A/N: As a six-days-until-Christmas present to you, I have managed to (finally) finish this chapter! I doubt I will update any other day before Christmas, so merry Christmas to everyone who read this fic! I present you with one of my dad's locally-famous chocolate chip cookies. Expect the next chapter sometime before January 5th!
Foxyjosh: Thanks for pointing out that mistake! Have an extra cookie for your help!
- P I C H U P I C H U -
Misty couldn't find her capacity to breathe as she slowly stood up, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. It was eerily quiet again, aside from the walls taunting them, repeating that last word. Terminated…Terminated. She looked up at Cara, searching desperately for some sort of condolence from her. But Cara was, after all, only a bit more than a year older than Misty; she was just as upset by this news, her lips pursed together as she fought back tears.
"Now—" Ms. Barret choked on her words, just as frightened and upset as anyone here. She was in almost as much danger as they were, Misty realized dimly. Almost as much—she probably wasn't going to be killed upon capture, though. At least not right away. "Now, I want you all to—to follow me. Right now. I will lead you to the secret passageway out. I'll tell you the safest route away from here, and I want you all to stick together. No matter what happens…keep going. No matter what," she repeated emphatically. "Understood?"
No one spoke a word. Each orphan just nodded in assent, eyes on the floor.
Ms. Barret turned towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms, but before she even took a step towards it there was a sudden series of bangs on the front door. Sirens suddenly blared, alerting the occupants of the building to the presence of police and such—the OCHCPS was evidently here already. Someone shouted through a megaphone, "This is the Organization for Control of Illegal Hybrids, Clones, and Pokémon Species! Surrender the hybrids now, and come out with your hands up!"
Ms. Barret paled, her face turning sheet white, and Misty was sure she was going to either faint due to shock or have some sort of heart attack. Misty felt her ingrained faith in those older than her shaken to its very roots. Ms. Barret was an adult. Adults never got scared; adults were always brave, always strong, and always knew what to do. Seeing Ms. Barret scared half to death was frightening Misty more than their imminent doom was. If even Ms. Barret was scared…
Suddenly her eyes flashed with a sudden burst of courage and she lifted her head challengingly. She couldn't xplain where this sudden bravery came from, but whatever these OCH-whatever people wanted her to do, she would never do it. The other so-called orphans seemed to be thinking along the same lines, although no one was really doing anything about it. The voice screamed at them again when no one came out willingly. "Then we will use force! We will get those hybrids!" Misty shrieked in alarm and immediately clung to the nearest piece of furniture as the household suddenly shook; the officers were using their Pokémon to ram into the locked door repeatedly.
The sudden assault must have brought Ms. Barret to her senses, for now she forged on, heading down the hallways at a rapid pace. The children followed like ducklings did their mother. They whisked past the boys' dormitory, the girls' on the other side of the hallway, the bathrooms, the numerous closets, until, finally, they came to the door at the end of the hallway. It looked rickety and dull with disuse; no one had ever been inside since as long as Misty could remember, since it had always been locked, nor could she recall it ever being cleaned. She shuddered at the thought of all the bugs that would surely be crawling around inside.
"Misty!" Ms. Barret was signaling to her, gesturing for her to follow the other children as the sound of splintering wood grew more obvious. Misty quickly obliged. They filed in record time into the usually locked room—or, rather, staircase, because what was hidden behind this old door was a spiraling stairway. There were no lights, and no windows. Misty could tell by the low ceiling, though, and the faint light that came in through the still open doorway, that the staircase led downwards. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Ms. Barret quietly shut the door behind them. For a moment when she turned back around, she could see the other hybrids in front of her, but then they were plunged into pitch darkness. A click, and it was evident that the door was locked again. "Go straight down," the voice of Ms. Barret whispered. "Be careful, and try not to fall. There's another set of stairs close by once you reach the bottom; you'll need to go up them and through the trap door leading outside. When you're outside, go hide in the woods. I'll send someone to help you when I can." A murmur of assent sounded from the children as they cautiously but still quickly dashed down the stairs. Misty was glad that none of them were wearing shoes; if they were, the racket of eleven pairs of shoe soles hitting the steps at such a rapid pace would have caused a racket like none other! Socks were much quieter, and therefore safer.
Just as the last child reached the bottom landing, they heard the front door splinter loudly like a gunshot and give way to the OCHCPS investigators. There probably wasn't much time left for them to escape. They darted for the upwards staircase in a flash, scrambling up it as if their lives depended on it. Misty suppressed a shudder as she realized that such a scenario was actually plausible right now.
They were close to the top when someone exclaimed, "I've found it!" The hushed cry sounded loud in the enclosed area, and Misty recognized the voice of Jasmyn. "I can see the trap door! I'm just tall enough to open it!" A quick prayer of thanks to Mew rang out, and Misty breathed out a sigh of relief. They might just make it out of this alive after all. She quickly hurried up this second set of stairs, at the top of which the others quickly gathered. Misty watched as one by one they scrambled out through the exit.
"Hurry!" Ms. Barret whispered as Misty, the only one still inside, hesitated to leave. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to soak up as much of the place's essence as she could; it was hard to imagine that this place was no longer safe for her, but finally she gave in. The young girl finally slipped outside, giving a farewell nod to her caretaker. She understood without need of explanation that Ms. Barret could not come with them, for their sake. She would hinder them; she was too big to slip away unnoticed.
She slipped behind a tree nearby and heard the trap door shut almost silently. After a moment she dared to peer out from behind her hiding spot. They'd emerged at the edge of a grove of trees that grew beside the orphanage. Men and women, donning black uniforms emblazoned with golden lettering across the front and emblems on their sleeves, were stationed everywhere, and their Pokémon were scattered about the area. Not a single one looked distracted or preoccupied; there was no way to escape, except head through the trees as Ms. Barret had suggested and hope that there weren't any people doing exactly what they were now. Her hopes fell slightly as she thought of how hard it would be to escape. No one was wearing anything to conceal his or her ears or tail; it was the first time any of them had been outside without the protective headwear. How could they evade the guards and flee safely? There was a stupid girl wearing that uniform that was standing barely five feet away from them; luckily, her Pokémon were either in their Pokéballs or elsewhere, but it still wouldn't be easy getting away.
As if Misty's thoughts had summoned her, the female agent turned to look in her direction. At once, she whipped back into her shelter, but her hopes were now completely shattered as she realized it was too late. She had been spotted. Viola proceeded to sneeze and further clarified their positions. "Hey!" the urgent and angry cry went up. "The hybrids are escaping though the back!"
Misty grumbled a rather non-childlike curse as agents ran toward the escapees in droves. She turned and fled a few steps, then stopped. In her hand, sweaty due to fear, she still clutched the Pokéball she'd been given. It was still warm, and shuddered a little; let me out, the Pokémon inside seemed to beckon. I'll help you.
Of course!
"Go, uh, whatever Pokémon you are!" Misty commanded, tossing her Pokéball into the air, just as many others from the orphanage did so. The white light on the ground that shot out from her Pokéball formed first into an oval shape, slowly growing more lean, then sprouted four willowy legs. Pointy ears poked out from a head with a slender muzzle. A curly tuft of hair burst from between the ears. Six fluffy tails that curled at the ends fanned the air as the light died away, revealing its reddish-brown fur.
"Vul! Pix vul!" growled the Pokémon defensively, immediately positioning itself—or herself, rather—into a battle stance.
"Ahh, cool! I got a Vulpix," Misty crowed, grinning in spite of the danger she was in. She adored Fire-type Pokémon—especially cute Fire type Pokémon! Vulpix just so happened to be one of her favorites. What a coincidence.
"They're armed!" hollered one agent as he watched the Vulpix lunge at one of his Pokémon, a Houndoom. The Pokémon of her fellow orphanage-mates were appearing everywhere you looked and shouting battle cries. "Grab them before they attack!" continued the officer, immediately attempting to snatch up her Vulpix. Misty shouted a command as all around her the other agents lunged for the children and the Pokémon sprang into action. They were fending off the agents surprisingly well.
A sudden scream jolted Misty out of her thoughts of battle. Cara! All thoughts of defending herself and her Vulpix were forgotten in an instant. She immediately scrambled towards the voice, her Vulpix letting out a squeak of alarm as its trainer hurried off. "Cara!" she called out desperately. "Cara, where are you?" There was no reply as she dashed by other Morphs and agents fighting. "Cara, no!" Finally she spotted Cara from afar; the Ditto Morph had been tackled and shoved down to the ground by an OCHCPS agent, along with her Tailow, who was still desperately trying to save its new trainer by pecking at the agents' heads.
What was she doing? She wouldn't just stand there like a dumbstruck idiot while one of her best friends, her "sister," was being taken from her! No way, no how! She attempted to race off to the battle of wills, but it was to no avail, for a group of agents barred her way, sending their own Pokémon into combat with her own little Vulpix. "Cara!" Misty cried out again desperately, oblivious to anything going on around her. She could just barely see through the forest of legs—she wasn't any taller than the agents' waists. Cara's head had whipped around to look in her general direction, and as if heartened by the sound of Misty's voice she struggled all the harder against he who was holding her down. But it was to no avail; the man was twice her size and strength. Still forcing her face into the dirt with his weight, he held her hands behind her back and quickly tied them together. The bonds were pulled tightly and she was confiscated of her Pokéball. With a shriek of alarm, Cara's Tailow was recalled back into its Pokéball. Misty struggled to dodge around the agents battling her, but they moved to block her way. The man stood up and spoke to her for a moment, towering over her threateningly. Cara flinched, but made no move to get up from where she still lay from being thrown onto the ground. Misty could see her face now. The force of the tackle had made Cara's nose bleed, and a thick, steady river of crimson was trickling its way into her open mouth. She was visibly panting. Dirt was smudged all over her face and arms. She said something Misty couldn't hear; then the man smiled cruelly and picked Cara up by the collar of her shirt. She was screaming again. The pressure on her throat was making it difficult even to do that. He carried her halfway across the clearing; by the time they reached a truck, the type that moving companies generally use, Cara's face was purple and blue from her restricted air intake. He flung open the back doors and threw her—yes, literally threw her—into the truck. The single moment that it took for him to shut the doors again lasted a lifetime for Misty.
Four crumpled bodies were inside, not counting Cara. Two pairs of Eevee ears and one bushy Eevee tail attached to three of the figures collapsed inside alerted Misty to the fact that the triplets had been captured. No surprise there; they must have cornered one and the other two had futilely come charging to the rescue. Mess with one, you messed with all three. Still, it upset Misty to see Viola, her other closest friend besides Cara, lying limply on the hard floor of the truck, only the top of her head visible. The other captive was Xavier, a Minun Morph, Jasmyn's brother, a deep cut on one ear and a tiny dark puddle slowly growing on the floor of the truck beneath it.
Misty took a step back as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She turned her head away; she couldn't bring herself to look over there anymore. Instead she looked around her. Her stomach clenched as she realized that only she was left standing. Jasmyn and Abigail were struggling against the hordes of agents toting them to the truck. Misty held her stomach and nearly doubled over, unaware of an Ember attack flying over her right shoulder. She felt like she was going to be sick; this was too much for her. She was all alone…until they got her, too. And surely it wouldn't take too long.
She took a few deep breaths and stood up again. The feeling of physical sickness still lingered, but it had lessened just slightly. The agents were rushing towards either her or the truck. This time one carried a tranquilizer gun, and he was aiming it for her Vulpix, whom Misty had just remembered was there. Vulpix, still fighting to protect her charge—or was it trainer?—she, Misty, should be more like that! There was no giving up, now that she'd lasted this long. She was going to fight to stay free.
She glanced at the truck, knowing that they all were inside, about to be carted off to their deaths. Bleeding. Vulnerable. The way they were treated spoke louder than anything the OCHCPS members could say themselves. Cara, Viola, the others, even herself—they were looked at as nothing more than creatures. Creatures without feelings, nothing more than experiments, stupid hybrids that deserved what they got. They were Pokémon Morphs, they were something entirely different, they were a new species, something never encountered before—and so they weren't alive. No one considered their humanity. They were humans, too!—but no one thought of their human side, only of their Pokémon heritage, only of the illegality of their existence. They were different, so they didn't deserve to be treated as living things.
Vulpix dodged the first tranquilizer dart. Most of the agents, twenty, thirty of them, were gathered around, watching, just watching, interested to see who would win, eager to keep out of the way of the darts. The second attempt brushed through the fur on her back, a miss that was too close for comfort. The agent was looking angry now, frustrated that he was unable to hit his target. Vulpix scoffed, spit out a few embers, and grinned mischievously, as if mocking him. "Stupid Pokémon," he complained loudly. "Give it up! Don't you know what kind of monster you're defending?"
And that was the straw that broke the Numel's back. Misty's eyes narrowed. She clenched her fists tightly. We don't even have a say in this. We're just—just pests, just stupid freaks of nature! We are nothing to them! Her heart pounded, pumping pure anger and adrenalin through her veins. She didn't notice the sparks jumping from one ear to the other, making her hair stand on end. Her vision blurred with tears, she lifted her head and screamed a single word:
"Stop!"
She didn't think; it just happened. As a matter of fact, she didn't even know how it happened. A moment after her outburst she saw him crumpled on the ground; the tranquilizer gun had fallen, unharmed, onto the ground a foot away from him. Sparks were shooting off from every surface on her, not just her ears anymore, and her clothes were blackened in some places, even burned away in some small areas. The sparks felt like little tingles running up and down her body, though she barely noticed the feeling. The man's clothes were charred, worse than her own were, his hair sticking up in erratic spikes. The grass around him was black. She didn't look at his face; she didn't want to look at his face; she couldn't look at his face, for fear of what she'd see there.
She didn't need to, anyway. She knew he was dead.
Misty found herself rooted to the ground; she couldn't move, even though she tried. Her head swam, her throat prickled, her stomach felt awfully strange. She'd just killed someone! Oh, Arceus and Mew, she'd killed someone. She was seven, and she'd killed someone. Luckily, she hadn't fainted yet, although she'd no idea that the strange symptoms she was experiencing were indiction of being close to fainting.
Vulpix looked stunned, even sickened to some extent. The weaker witnesses lost their lunches, wiping their mouths on their black sleeves; some, like Misty was close to doing, promptly fainted on the spot. The rest looked deathly pale, and some of them had rushed up to their fallen comrade. "Someone call the paramedics, fast!" came a cry. "There's no pulse; someone needs to help, someone who knows CPR; he's not breathing!"
They were all swarming around him, a sea of black uniforms with "OCHCPS" written in silver lettering on the front. Their Pokémon leapt around, trying to get a view of what was going on; the more timid ones shied away into the bushes, whimpering. "He had a family," Misty heard a voice say quietly. "What will they tell his daughters…and what will happen to us now?"
"Show's over for you, kid. Get out of here while you can!" another voice told her. Misty didn't question who it was. She had to go; she had to get far away from here! Her feet were unstuck from the ground; she began to run, run as fast as she could. Vulpix followed, limping.
"Hey! Freak, you aren't getting away!" The sudden shout made her run even faster. She didn't turn to see who had said it, just kept running. Her heart pounded in time with her footsteps. She panted, willing herself to keep running. She heard his heavy footsteps. He was bigger than she was. He was catching up. A dart whizzed by her ear but she kept going. She didn't want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted to live, and find out who she really was, and try to save the others if they weren't dead yet.
The edge of the forest was in sight.
She had to keep going—!
She felt the pinch of the tranquilizer dart as it punctured the skin on the back of her left thigh. She flinched. She was getting sleepy…so sleepy…but she had to keep going…she couldn't stop…no…she wasn't going to make it…she didn't want to die.
She stumbled. Her world went black.
