Pokemon Center was usually a location that instilled calmness, relief, and safety: a true paragon of security in the midst of a hellish city.

Unfortunately, Acheron's Pokemon Center was anything but a safe haven.

For Ash, this was the first time he visited the massive building. However, this was Misty and Nina's second trip to the Pokemon Center. Once again, it felt like eons had passed since Misty and Nina last visited the Center. Acheron's Pokemon Center was now a mere shadow of its former self. The electricity was still on, illuminating the building's neon sign, but inside lights flickered like lightning. There were broken windows aplenty, and a walkway with a thick trail of carmine blood leading in and out of the smashed sliding entrance doors. Misty and Nina barely recognized the building! Sure, their last visit to the Center had its share of damages, but never to this colossal extent. The Center now better resembled a derelict.

If this was not proof that Acheron's virus was spreading like wildfire, nothing was. These zombie waves were increasing in numbers, storming through town just like the virus plague that infected them. Yet, as Nina carefully surveyed the area, the damages seemed a tad different than the A.P.D.'s. For one thing, windows on top floors were shattered! Why? Nina supposed some people fell, or jumped, out windows during the gruesome madness, but it did not seem very plausible. Surely, no zombie would have broken upper-floor windows to break in, unless Acheron's sauntering zombies possessed incredible jumping skills. Hell, to break into a third story window, the zombies would probably have to climb or fly! Nina was willing to believe many things in this asinine city, but 'flying zombies' were a stretch even for her imagination.

Then again…recalling those snarls she heard at the A.P.D….Oh God, Nina tensed, pointing her revolver in all locations to sweep the area. Granted, she still had Tauris' shotgun strapped over her shoulder. Yet, the noisy weapon was something Nina preferred to use for a last resort, in the event there were indeed worse things crawling around Acheron than just human zombies.

Staying close to Nina, Ash and Misty could not keep their eyes off the dilapidated Center. Misty, especially, felt as though some omnipotent god watching her struggles in Acheron was laughing hysterically. She left Brock in that building, and God only knew what happened in the Center after Misty and Nina went to find Ash and the vaccine. The girl's conscience felt like a knotted rope incessantly tugged harder and harder. How stupid could she have been to leave Brock alone? Then again, Misty was not strong enough to carry his unconscious body all over the city, at least without slowing down and being a prime target for zombies. It was suicide to take Brock with her, and it was suicide to leave him alone, too: "damned if one does, damned if one does not." Misty knew she had no other choice. But now, in just an hour, the Pokemon Center must have been ambushed like the police station, meaning…

"Brock…"

Before she even knew what was happening, Misty was running. Faster and faster, too quickly for her mind to realize what her body was doing. Glass and gravel kicked up underneath her clamoring sneakers. The redhead rushed through the smashed entrance doors, into a dim, bloodstained lobby filled with toppled chairs, gurneys, plant stands…all a blur to her aqua eyes. Misty was not typically the one to run blindly into a situation, but her dread for Brock's wellbeing drove the girl forward. Misty was, after all, carrying the vaccine vial. As if the capsule burned in her pocket, Misty could not wait to relieve herself of the burden, plunge that needle into Brock's arm, and save his life.

Misty never heard the glass crunch under her shoes, or Ash and Nina call out to her…nothing. The only thing Misty heard was her heart in her ears, each throb more painful than the last. Her legs pumped adrenaline that only seemed to intensify the pressure, building up an explosion inside her will. Pounding…pounding…

You left Brock alone, Misty…pound…pound…

YOU left him vulnerable!

Pound…pound…pound…

Brock was YOUR responsibility!!

Pound…pound…POUND…

What kind of a friend are YOU?!

Pound…POUND…POUND…POUND…POUND…!

YOU let Brock di-

Brock was nowhere to be seen…

"Hey!!"

…But Misty did find someone, or more specifically…ran into someone.

Everything was a blur, and Misty was not entire sure 'what' happened until she hit the filthy floor of the dark Center lobby. Landing on her hip, the girl winced as pain shot through her body like an electric current. Just as quickly, reality finally sank back into her like a bullet, driving away her old fears for Brock, and replacing them with entirely new fears. Once her eyes came back into focus, Misty finally noticed that lying down right next to her was a body…a reddened body…

…A reddened moving body!

The terrified red-haired girl would have screamed, had the other body not been accompanied by a crabby "Oww…argh…dammit, twerpette, watch where you're going!"

Eyes blinking, Misty sat upright, peering down to the taller red body sprawled beside her. The younger girl's eyesight clearing, the "body's" redness focused as long magenta-red hair across a familiar white and black uniform. The woman then pulled herself to her knees, placing a gloved hand over her throbbing head before narrowing sapphire eyes at the younger girl.

Misty was not sure which stunned her more: the minor collision, or the identity of whom she accidentally crashed into. "Jessie?!"

"Jessie!!!"

As if on cue, several pairs of footsteps scampered into the wrecked lobby. Behind, Misty could hear Nina and Ash. Conversely, in front of her came none other than James and Meowth running to their fallen teammate. As if synchronized, the pairs met together by the fallen redheads, extending hands to help the young women to their feet. Jessie, in particular, seemed to limp to her feet whilst James assisted her. Misty bit her lip, feeling guilty for possibly hurting the woman. Knowing temperamental Jessie, the red-haired Rocket would not think anything of it.

After lending Misty a hand, Ash then turned his attention to the thieves while the girls brushed themselves off. In some ways, he was not surprised to see Jessie, James, and Meowth, since the three stooges always had a talent for showing up at inopportune times. Any second, Jessie, James, and Meowth would start babbling their ridiculous motto, attempt to steal the Center's Pokemon, or some foolishness Ash and his friends did not have time to humor.

However, for the most part, Ash was really not surprised to see the trio, considering they were members of Team Rocket

"…Those Rocket fools…thought they knew what they were doing…nope nope."

"…They screwed around with…the virus…it leaked…sucks for them…heheh."

Narrowing his brown eyes, Ash felt his notorious temper flare again. Only this time, he was not about to lash out at Chief Ulisse. "I should've known you three would be here!" the boy suddenly blurted out, causing the lobby's occupants to perk via his angered pitch.

Blinking strangely, Jessie and her cohorts exchanged curious glances before looking back at the black-haired boy. Folding her arms across her chest, Jessie grunted at the bratty boy. "What're you talking about, twerp?" she asked rather suspiciously, cocking her head haughtily. Ordinarily, the woman rarely concerned herself with whatever Ash rambled. The boy was notorious for spouting self-righteous crap that churned her stomach, more so than the sights of Acheron's rotten undead. Yet, tonight, Jessie could have sworn she heard accusation in the kid's voice.

"Don't play dumb!" spat Ash, stomping a step forward and unintentionally grinding dead leaves spilled from a toppled plant stand nearby. A voice inside Ash claimed now was not the time to pick fights, but… "We know Team Rocket caused all this! They owned the chemical plant! Why else would you three be here?!"

Jessie shot the kid an incredulous eye roll. The boy was not too bright, was he? Had Ash not realized the one and only reason Jessie, James, and Meowth always followed him was to eventually steal his damned Pikachu? True, such were the original intentions why the Rocket thieves entered Acheron City. But now, after being chased through the city by those 'things,' Pikachu was the last thing on Jessie's mind.

In fact, right now, the only thing that caught Jessie's attention was "'Chemical plant'?" Jessie repeated to herself, raising her eyebrows and exchanging another round of weird expressions with her partners. "What chemical plant?"

"The chemical plant Team Rocket used to infect this city!" Ash blasted, feeling his anger burn brighter with Jessie's poor act of playing ignorant. Each time she denied her team's involvement, Ash felt the dial on his temper turn to more dangerous levels. He somehow managed to control himself in Ulisse's presence, but now…events were starting to take their toll on Ash. He was angry, tired…scared. Acheron was a viral nightmare, so many people died, Brock was dying…Ash's already short fuse was cut shorter. The boy was dangerously close to lashing out irrationally and emotionally, and Jessie, James, and Meowth just happened to be the first ones Ash took it out on. To Ash, he found it pretty stupid for the Rockets to deny what happened to Acheron. Balling fists and grinding teeth, Ash screamed, "People are dead because of you!"

"Hey! Hey!!" a wide-eyed Jessie shouted defensively. The red-haired woman did not possess a high tolerance level, either. After the rigmarole she and her teammates went through to stay alive, Jessie had better things to concern herself with than the obnoxious tirade of a loudmouthed boy. Jessie ached all over, constantly shifting her weight to balance her exhausted body. "Listen twerp, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. James, Meowth, and I have been running from those…'things'…most of the night. Frankly, I'm tired, I've got a headache, and I am in no mood to listen to your whiny crap!"

"Lairs," Ash snarled, his blood pressure reaching scalding extremes. The boy's entire body shook in white-hot fury. He was ten seconds away from screaming again before a gentle hand found its way to his trembling shoulder. As if possessing divine power, Misty's familiar touch quelled Ash's temper back down to more moderate levels. Never looking back at the girl, Ash bit his tongue and clamped his eyes shut. Seething anger whirled around inside him like a cyclone. He was mad at Team Rocket for instigating the viral outbreak, he was mad at Jessie's ignorance, and most of all…

…Ash was mad at himself for dragging his friends into this city in the first place.

The silent air was still thick with tension. However, Nina took her chances to step forward and address the teenagers in the Team Rocket uniforms. The thieves did not look thrilled to see an Officer Jenny approach them. Of course, Nina had no intentions of slapping handcuffs on them, at least immediately. "It does seem coincidental that Rocket agents would be in Acheron City, considering Team Rocket owns the chemical plant and caused this viral spill." Naturally, Jessie, James, and Meowth's eyes widened in disbelief, as if Nina told them something as outlandish as Clefairy came from outer space. Nina did not personally know these three Rockets, but for whatever it was worth, the trio did seem pretty clueless regarding what was happening around them. "Then again, it isn't entirely uncommon for organizations to keep secrets from their own members…especially when the secret is as serious as Acheron's zombie virus."

The plethora of information stunned Jessie and her partners. They still had no idea what the hell the twerp and Officer Jenny were talking about. However, one thing Nina said was undeniably true. It was not uncommon at all for the Rockets' boss to keep his own agents in the dark. Giovanni was a shady character indeed, and there was no denying that underhanded work was his specialty. Besides, bumbling Jessie, James, and Meowth were not very high on their boss' favorites list. Giovanni never informed the trio about trivial things like Christmas parties, never mind "viruses" and "chemical plants" like Jenny and Ash babbled.

Jessie was suddenly in dire need of sitting down on the lobby's cluttered front desk. The poor woman was tired, achy, irritable, and all she asked for was a good night's sleep. She could deal with this city's madness tomorrow morning after a long respite. Sadly, it was pretty obvious that Mr. Sandman was in no hurry to find Jessie. Hell, in this city, Jessie was willing to assume the damn sandman was probably a friggen zombie…

"'ZOMBIES'?!" Jessie, James, and Meowth suddenly shrieked, apparently thinking identical thoughts. Two seconds later, Jessie leapt off the desk and the Rocket trio engaged in another typical fearful group hug. Holding onto each other tightly for whatever protection they could get, the terrified thieves stammered "You mean...those walking dead monsters that eat people ALIVE?! That's what those 'things' are?!"

"If you can think of a better name for the creatures crawling around this city, be my guest," Nina replied sarcastically, rolling her maroon eyes before re-checking her tampered surroundings. Particular bloodstains indicated struggles, but Nina doubted the Rockets were the strugglers. Nina was surprised to see the Rockets looked unscathed, considering Jessie's earlier lament about being chased by zombies all night. The violet-haired young man was sporting a torn glove, but no bites or cuts tattooed his unblemished, exposed arm. The Meowth, and the red-haired woman in particular, looked exhausted. Then again, who would not be exhausted in this crazy city? Otherwise, the Team Rocket members looked intact.

"Out of curiosity, how'd you three get to this Center, anyway?" Nina asked, coercing the thieves to part from their embrace. "Misty and I came here about an hour ago, and I don't recall seeing you three. Did you just arrive, or did you happen to see what happened to this Center?"

Blinking, the Rockets exchanged rather nervous looks, which sent disturbed chills down Nina, Ash, and Misty's spines. "Well…we've been hiding out in here most of the time…and we were here when those things attacked…" James trailed, scratching the back of his neck as a surprising line of blush tinted his cheeks. Sweatdropping, the older teenager awkwardly chuckled "But…we hid inside a supply closet the whole time and didn't actually 'see' anything."

"Woooobbuffet!!" Wobbuffet popped out and chimed, much to the exasperation of its groaning trainer. Certainly not possessing the patience to deal with her blue blob, Jessie eagerly returned the pain in the ass back to its Pokeball.

If the situation was not so serious, Ash and Misty would have face-faulted and fell over comically.

Raising her eyebrows, "And the zombies never found you?" Nina asked in surprise.

James and his partners blushed and sweatdropped more fervently. "Well…the closet was full of cleaning supplies…sanitizers. The closet was tight for the three of us, and we kinda' knocked over some bottles. But the good news is the chemicals masked our scents, and the zombies couldn't detect us."

"The bad news: the fumes gave me one helluva headache," Jessie grumbled.

Misty never face-faulted or fell over, but she did slap her forehead this time.

Nina felt like slapping her own forehead, but she had to admit: it's not an entirely 'bad' idea. These three idiots might have just stumbled upon a way for us to go through the rest of this city unnoticed, or at least without being smelt. Nina would have to find these masking chemical sanitizers later. Such could prove useful for the group's eventual trip through the chemical plant.

But right now…the survivors had more pivotal things to worry about.

"Listen, I hate to break up this, er, 'reunion'," Nina noted, her eyes darting between Ash's group with Misty, and Jessie's group with James and Meowth. The five characters obviously knew each other, which Nina felt might work in their favor. More survivors working together increased their chances of getting out of this city alive. At least, it increased the odds by a little. "But we've gotta' find Brock. I'm assuming you three Rocket agents haven't seen him around here, have you?"

"The older twerp?" blinked Jessie, for the first time noticing the brown-haired teenager was not tagging along with Ash and Misty. Come to think of it, where was Brock? Even Jessie assumed the lovesick teen would be attached to a pretty Officer Jenny. Wherever a beautiful woman was, Brock and his hormones were never far…though Jessie never understood why the boy never went ga-ga over her. The kid's obviously got no taste, Jessie always assumed, before shrugging to Jenny. "Haven't' seen him. Why?"

Jessie did not think she spoke anything excruciatingly offensive, and yet, she noticed Ash and Misty's faces pale and fall. Brock was nowhere to be seen, and there was no evidence proving he was even inside the Center anymore, or even alive-

"We stand a better chance finding Brock faster if we split up," Nina ordered, grabbing the solemn kids' attentions. Now was not the time for chatter, arguing, or moping. "Three floors…we'll break up into three groups. I'll take the top floor. You guys can break up into whatever groups you feel most comfortable. That is, provided you Rockets care to assist us?" she offered, while she, Ash, and Misty gave their attention to the thieves. "We'd appreciate the help."

Jessie, James, and Meowth gave each other awkward glances. They had helped the twerps before during dire situations. True, the Rocket trio was not thrilled by the comments Ash crudely tossed them, but this Brock issue seemed to carry some weight. Tagging along with the twerps was better than hiding in a stinking closet all night, too. Besides, sticking with the twerps meant Jessie and her crew could follow an Officer Jenny, who seemed to know what the hell was happening in Acheron, and know how to deal with it.

The red-haired Rocket leader, in particular, knew it would be in her team's best interest to follow Nina and the twerps. Doing so increased the survival rate, and might ensure the Rockets protection and…help.

"Fine…" Jessie shrugged, stubbornly acting as though helping the twerps was a big annoying chore. "James, Meowth, and I will take the second floor." Placing her hands on her hips, the blue-eyed woman narrowed her orbs particularly in Ash's direction. "…But you'd better not give us anymore lip, twerp, or we'll leave you brats to fend for yourselves, got it?" Jessie did not totally mean what she said. However, she did not enjoy being falsely accused by the twerp, either, especially since Ash practically dubbed Jessie, James, and Meowth murderers. "We'll help you as long as you quit blaming us for whatever the hell happened here."

It was a fair deal. Apparently, the Team Rocket trio was innocent in this matter, just like Ash and in friends. "Sorry about that," Ash apologized softly, dipping his head gently. He felt Misty's hand offer him an affectionate shoulder rub, a silent way of her telling him she approved, and was proud, of his apology. Ash was way out of line to take out his anger on the Team Rocket trio. Jessie, James, and Meowth were not that bad, at least, they were not bad enough to instigate a viral mass murder. Yet, tonight, it was hard for Ash to stay focused without lashing out at somebody. Brock always scolded Ash for being so darn reckless, never controlling his big mouth, rarely maintaining his temper, and…

Brock…

…If Ash kept thinking about his friend like this…such bittersweet memories…there was no way he could remain composed long enough to search for Brock.

"Then Misty and I will search this floor," Ash confirmed with a determined nod. He had to stay focused. There was no other choice. They had to do this for Brock.

"Alright," nodded Nina. "Let's hurry. We can't afford to stick around here very long, in case Brock left the building." Nina certainly prayed that event never happened, because God only knew where else Brock might be in this huge city. It was going to be challenging enough to find him in the large Pokemon Center. "If anything serious happens, I want us to meet here, got it? Let's move!"


"Shh…just try and conserve your strength, Brock. I promise…I'll be back as soon as I can."

Misty.

Misty…she keeps her promises. Ash too.

I've…made it this far…

I've…suffered worse than this…raising ten siblings by myself…yeah…this is easier…

Kids were always crying…scraped knees, bruised elbows…but mostly…they cried: "Why did…Mommy and Daddy leave? Did they…not love us?"

Those questions…hurt more…than this damned bite ever will.

Kids were always scared…an ice storm…once hit Pewter City…Christmas Eve…

Me and my siblings'…first Christmas…without Mom and Dad…

Ice-loaded branches…snapped…snap…snap…that's all we heard that night.

That…and the vibrating booms…of trees landing on the ground…or houses…

Power lines snapped…darkness…snap…snap…boom…damaged houses…snap…snap…snap…kids got scared…

Little kids…don't like scary things…do they?

No…

But…they don't…have to be scared…with a big brother to protect them.

"It's okay…I'll protect you."

So…don't scare…Ash and Misty.

Hold on.

They're coming…for me…

Ash…Misty…they need…a big brother to protect them…too…

I…I can beat this.


Under her boots, glass was everywhere.

Crunch…crunch…

Blood was everywhere.

Crunch…crunch…

An icy cold breeze swept through the busted third floor corridor windows, overlooking the city.

Crunch…crunch…crunch…

Most of the light fixtures on this floor had been busted. The only available light source Nina had was moonlight, and a few occasional sparks crackling through burst light bulbs.

Crunch…crunch…crunch…crunch…

Otherwise, dead silence.

"Speeeeeaaarr!!!"

"Shit!" Nina squeaked in a hiss, nearly jumping out of her skin when the so-called dead silence was pierced by an ear-piercing shriek. Hear heart practically bursting, the policewoman instinctively pointed her magnum at the cry's origin.

Dead ahead, with tiny claws grappling onto the sill of a moonlit window, perched a small bird Pokemon: wings of brown, off-white, and maroon. Its hook-like beak pointed directly at Nina, much like Nina's gun barrel pointed at the Spearow, as if they were about to face-off. However, the small bird just stood idle, showing no signs of threat. In fact, it busied itself by burying its beak into the crook of a wing to groom itself.

Exhaling a breath previously ensnarled by momentary panic, Nina lowered her gun and let a relieved smile pull her lips. No doubt, this night was starting to take its toll on her nerves. Now she was jumping like a cat over the simple caw of a Spearow! Smartassed Tauris would definitely tease her for such…

Tauris… But now was not the time for that. If she drowned in sorrow over her partner's death, or potential death, then Nina would inevitably add Brock's name to the widening death list, too. Ray, Cleo, Gordon, Tauris, even Ulisse…the list was already too long, and Nina did not intend on adding Brock, or anyone else, to the roster. She could grieve for Tauris later, after this nightmare ended. He'd understand. Nina was not exceptionally religious, but she did believe, one way or another, she would be with Tauris again…someday.

The fluttering of wings drew Nina's attention back to the window. Another Spearow, darker in colors, joined the previous bird. Nina was not overly familiar with Pokemon. She had trained with her department's Growlithe and Houndoom before, but that was her extent of "Pokemon training." Still, Nina was almost inclined to assume the two Spearows perched side-by-side at the window sill were one male and one female: mates. Tauris would have called them literal "lovebirds."

Something twisted inside Nina's chest again.

Nina was not religious, but a part of her wondered if Tauris was with her right now, looking out for her. It was a nice little thought that warmed Nina's insides, but the warmth felt like a tempered blade impaling her heart: warm but excruciatingly painful. It was the kind of pain suffered after losing a loved one.

It was the kind of pain Nina did not want to subject Ash and Misty towards. So, biting back the hurt, Nina pressed onward, picking up her pace to sweep the filth-covered third floor. Papers, glass, and dirt ground under her boots as she checked nearby offices. Unfortunately, many were locked, though a few had busted doors. Based on the available illumination of the moon and broken lights, Nina did not find anything or anyone, which bothered her. No zombies? Surely the undead things had attacked this Center in Nina's absence. Which then raised the next question: if zombies did not attack the Pokemon Center, what did?

"Speeearr! Speear! Speeeeaaarr!!"

The lovebirds were noisy little things, that was for sure. Their caws were so loud and echoing that Nina could have sworn two more Spearows arrived at the windows.

Having better things to worry about, Nina turned a corner, training her gun ahead and keeping her eyes peeled. There was an elevator nearby, though Nina doubted it worked. Then again, electricity continued to spark through overhead lights, so there was a possibility the transporter still worked. Nina knew she did not have time to test it, though. She had enough distractions to contend with. The birds' noises made it hard for Nina to concentrate or hear alternate sounds, which was a weakness. If Nina could not hear any moaning zombies, the monsters could potentially sneak up behind her. Strangely, something started to occasionally sting her eyes.

"Speeear! Speeear!!"

"Shut up, you damned birds…" grunted Nina, taking one hand off her gun and bringing it to her face. She swatted the hand a few times, whacking tiny buzzing insects…

Oh no…

Nina was not stupid. Insects? She knew the warning signs of a potential dead, or undead.

"Speeeeaaarrr! Speeeeaaaar!"

But those noisy birds, combined with the poor lighting, made it impossible for Nina to tell where the insect-attracting zombie currently resided. Proceeding with caution, more flies buzzing around her meant Nina was getting closer…but how close was "too close"? Nina was finding it difficult to concentrate, and that could prove fatal. Nothing appeared in front of her, behind her, to the side…but Nina was being watched. She knew it.

"Speeeeaaaaarrrr! Speeeeeeaaaarrr! Speeeeeeaar!!"

She was being watched from every angle, surrounded…outnumbered. Nina felt her heart quicken unsteadily. A bead of sweat dampened the side of her vibrating face as her breathing accelerated through chattered teeth. Everything was spinning, round and round. Disoriented, the woman was blinded by darkness, and deafened by the obnoxious Spearow caws…louder…more magnanimous…closer

"Speeeeeeeaaaaarrrr! Speeeeeeeeeeaaaarrr! Speeeeeeeeeeaar!!"

Unable to tolerate the maddening noise anymore, Nina snapped. "Shut the hell up!!" she blasted, spinning around and pointing her magnum at the irritating lovebirds. Nina did not mean to shoot them, but at least shoot the sill and frighten the birds to go find somewhere else to caw at the moon. The trigger was milliseconds away from getting squeezed…

…When Nina almost dropped the weapon.

"…What…the…" Nina's trembling lips stammered, while wide maroon eyes glanced all around her. The third floor corridor contained at least a dozen windows.

At each window perched a cawing Spearow.

"Speeeaaar! Speeaaaarr!!"

Reality sank into Nina's body faster than quicksand. Her surroundings were still poorly lit, but Nina managed to take a far closer observation of the third floor hallway. Dirt, blood, and glass were not the only things decorating this area. Occasionally, gusts of wind through the windows picked up dainty brown feathers, dancing them across the revolting floor. The windowsills were also sporting odd stains of trickled fluids now dried and painted onto the lower walls. The "paint" was a disgusting white color with specks of brown…

Oh shit…and Tauris would have found that line gut-bustlingly hilarious, because Nina knew she was indeed staring at shit…bird shit. Everywhere. Feathers, avifaunal excrement…it did not take a genius to realize what Nina walked into. The third floor of the Pokemon Center had been transformed into a bloody, disgusting…gigantic bird's nest!

"Speeeeeeeaaaaaaaaarr!!!"

Backing slowly away from the surrounding windows, Nina's wide eyes darted between all twelve birds, each one now pointing their crooked beaks at her. Twelve beaks squawking at her! Twelve beaks crusted in maroon blood. Thirteen beaks with rotted jaws exposing maggot-eaten tongues. Fifteen beaks attached to rust-colored heads, cocking in disturbing spasms and beady black eyes reflecting zero life…only hunger. Eighteen beaks…

…Before Nina knew it…twenty Spearows perched at the windows.

Flap…flap…flap…

In the windows' moonlit distances, more flying nightmares could be seen heading her way, too. They must have heard the Spearow's ear-splitting caws. Nearing the Center and flapping their rotten wings were little Pidgeys, Murkrows…and larger Pidgeots…Fearows…

This…can't be… Nina tried to convince herself, shaking her head in disbelief and breaking into a cold sweat. She recognized the madness in the Spearows' dark eyes: undead. I never thought…POKEMON could be infected…no! Nina almost prayed, continuously stepping backwards and not making sudden moves. Shooting the birds would be foolish. Nina was outnumbered, and flying targets were always harder to shoot. Nina was a good markswoman, but she doubted she could kill all the birds, at least without draining the rest of her limited ammo. Her best bet was to run.

The elevator was nearest. Nina backed up against it, flattening her back against the cold metallic wall and pushing the call button. The shiny elevator reflected the twenty-plus birds, staring at her with famished eyes, blade-sharp beaks, bony wings, and hooked talons digging into the windowsills, actually splintering wood. Tapping the elevator call button frantically, Nina cursed when it remained silent. She should have known better.

Run! RUN!!

Ding!

Perhaps there was a benevolent angel watching out for her, perhaps Tauris, because Nina marveled when the door of the elevator opened…

…And revealed a bloodied, insect-infested corpse…slouched inside the elevator…jawless…eyeless…and pecked to death.

Nina could not help it. She screamed.

"SPEEEEEAAAARRROOOOOWWWW!!!"

And the Spearows screamed as well.

Instincts took over. In all but a blur, Nina dashed inside the metal elevator, and slammed her fist against the close button. By the grace of God, the door shut just in time for a serenade of countless pings and pecks and scrapes and shrieks and cries and bangs and…

…She had to cover her ears. The outside sounds echoed in the metallic elevator, booming and nearly bursting Nina's eardrums. The pain drove her to clamp her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Each sound chipped away what little sanity she had left, until the elevator descended to lower floors. Nina did not know where she would end up, and for a brief moment, she did not care. Dying and burning in Hell for all eternity could not possibly be any worse than living one more second in Acheron City!

No…what kind of an attitude was that for a police officer? Nina had to protect Ash, Misty, and the others. She still had a duty and a purpose to continue living. Giving up now was foolish, and would insult the very reason why Tauris gave his life for her…

Tauris…

Yes. Nina would survive this. She could do it.

"Aaarrggh…"

She could do it for Tauris.

"Aaarrrrrggggghhh!"

Maroon eyes flashing open, Nina gasped loudly upon realizing the noise of the attacking Spearows ended. Black parasites buzzed everywhere. Now the elevator was filled with the echoing moans of the jawless, eyeless man staggering to his feet. His white coat was torn and stained crimson, hardly covering the sight of ragged flesh, bone, and muscle Nina preferred never to see. Putrid organs sloshed inside his exposed ribcage, occasionally spilling out at Nina's boots as he blindly clutched the elevator's walls. Bloodied fingerprints smeared across the once-polished walls, and a stethoscope around his neck lingered near his heart that never beat. A Pokemon doctor, just like Nurse Joy…a man who lived to save lives, was now an undead abomination seeking to destroy Nina's life.

The elevator was enclosed: nowhere to run, providing Nina with only one choice. Not wanting to, but not having another option, the policewoman fixated her magnum's barrel between the man's bleeding sockets. He could not even see, yet Nina knew he would eventually find her if she did not neutralize him. Swallowing for a multitude of reasons, the woman offered a silent apology…and pulled the trigger.

Ding!

The dented elevator doors opened again, exposing the vacant lobby of the first floor. Dripping from the doors was fresh crimson, fleeing down the metallic walls like falling tears. Some flies abandoned the elevator, while others remained to feast. The small transporter's enclosure was now bathed in red, along with spattered pinkish matter that fell in mounds around the heap of the unnamed doctor.

Automatically, the elevator doors closed after a few seconds of inactivity. Then came the silence…the realizations…of Nina being trapped in a bloodied box. But at least the box was safe and secure, too sturdy for the rabid Spearow to break through. The elevator was a godsend, or perhaps there was someone watching over Nina.

Tauris…

Her ears rang for a brief eternity, due to the close-range gunshot. Covered in blood and a collage of other putrid remains, the panting Nina felt her legs waver. She slid down the length of the elevator's wall, sitting in the blood pool beside the headless doctor. For some reason, Nina envied the doctor. His troubles were over, and Nina's were only beginning.

And honestly, it was a lot harder knowing her partner was not out there looking for her anymore. How was it possible to be stuck in a city overpopulated by zombies, and feel utterly alone?

"Dammit…" A soft choke echoed through the elevator's safe confines. Burying her face into the hand not holding her smoking revolver, Nina bit back a sob. She made sure it only lasted a second before Nina pulled herself to her feet, punched the open button, and forced herself forward. She was on the first floor, correct? Ash and Misty were on this floor.

Nina had to warn the others that infected Pokemon had overrun the Center.


Hard…to…breathe…

Darker…harder…to see…

Where…where am I?

Lost?

Ash, did you…get the three of us lost…again?

No…wait…

This is not…Ash's fault.

No.

Not' Misty's…either.

Where are you…guys?

I…miss…you.

It's getting dark…cold…wet…quiet…

Dizzy…should' sit down…

My…my head hurts….

Neck…hurts…

Stomach…

Everything…hurts…

Is…somebody…really…looking…for me…?


"Jessie?"

"What James?"

"…Are you…okay?"

Groaning loudly, Jessie rolled her blue eyes and shook her head in exasperation. "How many times must I tell you?" she almost barked. She, James, and Meowth had wandered into a ward on the second floor. Specifically, the area was for newborn and soon-to-be-hatched Pokemon, identical to a human nursery or NICU. Glass did not clutter this floor, but crushed multicolored eggshells did, presumably of newborn, or unborn, baby Pokemon caught in Acheron's terror. The thoughts twisted jagged knives in the Team Rocket trio's chests. Fortunately, no such little Pokemon appeared in sight, and honestly, the Team Rocket trio did not want to know 'what' happened to the infants. Chances are, the babies were either consumed by Acheron's undead populace, or…

…As long as those things were not in the immediate vicinity, Jessie never cared. Right now, the night was taking a considerable toll on the red-haired girl, and James' annoying questions were provoking Jessie's natural irritability. Stopping in her tracks, dirt and shells ground under Jessie's boots as the woman spun around and glare into James' concerned green eyes. "I'm fine!"

This marked probably the twentieth time Jessie told him such, yet James was still not convinced. Jessie's red lips claimed she was okay, but…

…But…the crimson blood now starting to seep through her black bootleg told James another story.

Meowth was not quick to believe Jessie's words, either. Perched atop James' shoulder, the cat had been keeping close tabs on Jessie's walking, which was progressively staggering. Now the wound was bleeding more profusely, and it was impossible not to notice. "It's gettin' woise, Jess," the cat softly noted, hopping to the ground by her reddened leg. Such comments earned the cat another groan from the redhead. Jessie was not about to have this conversation again. She had been forced to listen to James and Meowth's annoying inquiries ever since…

"Hey, you!" Jessie had called, stomping ahead through the Pokemon Center cafeteria. She, James, and Meowth had barely reached the Center, unscathed by the city's monsters, but tremendously exhausted. Perhaps it was due to fatigue, annoyance, or both, that Jessie took out her frustration on the first doctor she saw at the Center. A man in a white lab coat had been hiding out in the cafeteria. Tired and angry, the red-haired woman approached the man from behind, raring to demand answers. "What the hell's going on in this city?!" Surely a doctor would help enlighten them, right?

True, the doctor DID enlighten Jessie regarding what was happening in the city…just not in the way she expected.

When Jessie screamed, James and Meowth ran as fast as their weak legs could allow. By the time they reached their leader, Jessie was flat on her back and struggling to pry away the rabid doctor atop her. Meowth had successfully stunned the doctor with a Fury Swipe across the face, and James wasted no time in kicking the decaying bastard off Jessie. Unfortunately, the rotten doctor, though mindless, was sly enough to latch his teeth onto Jessie's left leg instead. Another kick from James' boot broke the doctor's jaw right off, and sent the jawless fiend rolling a few feet away. 'Jawless' did not mean 'dead,' of course. So, James and Meowth helped the whimpering Jessie to her feet, and got the hell out of the cafeteria before the doctor pursued. They never saw him afterwards, nor did they want to see him, either. The trio found a safe hiding spot, and stayed there until they heard the twerps arrive.

While hiding in a dark supply closet, James and Meowth never saw the severity of Jessie's leg wound. And, of course, the woman was too proud to ever admit she was suffering indescribable pain. Jessie was the leader of their makeshift little team, and she knew James and Meowth would freak out if something happened to her. But now the wound was out in the open, and had time to intensify. That was when Jessie's friends realized she was not getting any better.

"You really shoulda' told da' twerps and cop about it," Meowth noted wisely, his voice a far cry from his typical sarcasm. However, Jessie's injury was no laughing matter, not to Meowth, and certainly not to James.

Snarling in annoyance, Jessie ran a hand through her long red locks. "And what would that have done?" she asked incredulously, before using her same hand to gesture wildly to further emphasize the foolishness in Meowth's suggestion. "Oh suuure, I can just picture the twerps reacting to my wound," Jessie snorted, glancing at the blood trickling down her boot. Earlier, James had been gentleman enough to shred part of his glove to wrap Jessie's wound in a makeshift bandage. Made of the same black material, James' black bandage camouflaged seamlessly with Jessie's torn boot. It was almost impossible to notice the injury in the dimly lit Pokemon Center, undeniably why the twerps and Jenny never noticed it. Jessie's black boots also concealed the red blood better than, say, white boots. But now that the blood was seeping more profusely through the bandage and boot, the twerps would have to be blind not to eventually notice it. "The twerpette would probably squeal over the sight of blood, and God knows how the bratty twerp would handle it. He'd probably pass out-"

"They'd still be willing to help, Jessie!" James knew without a shred of doubt in his mind. Yes, the twerps usually annoyed James. Yes, James often rolled his eyes and stifled gags when the twerps acting excruciatingly goody-goody. However, even though the kids were "twerps," they were not the types of people to deny help to someone…even Jessie. Besides, contrary to Jessie's predictions of how Ash and Misty would react to her wound, James doubted squealing and fainting would ensue. After all, surely the twerps had already seen a handled the gruesome sights of Acheron City. James still believed sights like rotten corpses were something even kids like the twerps should never have to see.

Deep down, Jessie felt the same way about the kids, but she was too damn stubborn to accept help from a bunch of goody-two-shoes. Jessie was always self-sufficient. She grew up in a poor family, struggled to make ends-meet, and Jessie always handled it alone. Surely, this zombie injury could not be any worse than surviving frigid winters, in nothing but a rickety cabin young Jessie and her late mother called home. Hell, this city was a cakewalk compared to nearly freezing to death in the dead of winter! Jessie would handle this night.

"The twerps claimed those 'things' were zombies, Jess!" James practically pleaded, placing his hands on the woman's shoulders to try and drill some sense into her thick skull. Honestly, James was terrified for Jessie. The violet-haired young man did not understand Acheron's situation better than his partner, but the bottom line was Jessie was wounded…severely. On top of that, a so-called 'zombie' wounded her. "Do you even know what zombies are? Once a person gets bitten by one, they…"

"Enough!" snapped Jessie, instantly silencing both of her partners and whipping James' hands away. Yes, she knew what 'zombies' were, and Jessie would have been lying if she claimed she was not perturbed upon realizing an actual zombie bit her. Nevertheless, "I don't want to hear another word about this. This'll be our secret. God knows the twerps have enough things to worry about." The brats' top priority was finding the older twerp, and heavens only knew what happened to him. Jessie knew Ash and Misty would happily help her, but given the choice of saving Brock or saving Jessie, the redhead knew the twerps would tend to Brock first. Jessie could deal with that.

"Besides…I'm not buying this 'zombie' bullshit, either," the red-haired Rocket admitted, folding her arms over her chest alongside a snorted huff. "There's no such thing as zombies. I'm sure there's a much more logical explanation for what happened to this city, other than just a mass reenactment of Night of the Living Dead!"

"Woooobbuffet!!" a popped-out Wobbuffet agreed, before getting carted back into its Pokeball.

James and Meowth begged to differ with Jessie. Knowing that Team Rocket had some ploy in this city's grisly affair was not much more comforting either. James, Jessie, and Meowth were not the most well informed (or most favored) Rocket agents, but they did know Giovanni dabbled into all sorts of illegal businesses. The thieves had no clue what the hell their shadowy boss intended to do with a city full of zombies, though.

Besides, the Rocket trio had worse troubles.

Scratch…scratch…shuffle…shuffle…

Frozen and straightened like pins, Jessie, James, and Meowth held their breaths upon hearing nearby rustling. Their eyes darting everywhere, the thieves tried to pinpoint where the sound came from, or more specifically, 'what' made the sound. But all they could see was a sea of hospital gurneys, toppled machinery, and glassy incubators. No shadows towered over them, indicating approaching fiends.

Yet, whoever said the shadows had to tower 'over' them?

Meowth, the shortest member of his trio, was closest to the floor. Much to his misfortune, the cat's blue eyes were the first to be graced by a purplish-gray something flopping out from underneath the nearest gurney. The cat's blood ran cold amidst his pounding heart and perspiring body. The heap of purplish-gray 'something' was long, like a tube, but it twitched and moved, as if trying to detect its nearest surroundings. More specifically, the 'tube' expanded and contracted, as if inhaling and exhaling like the trunk of an elephant.

"Phannn…pieeeeee…"

That was exactly what it was, too: a tiny, adorable, baby elephant-like Phanpy…

A Phanpy…tripping over a rotten trunk, with morphed cartilage oozing out rotten grayed skin. No taller than a foot, the hellish little newborn spawn shuffled across the shell-littered floor, obviously unaccustomed to walking on its undeveloped tiny legs. Nevertheless, the rotten infant Pokemon dragged itself closer to the mortified Team Rocket trio. Closer, the mutant Phanpy wheezed through dilapidated nostrils. Reddish fluids drooled through rotten holes in its jaw, leaving a trail behind the little elephant's staggering body. Black button eyes locked onto the three taller, living, targets. Phanpy would have been dubbed cute…if it was not dead. Shards of powdery-blue shell pieces adhered to the baby's skin, while the Pokemon's body glistened via a silky transparent gel-like substance. The Rocket members were not doctors, but they automatically assumed the Phanpy recently hatched.

Jessie swallowed loudly, feeling dread careen into her like a frozen snowball chucked upside her head. "Oh God…"

Newborn babies were instinctively hungry, too.

To make matters worse, the tiny shadows from underneath the Rockets' feet were quickly multiplying.


Quiet…so very quiet…

Heh…I kinda'…miss…Ash and Misty's…noisy arguing…

"If a certain redhead hadn't flung the map like a madwoman earlier…MAYBE we could know where the hell we are!"

"Don't start with me, Ash Ketchum! I vaguely remember 'someone' saying he knew EXACTLY where he was going!"

"Don't blame poor Brock for your stupid move."

"You know WHO I'm talking about, Mr. No-Sense-of-Direction!! I swear, Ash, you'd get lost in your own house!"

I…always…referee…their fights…

It's better…than listening…to this silence…

Though…Ash and Misty…getting along…once in a while…is the best…of all…

Hope'…they're not…stupidly bickering…right now…

"Either we're standing in the most energy-INefficient city on the planet, or this city's people happen to go to sleep after YOUR bedtime!"

"I don't have a bedtime! And you're one to talk about sleep, Sleeping Beauty…though I'm not so sure about the 'beauty' part…"

"WHAT WAS THAT, ASH KETCHUM?!"

Come' on…guys…stop fighting…like three-year-olds…

Grow…up…

Get…along…

Cause'…

I don't think…you're…gonna' have…a referee…anymore.


Sniff…sniff…"Pikapi!"

"What's up, Pikachu?" Ash perked, carefully walking over to where the yellow mouse had been inspecting. Ash, Misty, and Pikachu had found themselves in the Pokemon Center's emergency room division: massive, labyrinthian, and most likely the largest part of the whole Center.

Broken, blood-filled Pokeball pieces were glistening everywhere.

Unlike the rest of the poorly lit Center, the ER's lights were entirely shut off, busted, and not even occasional crackles of electricity sparked through bulbs. Pikachu had attempted to charge the lights, at least for momentary illumination, but nothing worked. The ER was probably on a different electrical current or generator, and the said line was probably shut down. There was no way for Ash and Misty to know. Even a Thundershock jumpstart did not work. So Ash, Misty, and Pikachu found themselves in darkness, with occasional slivers of sliver moonlight through windows as feeble light sources.

Well, moonlight…and Cyndaquil's flame. Of course, various equipment, oxygen gas tanks, and medical drugs and chemicals were messily strewn all over the demolished ER. Thus, Cyndaquil had to be careful where it directed its flames. Ash and Misty had no clue which machines, tanks, drugs, and chemicals were flammable, if they even were flammable. However, the kids were not stupid enough to ignite the whole ER up like a roman candle to find out, nor did they possess the patience and time to do so, either. They just proceeded with caution, and Cyndaquil's limited flames danced carefully. Noctowl compensated, anyway. Capable of seeing through low lighting, the large owl perched on an overhead light banister, on watch duty while Ash and the others below scrutinized the area. If there were any visible nearby threats, Noctowl would sound the alarm.

Rested and recharged, Pikachu and the rest of Ash and Misty's Pokemon had been assisting the humans during their trek through the enormous Pokemon Center ER. Like a protective mother, Misty absolutely forbade Togepi to leave the protection of her red backpack. Togepi never argued, but then again, the baby Pokemon was too sleepy to argue. Togepi barely heard its mommy's "stay inside my backpack, not matter what" orders before drifting back to dreamland. After all, it was late at night, far past Togepi's bedtime. Such was a godsend for Misty, because hellish zombies were not something she wanted innocent Togepi to see. For similar reasons, Ash was not particularly thrilled with the idea of Pikachu, Cyndaquil, and the rest of his and Misty's Pokemon roaming free, lest they might get hurt like Brock. However, Ash was also confident in his Pokemon's abilities to take care of themselves. Pikachu and the others would have never agreed, or insisted, to help if they would only be burdens. Besides, Brock was not just Ash and Misty's friend, either.

Sadly, Pikachu, just like Ash and Misty, was tired due to tonight's adventures. A quick nap did not substitute a good night's rest. The mouse was still alert, but lethargy taunted the electric rodent. Of course, that never stopped Pikachu from faithfully helping its friends. Plus, there still seemed something odd about Acheron City…aside zombies. Pikachu did not understand the little gut feeling it bore, but the mouse had a feeling tonight's problems and mysteries were far from over. Plus, all the retched scents of blood and rotted flesh attacked Pikachu's keen senses like acid, corroding the Pokemon's nerves. It was disheartening for the animal not being able to tell the differences between what smelt alive, and what smelt dead. But Pikachu persevered and directed its attention up to its approaching trainer. "Chu…pikachu!"

Ash found him and Pikachu standing before another large, metallic door…a tad too reminiscent of Ash's frightening adventure at Nemi's Restaurant. Only this door was actually double-doors, silvery, and flashed a bright red cross insignia.

The cross was not the only red marking on the door, either.

Gulping softly, Ash attempted to push away the memories of what happened the last time he and Pikachu poked their noses into a suspicious door in Acheron City. His friends often claimed Ash never learned his lessons, and in some cases their words proved true. Yet, after what happened at Nemi's Restaurant, there was no way in hell Ash was about to foolishly walk into another zombie trap…especially when it resembled a past encounter he narrowly escaped alive! Even Ash knew he was dense, but not that dense.

However…

"Misty…look…"

Craning her neck in the boy's direction, Misty trotted over to where Ash and Pikachu stood. The redhead had been mostly working alongside Staryu, since the starfish was using its red jewel as a makeshift flashlight to assist Misty. Unfortunately, the jewel shined crimson, which easily camouflaged Acheron's notorious bloodstains. A red light in a red-painted city like Acheron did not help a person distinguish evidence of the dead and living very well. Still, light was light.

However, when Misty cued Staryu to extinguish its light, that was when Misty's adjusted eyes noticed the red cross doors.

Specifically, Misty spied the blood-streaked doors' electronic locking keypad. It bore an illuminated digital screen, flashing red, and displaying the black words "LOCKED."

The keypad also happened to be painted in bloody red fingerprints.

Ash and Misty both exchanged disturbed, yet hopeful, looks.

Zombies never used doors: the creatures that broke into Nemi's were a perfect example. The mindless undead just pounded their way through windows and walls. Zombies would more likely break down a door, instead of politely knocking and turning a doorknob like the civilized people the infected civilians once were. More importantly, zombies could not possibly retain the common sense to fiddle with electronic keypads.

Who else could have fiddled with the door's keypad?

Brock…?

But…how could Brock have gotten a code to lock the door. Lock combinations were usually classified and would only be known by the Center's staff. Short of Brock asking one of the undead ex-staff members for pass codes, there was no chance he locked the door.

Then again…there was no reason to assume the pad's current fingerprints even locked the door. Brock could have fiddled with the keypad, try to fudge a code, and failed. There was no reason to think Team Rocket never farted around with doors upon reaching the Center, too, prior to hiding in their supply closet. There were many possibilities.

But one way or another, the bottom line was bloodied fingers did indeed touch the keypad…recently, too. The blood was too bright of a scarlet for it to have been on the buttons for very long. To Ash and Misty's recollections, Jessie, James, and Meowth did not appear bloody. On the other hand, Misty remembered the last time she saw Brock…he was bleeding profusely…

…She and Ash were getting their hopes up, were they not?

Whatever the case, Pikachu sure seemed interested in the door.

"Pikapi! Pikachupi!" the Pokemon called to the two trainers, regaining Ash and Misty's respective attentions. The mouse sniffed again, furrowed its brow, and then pawed the red cross doors. There was something keenly odd about the doors. Pikachu's nose may have been slightly hindered by the infestation of blood and flesh fetor, but Pikachu could still sense that there was something unique about the area. "Chu! Chu!"

Misty did not understand Pikachu's language as proficiently as Ash. About the only words she knew by heart were "Pikachupi," Pikachu's little nickname to Misty, and, of course, "Pikapi" for Ash. Otherwise, the electric rodent might as well have spoken Greek in Misty's ears. Still, Misty had a gist of what Pikachu was trying to tell them.

"Something's behind the door, isn't it?" Misty deduced, getting an affirmative nod from Pikachu. Thereafter, Pikachu continued to rub its nose against the creases of the doors, attempting to whiff more conclusive smells between the cracks. Meanwhile, Misty mulled over the next course of action. Attempting to unlock the door sounded like a waste of time, and breaking down the door did not sound too wise, either. Besides, God only knew what was behind that door. Sighing, Misty ran a hand through her red bangs, trying to make sense of an unbelievable situation. Then again, Brock was usually good for making order out of chaos, concocting rational solutions to problems before Ash and Misty did anything careless. Brock kept his cool, kept his friends calm, rationalized problems…

The girl's aquamarine eyes instantly fell to the floor. Until now, Misty never realized how heavily she and Ash relied on Brock. The depressing thoughts were enough to drive tears to the girl's eyes…

…Had Misty's eyes never noticed the red cloth laying a few feet away.

The same eyes blinked away the tears before they could even manifest. Not a second later, Misty bolted over to a nearby gurney. The bed was stained with blood splatters, seemingly fresh, but most notably was the piece of cloth lying on the ground beside the red-stained gurney. Slowly kneeling down, Misty hesitantly picked up the cloth, holding it as if it were more fragile than tissue paper. The fabric was bloodstained, small, and very familiar to Misty's shocked eyes.

It was the makeshift bandage she made for Brock, via the killed Nurse Joy's apron.

"Misty? What is it?"

The girl heard Ash, but the gears in her mind worked too briskly and loudly for Misty to reply. She had all the evidence she needed that Brock was nearby, and based on Pikachu's actions, Misty knew where Brock resided.

"Pikachu…" Misty started in a determined whisper, before back on her feet before Ash could offer her another helping hand. Locking her aqua eyes with Pikachu's orbs, Misty swallowed any earlier tears and gave the mouse an authoritative glance. "…Try to short-circuit the locking mechanism. If the keypad is illuminated, then it must have some charge to it. We might be able to override the code."

The marveled black-haired boy beside Misty blinked. Ash never thought about that. The doors were probably working on an emergency outlet for, well, emergencies. Perhaps electricity was indeed running in the ER after all, and only certain circuits got destroyed. God knew Acheron City was a living, breathing emergency, and zombies would not pick and choose what things they broke and left intact. Misty's plan might work.

For what felt like the first time all night, Ash's lips curled into a confident grin. "You heard her, Pikachu," Ash confirmed with a nod to his faithful Pokemon. Just as told, Pikachu generated a considerable amount of electricity in its red cheeks, and then discharged it into the electronic keypad. The immediate area became fully illuminated via the yellow glow of Pikachu's Thunderbolt, while the keypad beeped frantically via scrambled codes and electrical currents. The obnoxious beeping got quite noisy.

…So noisy, nobody ever heard Noctowl's sudden calls…

Buzzst!

…That is, until the locking mechanism bussed unlocked, flashing a green "OPEN"…the doors swooshed open, perfectly slicing the red cross logo in half.

A second later, the crimson rag Misty had been holding fell to the floor…as did the jaws, and hearts, of Misty and Ash.

"Wiggly."

Beyond the cross-painted doors…stood a Wigglytuff…pink…cute…adorable…

…And undead…just like the pack of other Center Pokemon standing behind it, all leering at the human newcomers with ravenous bloodshot eyes. They all wanted one thing:

Food.


Urgh…we never did…eat supper…did we?

Hungry…

Bet' Ash and Misty…hungry too. Ash always is…Misty's cranky when hungry…

Pokemon…gotta' be fed…too…

Should' cook…something…

Should'…eat something…yes…

But…I can wait…yeah…gotta' make supper…for the others…first.

Getting…tired…hungry…

Sleepy…sleep for a while. Eat later…yes…

Ash and Misty…won't mind…will they?


"Arbok! Poison Sting! Aim for their…" Jessie trailed, unable to issue the command to her purple cobra without feeling her insides churn. But after fighting through a bunch of undead monstrosities in Acheron to reach the Center, Jessie learned very quickly how to efficiently eliminate zombies. That did not mean Jessie enjoyed killing them, especially when the "zombies" were no longer just human-like creatures who looked like they crawled out of graves. Quite the contrary, the zombies were Pokemon…infant Pokemon…innocent babies whose only sin was being born in Hell. The guilt would probably do more damage on Jessie than these zombies could, but there was no other choice.

Besides, these 'babies' were already dead.

Grinding her teeth, the red-haired woman balled a fist before pointing it at a nearby Smoochum. The formerly pink Pokemon was now purplish; decayed gray-pink lips, and its short, shiny blonde hair had fallen out in odd places. The creature was missing one of its adorable eyes, too. Dear lord God… Jessie nearly retched, before mustering the courage to scream, "Arbok, aim for their heads!"

Even Arbok seemed stunned by the command, but obediently did as told. Glistening white needles then projected out of the snake's agape mouth like razor missiles. Unlike guns, the needles' pressure never induced the Smoochum's skull to explode. Just the opposite, the needles were fine enough to pierce the brain, as slick as surgical knifes. It took a few seconds before the cobra's poison worked its magic, irradiated the brain cells, and sent the immobile Smoochum to the ground.

It was a difficult sight to behold. Aside the fact that Jessie always liked Smoochums, she could not stand murdering babies, undead or living. Jessie became a Team Rocket member to make easy money, to compensate for her poverty-filled youth. She never joined the organization to murder people and Pokemon!

"People are dead because of you!"

She knew the twerp did not really mean what he said earlier. Even so, right now, Jessie did honestly feel like a killer.

All around her and James was the gory evidence of what the Rockets were forced to do to stay alive. Tiny little bodies, none of them taller than a foot, all of Pokemon they had to…slay…to ensure survival.

"Victreebell…V-Vine Whip!"

Jessie noticed that James stammered every time he issued that attack. It was disturbing to realize how "creative" humans could get when they had to survive hellish conditions like Acheron City. The mind warped and bended in ways, twisting the imagination to concoct disgusting schemes in order to take a life. James' scheme was ordering Victreebell to use its Vine Whips, and strangle the undead little demons that attacked. The baby zombies were tiny, possessing undeveloped bodies that were as fragile as paper. It was not hard to garrote an infant zombie's neck…to the point of snapping the frail bone and skin…removing the head entirely. Apparently, decapitation worked just as effectively as headshots.

James became a member of Team Rocket to escape his smothering rich family: to have freedom, not take away the freedom of life.

Victreebell's vines were perpetually stained vermillion when an Elekid submitted to the Grass Type's attack, falling to the ground in two yellow and red pieces. Heaps of small zombies…pieces…were strewn everywhere, and the second floor ward was now a sea of putrefied blood. How many Pokemon had been slain? Jessie and James did not know. It was all a bloody, dizzying blur to them by now.

Meowth's Fury Swipe claws were also stained with rusty reds and sticky flesh as he sliced through the throat of a final Magby. The Fire Type infant had yet to even develop its beak, and the infected nose was now dangling off the front of its face like a useless flap. Elongated cat claws dissected the young zombie's throat, slicing sensitive bone and dropping the Magby into two pieces. Magby was the last zombie. Thereafter, the baby zombie crashed into a pool of its own blood, mixed with so many other Pokemons' life fluids.

Meowth became a member of Team Rocket to go from a freakish stray cat who could talk human languages, to becoming rich, powerful, and respected. Alas, there was nothing respectful about slaughtering Pokemon. Specifically, it was genocide on Meowth's behalf, more so than Jessie and James.

Similarly to Magby, and so many other undead Pokemon, Meowth dropped to his knees, spattering blood. The cat's once-creamy fur was already dripping in blood, and dripping with…tears.

It is said that when faced with horrific circumstances, living beings become capable of performing incredible, and sometimes impossible, tasks. Now, Jessie, James, and Meowth believed the proverb. They were living proof of it, and did what they needed to do in order to survive. Technically, there was no reason to grieve for the undead, but…

"…Dead because of you!"

Damn it, why did the twerp always have to be right, even when he did not intend to be?!

Meowth was not the only Rocket member who silently shed tears.


Pikachu did not wait for Ash or Misty to issue orders. The electric mouse gathered as much voltage as possible and unleashed it onto the Wigglytuff…or at least, it best resembled a Wigglytuff. The creature was no longer pink, but sickly grayish-pink, caked in blood drooling from deformed lips. The Pokemon's trademark big blue eyes were darkened and bloodshot.

One eye also happened to be dangling from its socket, like a dirty red tetherball.

Ash and Misty were not given the luxury of vomiting or screaming over the sight before the repulsive Wigglytuff hit the ground, fortunately facedown. Of course, after what happened at Nemi's, Pikachu remembered that electric attacks would not stop these undead monsters. The pinkish nightmare had already stood back up before Pikachu could recharge.

Then again, Pikachu was not trying to 'stop' them, per se, just 'slow down' the zombies. Noctowl's split-second Wing Attack worked quite nicely across the stunned Wigglytuff's throat.

When blood poured out of Wigglytuff like red water from a decapitated fountainhead, that was when Ash snapped. "Pikachu! Noctowl! What the hell are you doing?!" the wide-eyed boy screamed, hardly able to believe his own Pokemon just butchered Wigglytuff in a matter of seconds! True, Ash was a Pokemon trainer, and he trained his Pokemon to fight. However, by no means did Ash ever teach his Pokemon to kill! Ash did not know which was more horrific: Acheron's undead monsters, or watching his beloved Pokemon murder their own kind! Torn between urges to scream again, pull out his hair, and a multitude of other emotional outbursts, the horrified boy screwed his eyes shut, barely crying out "Stop it!!"

Pikachu, Noctowl, and the rest of Ash and Misty's nearby Pokemon, glanced at their trainers. The Pokemon were acting on pure raw instinct: not to kill, of course, but to protect their masters. Noctowl, in particular, glanced at its bloodstained wing that decapitated Wigglytuff. The bird was proud to defend Ash; it had no regrets.

Technically, Pikachu had no regrets, either. Pikapi meant the world to Pikachu, as did Pikachupi. However, the mouse knew regrets would ensue…if they did not do something regarding the dozen of other undead Pokemon sauntering towards Ash and Misty's vicinity. Next up was an Abra, its perpetually squinty eyes covered over with odd, unnatural cataracts. The Psychic Type was blind, but obviously able to smell through one nostril of a crooked nose. Beside the staggering red-gold Abra happened to be a bluish Pokemon, sporting a dislocated arm uselessly flapping against its side. Repugnant red fluids and innards occasionally spilled through a rotten hole in the Pokemon's round, swirl-covered belly.

It was a Poliwhirl.

Misty could not take much more of this situation, either. For her, she was looking at an undead monster that resembled one of her own precious Water Pokemon! Granted, her Poliwhirl was now an evolved Politoad, but…this Poliwhirl demon lurching before her eyes felt like a mockery! Yes, that was what this night was: a farce the fates arranged. It was all a sick puppet show, starring mannequins being pulled apart for bloody amusement.

It was not amusing to Misty at all. In fact, it boiled her blood to the point of screaming, "Politoad, Water Gun!"

Not needing to be told twice, the large aquatic toad leapt to its master's side, unleashing a jet of water from its mouth. The shot not only pushed back Poliwhirl and Abra, but various other rotten Pokemon behind them. The torrent was powerful enough to douse and knock most of the Pokemon flat on their disgusting faces. The zombies were not dead, but they were not strong enough to stand up against powerful attacks, either. They all fell down like bowling pins due to a single strike.

And when the wall of Pokemon momentarily fell, that was when Misty saw another door. Across the sea of undead was another shut bloodstained door…

…The girl's eyes suddenly fell back to Brock's bloody bandage at her feet.

What were the odds?

There was one way to find out, and Misty suddenly realized, she was willing to take the risk. Do it for Brock. The undead Pokemon were stunned and soaked through their rotten flesh. It was a perfect opportunity for Misty and Ash to seize. "Ash, have Pikachu use Thunder," Misty requested, knowing that electric attack's damage would double thanks to the water saturating the zombie Pokemon. The creatures probably would not 'die.' Yet, they probably would not move anytime soon, either…at least long enough for Ash and Misty to run across the room and into that mystery door. "Hurry!"

"Are you crazy, Misty?!" Ash blasted, snapping open his eyes and glaring them incredulously at the redhead. Never before had Ash heard something so ludicrous in his life! It was against every Pokemon trainer's moral code to indiscriminately work their Pokemon like dogs, or battle to near death, never mind… "We can't kill Pokemon!" The very idea was enough to send him over the edge. Ash would sooner kill himself before killing an innocent Pokemon! "Forget it! I won't do it!"

Also being a trainer, more professionally a Gym Leader, Misty totally agreed with Ash's refusal to kill Pokemon. But… "Ash, they're not Pokemon!" the girl swore coldly, stomping over to the terrified boy. Yes, Misty deeply loved Pokemon. However, she was smart enough to realize the difference between 'Pokemon,' and those undead 'things' cloaking themselves in rotten scraps of Pokemon skins. Not a second passed afterwards before Misty snatched Ash's collar, forcing the hysterical boy to focus and look into her eyes. By no means was the girl angry at Ash anymore, but now was not the time for him, or her, to get sentimental. "Those things are already dead, Ash! They were Pokemon! Not anymore! And the same Goddamn thing is going to happen to Brock if we don't find him! We can't find Brock with these things in our way!"

As morbid as her words sounded, Ash knew Misty was absolutely right. Still, it was hard to sneak a glance at the staggering undead Pokemon, and still not consider them "innocent Pokemon." Technically, they and the rest of this city's residents were all "innocent" of Team Rocket's treachery. So many innocent victims, too many to ever count. It did not help that Ash devoted his life to Pokemon. Human zombies were difficult enough to fight, but Pokemon zombies were a trainer's greatest nightmare. Ash loved, respected, and valued Pokemon lives. Killing Pokemon, even undead Pokemon, just seemed to be against everything Ash held dear.

But…Brock…

Brock was yet another life Ash held dear.

The boy had a choice to make: who would live, and who would die?

Dammit. His collar was still painfully grasped in Misty's fingers. Before she could even let go, Ash clamped his watering eyes shut again, tightened a fist, and screamed "Thunder, Pikachu!!"

Eternally loyal, Pikachu did as told and unleashed its strongest attack. The adjacent, water filled room attracted the volts like a giant magnet. Powerful electrical currents surged through not just the Pokemon zombies, but machines, gurneys…

…Oxygen gas tanks…

Oh shit!

Misty only had one second to curse her stupid idea before she threw herself over Ash.


I see a light…bright…yellow…

Reminds me…of…Pikachu…pretty…

Cute Pokemon…yes…little mouse…

Careful…cats eat mice…kitty…

Hungry.

But…Pikachu zaps cat…bzzst…

Kitty kitty…zap zap…hehe…charred kitty…overcooked…

Tasty.

Boom…kaboom…hehe…


Nina saw a light, followed by a small explosion at the far end of the first floor emergency room. She was surprised, considering most of the ER had been pitch dark. The explosion did not sound gigantic, but what the hell caused the explosion in the first place?

Without another thought, Nina's heavy boots picked up their pacing.


What's that…smell?

Charred…

...It smells…good.

Tasty.

Is someone…nearby?

Hungry…

Who's…there?

Somebody'…coming for me…?

Good…thank…you…

I'm…hungry…


The overhead sprinkler system happened to be still working in this half-functional Pokemon Center, though no fire alarms rang. It was probably a good thing, anyway, since the noise would have definitely attracted attention elsewhere in Acheron City. Of course, an explosion would attract attention, too, so time was still limited. Fortunately, the explosion was mild, contained to the adjacent room, and could not ignite properly with all the water left from Politoad's onslaught. The flames had mostly extinguished by the time Misty and Ash regained themselves.

Misty found herself lying on her side, Ash on his, and both kids facing each other. But specifically, Misty noticed her arms were around the boy, like a protective mother, or better yet, guardian angel. His arms were around Misty's thin waist, drawing a brief line of blush to Misty's cheeks. In each other's arms, both youths were soaked, shaking, and panting. Oh yes, Brock would have found this scene suggestively amusing…which provoked Misty to shake her head, come back into focus, and find the said friend.

"Are you okay, Misty?" the redhead heard Ash, of all people, softly whisper.

Misty blinked. Technically, she was the one who covered for Ash, so those lines should have been spoken through Misty's lips. Yet, there Ash was, more concerned over Misty than himself, just like he was with Pokemon, and everyone else. For God's sake, Ash was the one who got wounded at the restaurant. He was technically in worse condition than Misty, yet it did not seem to faze him. Why the hell did Ash have to be such a Goddamn goody-goody?

Why the hell did his goody-goodness cause redness to tease Misty's cheeks, too? But now was not the time for this. "Of course," Misty quickly replied. "You?"

Technically, 'okay' was not the first word that came to mind when describing how either of the kids felt tonight. Nevertheless, Ash nodded, though he did not feel ready to offer a smile just yet. As weird as it sounded, in this city, smiling was difficult. "Yeah."

That was all either of them needed to pull apart and drag themselves to their shaky feet. Their Pokemon quickly gathered around them, all seemingly unscathed from the minor explosion. The damage sounded worse than it appeared. Most of it was contained in the adjacent room, where all the Pokemon zombies were now piled together in burnt piles. The piles twitched, but they would never moved fast enough to catch two jogging kids. Thus, Ash and Misty pressed onward as fast as their unsteady legs could allow. They quickly praised and returned all their Pokemon to their Pokeballs, while Pikachu perched back on Ash's shoulder. Thereafter, the duo high-tailed it through the charred remains of the adjacent room. Only now did the kids realize it was a large operating room. They did not have much time to admire it, either.

Both Ash and Misty stifled gags as the vile odors of smoky flesh burned their noses. How the hell were they to know Pokemon were affected by Acheron's virus? Ash and Misty had a hard enough time accepting that people were infected, never mind Pokemon! Now, all that remained were twitchy, burnt, skeleton-like bodies of Pokemon that were probably quite beautiful, prior to Acheron City's hellish metamorphosis. It was heartbreaking for the trainers to simply pass by the poor creatures, never offer them help, but…

…These mutant Pokemon were already dead…

…Brock needed Ash and Misty's help the most.

The door Misty spied earlier led to a small waiting room. Not having enough time to enter cautiously, Misty seized the bloodstained doorknob, turned it, and dragged Ash inside before any charred zombies potentially pursued. Slamming the door behind them, the twosome then stood back to back: Ash checking one half of the waiting room, and Misty scanning the other.

The quiet waiting room was considerably small, and dim. Ash's half of the room was modestly furnished with a handful of chairs, a plant stand, and a coffee table with reading materials for waiters to pass time. Of course, everything was untidily strewn all over. The table was smashed in two, torn magazine pages littered the floor, and chairs lay on their sides, many missing legs. Conversely, Misty's side of the room contained just the receptionist's large desk; still standing, but surrounded by fallen papers and shattered remains of an expensive-looking computer monitor. Everything on the desk had been pushed off the counter, as if someone briskly wanted to clear it off, perhaps to lie something down.

…Or just sit down…

Misty went numb with disbelief for just a second. Her wide blue-green eyes fixated upon the figure haphazardly sitting down on the desk's top. He slouched, breathed heavily, and looked almost ready to fall headfirst off the counter. He was covered in blood, and almost easily mistaken for another zombie.

But Misty knew better…and ran to his side. "Brock!!"

The girl's voice was garbled through Brock's ears, as if Misty spoke whilst her mouth was filled with cotton balls. Nevertheless, the teenager managed to look up, noticing this doubling image of fiery red hair with concerned blue eyes. Even when delirious, Brock knew those colors well. Brock's dry, pained voice barely muttered a "…Mi-Mist…ty…"

Though Brock's words more than obviously reflected his unspeakable agony, they still sounded like a sweet song to Misty's relieved ears. Inhaling a deep breath to remain composed, the girl bit her lip before digging her hands into her shorts' pockets. She heard Ash's footsteps near as Misty pulled out the red vaccine vial, showcasing it to the weak Brock. The teen could barely hold up his brown-haired head, as if it was weighted in sand.

Swallowing oncoming tears, Misty held the capsule close to Brock's line of vision, while her other free hand delicately caressed Brock's ice-cold cheek. So cold. "Everything's going to be okay now, Brock," Misty promised in a choked whisper. "See? We've got the vaccine. You're gonna' be fine."

There was not a hint of doubt in Misty's tone of voice. She truly sounded as though she believed Brock would be "fine." But from Ash's perspective, he was not so sure. Ash was never the type to be fatalistic, but something about this moment prevented his typical naïve optimism to shine. The boy was never around to have seen Brock's condition immediately following Nurse Joy's attack. Misty told Ash that Brock had been severely bitten in the neck, but…Ash never thought Brock's condition was this serious! If Ash did not know better, he would have sworn Brock had been bitten in his arms…legs…side…

Misty nearly dropped the glass vial upon noticing the collection of other bleeding wounds Brock somehow acquired since she last saw him. Ragged, fist-sized fleshy tears coerced blood streams all along Brock's body: arms, legs, and torso. Not to mention, Brock still had that gaping hole in the side of his neck, though Misty thought that was his only wound! The hand she used to caress Brock's cheek promptly flew to the redhead girl's wide mouth, muffling a mortified gasp. "My God, Brock…what…w-what happened?!" Misty knew Brock's state was critical, but the last time she saw him, Brock was not this critical!

It was so hard to breathe, never mind speak. To Brock, it felt like his own vocal cords were being snipped with a pair of scissors, one by one. His one and only answer for Misty was "…P-P…Poke…mon…"

Such was all Brock needed to say for his friends to realize the hideous truths.

"Vaccine no work…if wait too long…"

Something felt cut inside Misty, too, though not her vocal cords. It was something else, something she could not identify at the moment. It hurt, though. Still, the girl was too busy wrapping her fingers around the vaccine's needle, ready to stab Brock's nearest arm with the damned vial. She had the vaccine; Brock would be okay! He had to be okay!

…But something stopped her. Blinking, Misty tugged on her arm holding the vaccine. Something was holding her back, certainly not herself. The redhead so nearly blasted Ash, afraid he might be going on another sentimental tangent. However, much to Misty's unparalleled shock, Ash was not the one restraining her arm. The black-haired boy still stood by her side, looking just as stunned as Misty. Ash was not stopping her.

It was Brock.

His grip was strong enough to only get Misty's attention, before Brock's weak hand let go like a dead snake uncoiling from a tree trunk. His head still hung, his shoulders slouched, and every weight of the world probably crushed Brock. However…

Hungry…silly…food…

No…not food…

I…don't…want to…hurt…hurt them.

"K-Keep…it…" chocked Brock, barely over a whisper, but loud enough for his friends to hear…and gasp loudly at his asinine request.

"'Keep it'?!" Misty almost shrieked, feeling her heart race and her body shake. The hotheaded side of Misty wanted to pummel Brock with her mallet; for sending her and Ash on a wild goose chase to find a vaccine Brock never intended to use! But the other side of Misty knew better, and felt a stake drive into her tender heart. "…W-why?"

Was it so hard to guess? Even in his semi-conscious form, Brock's lips managed a faint upward curl. It was not a teasing or crude smile, but a warm, almost fraternal smile. "You…m-might…need…it…later…"

Then, something did break inside Ash and Misty.

"…W-what…what the hell are you saying, Brock?" Ash stammered, desperately trying to absorb what was happening. This whole night felt like some damned amusement park ride, sadistically designed to make people sick, not make them enjoy themselves. Faster and faster, round and round…Ash managed not to pass out or throw up so far tonight, but after this moment…Goddammit, something was bound to give. Even little Pikachu could sense this, and gently rubbed Ash's shoulder, though the trainer was too preoccupied to notice. Anger, hopelessness, and sadness all warped into the boy's chaotic thoughts, relentlessly chipping his sanity. "You're…" Ash paused, taking a quick breath to try and steady himself. "…You're giving up?!"

Brock knew Ash would be angry to hear the older friend was giving up. The teenager felt like a hypocrite. However, Brock was willing to accept the title, as long as it meant his friends survived this night. Brock was not stupid. Even now, he knew what he was becoming…how far gone he was…

Hungry…tasty…

Brock knew what would happen if Ash and Misty stayed much longer.

"I don't…want…h-hurt you…" choked Brock. Little did he realize, one way or another, he was indeed hurting his friends. Either he would break their hearts, or break their skin…insides…yes…tasty…shit…No! He was getting worse. Brock desperately tried to sound as demanding as possible, but the words only came out through raspy coughs. "…G-Go…still…can!"

Misty could not take anymore of this. "Bullshit!" she screeched, eyes red-rimed with oncoming tears. But instead of giving into the tears, Misty grabbed Brock's arm again. Come hell or high water, she would cure Brock! She promised she would! "I don't care what you say! You're taking this vaccine right now! End of story! I don't want to hear a-anymore of this…this shit you're talking, Brock-!"

"P-Ple…ase…" she heard Brock moan, halting Misty once again from injecting him. Her hand that clutched the vaccine started to vibrate, at first minutely, before shaking the vial's liquids to the point of creating bubbles. "…Do…t-this…for me…"

Misty's grip clutching the vaccine nearly crushed the glass. Slowly, the trembling arm fell, painstakingly adhering to Brock's request…his final request. Why did it turn out this way? It was so unfair! There was still time to save Brock, right?

"Vaccine no work…if wait too long…"

The worst part was that the vaccine's failure was not caused by the virus, but by Brock's refusal. Or perhaps, Brock was not merely refusing the vaccine…but accepting death.

No! No! NO!!!!

"This is…this is…all m-my fault…Brock…" the young girl quivered, biting trembling lips while her head slowly leaned forward into Brock's chest. It was only then that Misty realized how…'quiet' Brock's chest sounded. His lungs were heavy with air, but his heart…it still beat, but very minutely. Slower…softer…slower…softer… The front portion of Brock's bloodstained shirt damped via the crystalline tears cascading down Misty's features. "I…sh-should've…never left you." The familiar guilt came back at full throttle, intensifying Misty's sobs as she buried her face deeper into Brock's damp chest. "I'm so…I-I'm so sorry, Brock."

Somehow, even in spite of his weakness and pain, Brock managed to place one loose arm around Misty's shaking shoulders. The teenager could not offer her much more than that. Even though he was traversing the boundary between life and death, Brock still managed to retain a sliver of his humanity that drove tears to prick his own eyes. "It's o…kay…I…don't b-blame you…Myst…not…your fault." Even so, the girl's sobs became more vociferous. No matter what Brock said, Misty still felt at blame.

Misty was not the 'only' one who felt at blame, either.

"Blame YOURSELVES…for stupidly…coming here."

The three kids would have never bothered with Acheron City…if their idiotic leader had not been so friggen full of himself that afternoon! Oh yes, tonight was a fine example of a first-rate Pokemon Master: wandering ass-backwards into an unknown city, and then getting one of his best friends killed in the process! What the hell was the matter with Ash? No level of pride was worth this! Sure, Team Rocket was responsible for the chemical outbreak. However, if Ash were half the self-proclaimed Pokemon Master he bragged, he would have been smart enough to avoid this place! Then he, Misty, and Brock would only hear about this city's tragedy over news headlines. Instead, Ash's arrogance stupidly just made Brock a headline, himself: "Pewter City Gym Leader, tragically dead because his friend is an egotistical moron!"

"…A-Ash?"

The boy's violent bout of self-loathing was ripped apart upon hearing Brock's scraggly call. Blinking, the younger boy somehow found himself staring at his eldest friend's tired, blood-smeared face. Brock was too weak to offer another comforting hand. All the teenager could give his youngest friend was a reassuring smile and nod, like a big brother. "It's…o-okay…"

So Brock claimed, but… "No…" choked Ash, slowly shaking his head back and forth in a pattern. Back and forth, back and forth; perhaps if Ash shook his head long enough, this moment would prove to be nothing but a bad dream. If only. Even Ash knew better. Around the fifth headshake, the boy's head sunk like a rock in water, accompanied by a sob he could not stand restraining anymore. "There's nothing o-okay about this! Nothing!" Ash bawled, one hand flying to his eyes the moment tears started dripping from his face. Pikachu had buried its own face in the crook of Ash's vibrating neck, whimpering softly while attempting to provide dear Pikapi with a smidgen of affectionate comfort. Even the mouse had to sympathize with its trainer: this situation was just crudely unfair.

Brock absolutely agreed. This…this is…unfair.

But…if they…can…get away…

I guess…it's worth it.

However…

Worth it…

Yes…totally worth…

Worth…e-eating…

No, Brock would not let that happen. Maddening sensations of hunger and bloodlust started surging through his veins, like an undead's energy source. His body craved nourishment, specifically from the two fresh children standing before him…practically offering themselves! Yes…easy…hungry…easy meat…tasty…NO!! Goddammit, no! Brock was higher than this! If there was no escaping this virus, then the least Brock could do was never touch his young friends. Ash and Misty were like a little brother and sister to Brock. Big brothers…look out…for younger siblings…friends…

"…G-get…out…" whispered Brock, hungrily taking large gulps of air in a feeble attempt to compose his stability. The clock was ticking. Time was limited, so Brock knew what had to be done. The pain from this moment was far worse than any of the zombie human and Pokemon bites tattooing Brock's bloody body. Alas, Brock did not want to hurt Ash and Misty. Tasty…tasty…hungry. Clamping his stinging eyes shut, Brock attempted to bind himself to his consciousness for as long as possible. Trickles of blood began seeping through cracks in his lips, spattering red dots as Brock attempted to cough a yell. Hungry…feed me… "…R-run…go! Pl…lease!"

It was almost impossible for Misty to hear Brock's heartbeat anymore. Either this was because her loud sobs muffled the beats, or…

"…Kids?"

Far too many things were spiraling in Misty and Ash's minds for them to bother wondering why the hell Nina was inexplicably standing at the room's threshold. She sounded so gentle, yet, Ash and Misty took no comfort in her voice. They did not know how the policewoman got here, and right now, they did not care. Their best friend was dying; they failed to save Brock…there really was no need to think about anything else right now.

Nina did not have to listen to the entire conversation to realize what happened in the waiting room. Brock's condition was just like all the others in Acheron City; maroon-tinted skin, multiple bite wounds, slouched posture, moaning, and blood retching. Nina marveled that Brock was still Brock, and not a full-fledged zombie. The teenager's grip on reality was admirable.

But Nina knew, sooner or later, if Brock's grip did not compliantly let go, the virus would snap the boy's sanity against his will.

Yet, Brock still managed to lift his head, partially cracking open his tired eyes, and looked at Nina. "J-Jenny…" he choked, swallowing a mouthful of blood before giving Nina a silent look…pleading her…asking her…

She may not have personally known Brock. However, Nina still knew what Brock silently asked of her. The shaking hand clutching her magnum naturally vibrated more intensely.

But first things first…

Closing her maroon eyes, Nina took a deep shaky breath. "Ash…Misty…wait outside," she gently ordered. "The operating room's Pokemon have been neutralized," Nina added, opening her eyes to reload her emptied revolver. Ammunition was getting limited. "I'll…" the woman trailed, glancing back at Brock's slumped head. He was still peering at her with that 'look,' twisting a knife in Nina's chest. She proved unable to speak the last line without requiring a moment to swallow and recompose herself. "…I'll take care of this."

They all knew what she meant. Such sounded absurd, and yet appropriate at the same time. Right and wrong, smart and dumb; the choices were living contradictions that Ash and Misty doubted they could handle anymore. All at once, the two kids wanted to scream a multitude of apologies to Brock. They would beg him to forgive them, tell him to hate their stupidity, tell him to scold them…but no, Brock was not like that. Knowing Brock, he would have instead thanked Ash and Misty for going to such great lengths to save him. He would tell them he appreciated their efforts, loved them-

Loved them…That was why Brock was doing this, right? That was why Tauris died, too: the same situation, only different people. Sacrificing oneself to save his loved ones…"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

And so, Ash and Misty would survive this night. It was what Brock wanted.

Misty felt gentle, trembling hands touch her shoulders from behind, causing the girl to finally pull away from Brock's near-silent chest. Hiccuping a few sobs, the red-faced redhead took a few deep breaths before straightening up on her feet. Her tear-spilling eyes remained on Brock, as if trying to preserve his memory. But no, Misty did not want to remember Brock like this: dying, bleeding, and mauled. No. She wanted to remember Brock at his best: cooking, grooming, flirting, smiling, joking…

"Come…c'mon…M-Myst."

Ash was not forcing her to leave, but Misty knew departure was the only choice. Brock diverted his eyes off Nina, back to his younger friends, and offered them as reassuring of a smile as he could muster. The smile tore apart the few pieces left of the kids' hearts. As they forced themselves to leave the room, Misty still quietly sobbed, as did Ash. Standing behind Misty, the boy was tempted to bury his face into her back, wrap his arms around her waist, and cry himself into unconsciousness. But no. Ash was not the only one hurt by this moment, and God knew he had been selfish enough today.

I'm…I'm so sorry, Brock.

Once the youngest members were on the other side of the shut waiting room door, Nina released a breath she had been holding. Her revolver fully reloaded, the woman's eyes darted once from the magnum…to Brock.

Biting her lip for a second, Nina then took one step forward towards the dying teenager. Why, oh why, was Nina graced with this morbid duty? "You' sure about this, Brock?"

Unable to hold up his head anymore, Brock's head dropped in one tired nod. It was getting darker…colder…yet lighter…hungrier…

"T-take…care of them…for m-me."

The policewoman's chest squeezed. Nina blinked a few times, before leveling her gun's barrel at Brock. Children were her weakness, and Nina never intended for this to happen. Yet, Nina did believe it was better for her hands to be stained in Brock's blood, not Ash and Misty's. Releasing the magnum's safety, Nina took another deep breath and promised. "Of course."

Ash and Misty heard the defining bang. The noise was all it took for the two kids to shudder, and then slide down against the waiting room's door. The girl buried her face into the boy's chest, and the boy buried his face into the girl's red hair. Arms wound tightly around each other, holding themselves together, lest they break into a million pieces. Then, the two trembling children and Pikachu just wept soundly. For the moment, grieving seemed to be the only plausible thing they could do for Brock anymore. It was the simplest price to pay for living.

TO BE CONTINUED


A/N: Never say I didn't warn you guys, though we all saw it coming. I honestly can't picture this chapter's end being a big revelation.

Reader patience has FINALLY been rewarded regarding the zombie Pokemon! FYI: the summary for this story does say, "the residents and 'Pokemon' aren't quite as 'dead' as authorities claimed." So, you guys should've known the Pokemon zombies would show up eventually. Incidentally, I've noticed that most (but not all) RE games wait a short while before their zombiefied animals/monsters debut. Usually, players have to fight the human zombies in the games' start, and a short while afterwards zombified animals/creatures appear to make the game more challenging. In keeping with RE traditions, I purposely waited a few chapters before the Pokemon zombies showed up.

To potential wonderers: the Spearows segment was not entirely a rip-off of Hitchcock's classic The Birds. Resident Evil is notorious for having infected black crows peck people to death (though I've always assumed Capcom got the idea from The Birds and incorporated it into the RE games). But since I love RE and The Birds, it was double the fun for me to write. ^_^ The only reason I used Spearows instead of black Murkrows (which look more like RE's black crows) was b/c I think high-pitched Spearow caws sound creepier. Spearows are also far more vicious than Murkrows, too. Plus, I need to be a teensy-weensy bit original, neh?

For the record: Brock's monologue/death was a total bitch for me to write (*sniff*). Speaking of "bitch," I suppose that's my new nickname thanks to this chapter, eh? I did have a reason behind killing Brock first (and I've discussed it with a few readers before). No. I do not hate Brock, or hold any asinine grudges against him that would provoke me to kill him for sadistic pleasure. The reason I killed Brock early was solely b/c of poetic irony. He's the wisest and most mature member of the twerps. Killing Brock destroys the stable backbone of the twerp trio, leaving Ash/Misty more vulnerable and inclined to mature faster. (The same regards Jessie's injury…she's James and Meowth's leader). In Ch.1, Ash and Misty kept bickering like brats. Now without Brock around, the two have to grow up, get along...else they'll never survive this night. Plus, it's sheer irony that Brock would fall victim first, since he's far less reckless/brash than his younger friends. These are my reasons, and you're welcomed to agree/hate them.

Well, helluva chapter, neh? There's plenty more ahead in Ch.5. Who wants to know how Ash/Misty move on? Who wants to see what happens to Jessie? Who wants to find out what the hell that creature was at the end of Ch.3? Patience, patience, my friends! Ch.5 will be posted next week. Seriously, thanks to all who read this insanely long chapter. I'd appreciate feedback/reviews about it.