Locke and Key: A Nuzlocke Story
Okay, author's note. From now on, I'll be including a 'current team roster', as much for the reader's sake as for my own. I've lost a few Pokemon, gained several, changed my team up, and it'll just help remind any readers (and myself) of the current team.
The reason I say 'myself' is because I'm currently in Seafoam Islands with a much more advanced team, and although I wrote some stuff down while playing, I mostly am going from memory here. That includes levels and moves, as well as other trainer's Pokemon in the area, but I'm trying to be as accurate as possible.
Okay, author's note over.
"To really know someone is to have loved and hated him in turn."
- Marcel Jouhandeau
The first thing I noticed when I reached the end of the cave – the Rockets surely weren't serious about excavating fossils.
Very few grunts remained in the cave by the time I'd gotten to the end, but there was one with a Raticate who put up a fight.
The thing the Rocket sent out wasn't a real Raticate anymore, though. I'm not trying to tell you it was a cyborg, or some zombie-like clone the Rockets created to replace real Pokemon. I'm telling you the soul had gone out of it. Its small, dark eyes were just that – dark, hollow, tired. It bared its teeth at me, a horrifying sight, but its battle spirit had dissipated long ago.
I almost felt like it was unfair to defeat it – it wasn't a real Pokemon anymore. The Raticate was used up, burned out. Team Rocket had stolen its soul and used it for money to fund their hateful crimes against people and Pokemon.
I sent out Kashen, who hadn't gotten too much experience in Mt. Moon. My Charmeleon was tense, tail swinging to cause the heat in the small cave rise. The ugly Raticate launched itself at Kashen without any order from its trainer, and I struggled to maintain control over a furious Charmeleon myself.
What I saw sickened me. The Raticate wasn't fighting for its master; it wasn't carrying out orders for love, respect, or obedience. It was throwing itself around recklessly, wanting to kill and, maybe, be killed.
The ensuing battle was brutal for the physical reason, of course, but what I was truly sickened by was the Raticate's desire to kill... or die itself.
After a struggling, gory brawl that left Kashen panting and bleeding, while the carnage of his Raticate was laid open before him, the Rocket cursed me and snarled, "The boss will hear about this and crush you, little bitch!"
"Jeez, what are you freaks, the mafia?" I snapped, tired of the whole thing, worried for my Charmeleon. "Can't you accept defeat? Get the fuck out of this cave!"
"Oh, we're worse than any mafia," the Rocket sneered, kicking aside the blood-painted corpse of his Raticate. "And we aren't going to accept anything from some pretentious little slut in a short skirt who thinks she's a trainer!"
I gritted my teeth, fury building slowly like a volcano's magma build up inside. I would have erupted at this scum, but he only escaped into the darkness.
Unclenching my fists, I looked with some sadness down at the remains of his Pokemon. What kind of way was that to treat a partner in crime? Evil as Team Rocket appeared to be, Pokemon shouldn't ever be treated like this.
My pity faded, though. The Raticate wasn't suffering anymore; anyways, Kashen and I didn't truly kill it. It'd been dead long before this battle.
Gazing at the mess, Kashen touched my arm – and his claws, slick with blood, reminded me of his injuries.
"Kashen, buddy, can you walk?" I asked, worried. He tried to keep the straight, brave face he always wore, but I could tell his wounds were severe by the wince he gave as I touched his shoulder. Fear laced through me when I saw the pain clouding his face.
"Meleon," he muttered weakly.
"Okay… return." I pulled his Poke Ball out, heart hammering against my chest. I didn't have any more Potions; I'd used the last one on Xander during his level grinding.
"Oh, fuck. Kashen, I can't let you die," I told the empty air. "I won't."
"Hey… get away from my fossils!" Some little creep shouted at me from the dark. I turned, and – to my astonishment – beyond the bits of ancient bone the weirdo was crouched over, there was light. The end of the cave – which meant a city. A Pokemon Center. Kashen would live.
"Shut the fuck up. I don't want your motherfucking fossils," I shrieked, but I could tell he was itching to fight.
"Go, Xander!"
"Go, Grimer!"
A pile of purple sludge with gradient colors emerged, oozing and smiling snidely. Xander Astonish'd it senselessly, me battling more ruthlessly than I should have. The poor thing probably had a concussion, but I was past caring.
Suddenly, my Zubat opened its mouth, wicked sharp teeth gleaming faintly.
"Bite? Thank God. Finish it off!" I cried, pointing deliberately. The Grimer stood no chance; Xander took a chunk of toxic sludge away from it, though it was impossible for Zubat to be poisoned.
"Return, Grimer," sighed the other trainer. "Koffing, go!"
Xander had a tougher time with Koffing's higher defense – slightly spherical, Koffing was essentially a floating ball of toxic gas with an eternal smile on its face and a skull and cross bones beneath that blissful grin.
However, Bite was the victor to Koffing's Tackle, and my Pokemon and I proceeded with the Helix Fossil. I didn't give a shit. Fossils weren't my thing, really. I hadn't even gone into the museum in Pewter City. Know why? 'Cause I was one of those kids who would piss on the Alamo, that's why.
"We made it," I said softly, relishing the feel of open air on my face, rather than dusky, damp cave air with an overpowering scent of limestone and rust. The sky was dark, and the stars were faded over the city, where the lights were bright. I sighed shakily, carrying my Pokemon to the town.
It was nearly noon before I rose the next morning, camped outside – near Route Whatever. The one by Cerulean, a small, closed-off patch of grass near the city's entrance. I did finally rise, though, and called my three Pokemon out, ready to explore and possibly raise levels.
As I walked into the grass, Xander flying near my shoulder, Tobias and Kashen by my feet, a little growling noise was heard by all of us. The rustling grass parted to reveal a dusty, patchwork yellow desert mouse, eyes large and blue. It stared at us for a minute, then stepped forward, ready for battle.
"Huh. I like this guy." I gestured towards Tobias. "Come on. Your turn."
"Rata," Tobias exclaimed, jumping into the fray.
One Tail Whip and Tackle later, the Sandshrew was weakened sufficiently; it's low HP was evident by the heaving of its flanks. Tobias licked a paw idly while I threw my Poke Ball at the Ground type. Without any resistance, it clicked shut, and I smiled happily.
"Hah. Yes!"
Kashen came forward to lay his claws on the top of the Ball, and, biting my lip, I brightened and said, "Tradden. Your name is Tradden."
Kashen raised an eyebrow.
"Whatever. Saw it on a movie once."
My Pokemon and I were, thankfully, fully rested before I came upon an unpleasant surprise in Cerulean City.
Green Oak, of course, looking as handsome as ever with his goldish hair falling over his eyes – beautiful blue eyes – and his clothes fitting him expensively.
Behind him, a Pidgeotto trailed aerially - distant, yet obviously belonging to the Pallet Town quarterback, circling the air like a hawk about to dive for prey. I remembered the damn Pidgeotto, when it had been a chick, useless and weak. Now, well, it looked like it was a force to reckon with.
"Well, if it isn't Leaf." Green smirked. I smirked right back at him, full of the same fire I knew he was; but it was my fervent belief that mine was hotter and brighter.
"Hey, I appreciated you letting Brock know a real trainer was going to whoop his ass." My tone was arrogant.
"Tch. Just my civil duty, darlin'."
Manwhore.
"We gonna battle, or what?" I said, impatient.
"Right. Ready to lose?" With that, he smiled and pointed to me, and the Pidgeotto flew down, landing before its trainer with a cold look in its black-masked eyes.
Unlike Pidgey, who was short, plump, and brown and white, Pidgeotto were taller, leaner, with light tawny coloring, and the mane of hair the species wore was longer – neck-length – and a strawberry-red color. Its wings were powerful, and it was probably faster than all of my Pokemon.
Despite my hatred for Pidgey, I could feel my metaphorical mouth watering.
"Go, Tobias!"
My Rattata emerged, teeth bared viciously against the Pidgeotto, and I recalled that the two had battled before, on Route 2 – or was it 3? Eh. Whatever. I remembered that Pidgey and Rattata lived in harmony most of the time, but I was secretly happy to see my Pokemon making rivals out of Green's.
"Sand-Attack, Pidgeotto!" Green called, and the bird used sharp talons to kick dirt into Tobias' face. Sneezing, my Rattata hissed (I guess that's what you'd call that displeased noise?) and braced itself for battle.
"Quick Attack, Tobias."
"Counter it with your own Quick Attack, Pidgeotto!"
While my Rattata rushed forward, small white feet a blur, Pidgeotto spread its pretty tawny wings, rushing forward, the wind slightly ruffling the feathers.
Okay. I have an infatuation with strong bird Pokemon. I don't know why, but Flying types have always been my absolute favorite.
As Pidgeotto and Tobias hit each other head on, I suspected severe damage on both parts, but was pleased to see that they'd missed each other entirely. Tobias was still scratching sand out of his eyes, and Green's bird had just barely missed.
"Pidgeotto, Quick Attack!" Green called, firmer.
"Tobias, evade the attack and use Hyper Fang!"
As the Flying type swooped low, forming a torpedo-like formation to dive at Tobias, he duck-and-rolled, barely having time to chomp down on his wing tips.
In instant pain, Pidgeotto shrieked, and was dragged to the ground by Tobias' ruthless fangs. I could tell Tobias was exhausted, too, so I called him back, though he was far from defeated.
One down. Three to go.
Green gnashed his teeth and recalled Pidgeotto – his obvious favorite.
"Go, Squirtle!"
I withdrew Tobias and sent out Kashen, who looked grateful – as soon as he and Squirtle met eyes, their bodies tensed in a fashion similar to mine and Green's postures when he locked eyes. It kind of warmed my heart to see it.
"Squirtle, use Withdraw, then Water Gun!"
"Kashen, counter Withdraw with Leer, then dodge the Water Gun!"
My move worked; Squirtle's raised defense move was canceled out, and the water move missed Kashen.
"Kashen, Mega Punch!" Smirking, my Charmeleon drew back his fist, which glowed with physical power. I'm sure Green wondered where I'd gotten the move, but I wasn't about to clarify anything. Scratch had lost its purpose, and a kindly move tutor helped me out with that dilemma.
Squirtle flew backwards, weakened from the punch.
Kashen's mouth was bursting with flame when I looked again, and I got a bit worried. I hadn't ordered him to use Ember on Squirtle; why would I? Kashen had more effective attacks. And he never took the initiative; he'd always been observant and attentive to my orders.
Why was he so violent suddenly? Fire Pokemon were always a little wild, but Kashen – the Kashen I knew – was quiet, obedient, tough.
"Kashen, finish Squirtle with Metal Claw," I commanded, testing him. The flames in his mouth slowly disappeared, but I could see reluctance in the action. Instead, his claws shimmering, he swiped at Squirtle, who was finished for the match.
"Should'a let 'im evolve, Green. He'd be a better match for Kashen as a Wartortle," I chortled mockingly.
Green shrugged.
"I have plans for him. Anyways, Rattata, go!"
Ignoring Green's ominous words, I withdrew Kashen and sent out Xander.
"Zuzubat," he screamed wildly, flitting in the air like an idiot.
Green raised an eyebrow, but surprisingly, the little bitch kept his mouth shut.
"Rattata, Focus Energy!"
"Xander, Supersonic!"
Xander's confusing rays missed Rattata, who was 'pumped' for critical hits – my worst enemy. God, how I hate critical hits - that is, if they're on the opposing side.
"Whatever. Xander, Bite him until he faints."
Diving wildly, Xander took a few chomps of the Rattata, who struggled briefly in his attempt to Tackle and Quick Attack my slightly-crazed Poison type. His teeth buried themselves in Rattata's tail, and the rodent fainted, exhausted by Zubat's energy.
"Go, Abra!" Green was irritated now, I could tell.
"Tradden."
The Poke Ball revealed my Sandshrew, who was still fairly weak, but whom I had taught a strong attack.
"Rock Tomb, Tradden!"
"…Teleport."
Abra went nowhere, and after a few rounds of Rock Tomb, Tradden managed to defeat the narrow-eyed fox-like Psychic type. It sat, obliviously sleeping (maybe?), while Tradden threw heavy stones at it left and right.
"Okay. Fine. You win, Leaf." He sounded unhappy, but not entirely so. "Maybe next time I see you, you won't suck."
I blinked, then only laughed lightly.
"Yeah. Okay. See you, Green."
I watched him go, a smirk on my lips. Tradden noticed and pulled on my wrist.
"San san?" He seemed to inquire, tilting his head up towards mine.
"…Shut up. I hate that prick."
My words were true but hollow.
"Come on; there are trainers on the bridge, and I don't know about you pansies, but I'm ready for some hardcore grinding."
I'm pretty sure I was the only one, but despite groans amid my team, we stepped onto the bridge, unaware of the vault of surprises – bad, worse, and some good – that awaited us.
Current Team:
Charmeleon: "Kashen" – Male, Level 20
Rattata: "Tobias" – Male, Level 19
Zubat: "Xander" – Male, Level 19
Sandshrew: "Tradden" – Male, Level 10
- R.I.P "Grigori" the Caterpie: 4-5
