Mark: Hello there, friends! Let's play some games! *cackles, and pulls knives out of his pockets before collapsing in a heap*
Victoria: Yea... he's not feeling like himself...
Christi: Well obviously, I mean, who carries knives in their pockets with the blades POINTING UP?
Me: True... I better end this soon before he hurts himself.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokemon in any way, shape, or form. I only own the OC's.
NOTE: DUE TO THE NUMBER OF PERSPECTIVE CHANGES IN THIS CHAPTER, IT IS COMPLETELY NORMAL TO FEEL LOST.
Christi's View:
Something went seriously wrong. Seriously, seriously wrong. He's not himself. I turned to look at Victoria, who was cringing at the bloody sight in front of us. You know how you think everything's alright, but then something goes seriously wrong in movies? Yep, that's pretty much what happened. Several men dressed up in a strange uniform unknown to us Pokemon burst through the front and back doors, yelling something that sounded like "Police", but the next thing we know, we were being hoisted up by some of them and carried outside, while others pointed strange metal things at Mark and told him to put his hands up. He was still crouched in front of his father, still plunging the knife deeper and deeper into his shoulder, pulling it out then plunging it back in, lapping up the blood that sprayed into the air.
That was two weeks ago.
Mark's View:
He He He... I should have killed those two when I had the chance. But the blood was enough... That glorious, tasty, delicious red liquid... Mmmm... Makes my mouth water... I need more... More... MORE! MOOAARRR! FEED THE BEAST, BITCH! BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
Jim's View:
"Hey Jim, I'm about to go grab a couple of doughnuts and some coffee, want some?"
"Sure. Oh, but I like my coffee black."
"Got it. Just make sure that you're watching that psycho in there... I swear... He gives me the chills whenever he looks at me..."
"What, you're scared of that kid Anders?"
"I'm not saying I am, but seriously, trying to stab another prisoner with a spoon? Then he goes and cuts his wrist on a piece of metal in his cell and draws pictures of a family with his blood? You can't say that's not that fucked up."
"Yea yea yea... Whatever... Just go get that coffee before I fall asleep here."
"Okay... Just... be careful, OK Jim?"
"You got it Anderson."
Narrator's View:
The policeman named Anderson exited the station, heading down to his car, still thinking about the prisoner that he was, if he wanted to admit or not, afraid of. All he hoped was that Jim, the other policeman currently on shift, would not take the kid too lightly; The results of the doctor's examination on his parents were harsh. They would live, yes, but the damage done was a considerable amount. The mother had been found pinned against the wall, which, although drywall, was pretty thick. The switchblade embedded in her arm had shattered her humerus into 3 pieces, which was eventually cracked into 5 when she struggled against us, trying to get her unstuck from the wall. From what the doctor could tell, the knife needed a force of 10 tons to make it through her arm, and around 3 inches deep into the wall. The father, had a different story. His shoulder, which donned the stainless steel cleaver, was shattered. Completely useless now. The blade wasn't even that sharp enough to do that much damage. Something else was.
That kid.
Gloria's View:
As soon as I heard on the news that the info about a family who was assaulted by their teenage son two weeks ago was released by the police, I jumped towards my 60 inch plasma flat-screen, and laid down on our leather, diamond studded couch, and snapped my fingers, which one of the 20 maids or butlers standing against the wall walked forward and presented me with a cold, gold shaving topped root beer float. Good gossip like this is crucial to our family. It's always been, I never knew why. Anyway, I was staring up at the TV.
"Police say that the young, 17 year old teenager by the name of Chris DeVillo-" The newscaster started, but at that point, I was already out the door, heading over towards his house, my parents looking at each other in confusion as I sped away from our beach home in my new gold covered Lamborghini.
Christi's View:
Victoria and I put on our sweatshirts, like we did every day these past two weeks, and walked towards the station yet again. Seconds later, however, we were blinded as an extremely shiny vehicle screeched to a halt next to us. Squinting, we looked up to find Gloria looking over from the drivers seat.
"Hey, you two. Where's Chris now? C'mon I don't have that much time!" She said, looking a bit... concerned? Is that even possible for her? Whatever, I'll think about it later.
"He's at the police station. We're about to head there right now to see if they'd finally let us see him." I said, for the first time, out loud. These past events had changed her so much. She's been acting extremely strange as well. Hope she's okay.
"Hop in. I'll drive you guys." That was strange. Gloria didn't seem to be the type of person to be charitable. Nonetheless, we got in and were soon speeding towards the city.
"What's with all the weird looks?" Gloria asked, glancing at us. "And you," she continued, directing her next statement to Victoria, "What's with dressing your puppy up all the time?" Puppy? Oh right. Me. Mark had told me to act like a harmless puppy when in the company of people, or else blow our cover.
"Why, something the matter with putting on some clothes on a puppy?" Victoria asked, a bit of sauce in her voice. Like I said, she had changed. "Oh, right, Ms. I'm-so-fucking-fancy-don't-touch-me, do I have to lick your shoes for not meeting your standards? Or will you start treating me like you treated Mark?" She huffed. I was surprised. I've never heard Victoria swear before.
"Well then, Ms. Bitch." Gloria snorted back. I could feel Victoria's aura changing. And, just because I hated Gloria just as much, gave a little extra power to Victoria's punch as she lunged forward and smacked her in the face, leaving quite a mark, effectively causing her to slam down on the breaks. "Damn! Fuck you!" Gloria hissed, before launching a punch back to us.
That is, until she was pinned down by her seat belt. Victoria grinned at me, and I grinned back because we knew just what to do, and lunged at her.
Mark's View:
Damn. I can't chew these leather bindings off of this stupid jacket they have.
"Hey! Mr. Policeman!" No response. Fuck. Looks like I'm gonna have to sit here for quite a bit of time. Or, I can try to undo the bindings with my hands. Yea! Let's try that.
Narrator's View:
Mark sat there for a good 5 minutes, trying to figure out a way to get rid of the bindings on the straitjacket. He gave up looking for a way that would involve NOT hurting himself, and just broke his arms and twisted them enough to squeeze them out of the arm sockets and next to his chest. From there, he positioned his bones back where they were before, and lifted the shirt.
Good thing he can't feel pain. For the moment.
Jim's View:
"Hey! Mr. Policeman!" That stupid kid's voice echoed throughout the station.
"Fuck..." I groaned. I didn't want to get up. I had to though. Then again, there wasn't anyone there in the station to yell at him. There was a large drug bust going on somewhere, and he had chosen to stay back with Anderson as a sort of R and R. The doors burst open, and a little girl and her puppy walked in and towards the prison. I heard a spraying noise, like a spray can going off. A wave of sleepiness passed over me, and I struggled to stay awake.
"You can't... Go there..." I sighed, before passing out on the floor.
Christi's View:
Well, that was over with. We knocked Gloria out, took off her clothes and wrote, "Fuck My Tight Ass" on her stomach for the world to see, laid her out on the sidewalk and drove the car back to Mark's house, passing by anyone undetected thanks to Victoria's Psychic. We walked back towards the station, went in, knocked the guy out with random sleeping gas that was in the evidence bin, and continued on to Mark's cell.
We walked for a little bit, until we heard his usual sigh. Both of us stopped. We didn't know how he was, but all we know is that we wanted to see him. We nodded at each other, then stepped forward.
Mark's View:
Aw shit. This is gonna take some time to heal.
Or not. They don't hurt anymore. That's strange, usually they don't heal this fast. Oh well. I guess I'll look for a way to escape or something. I turned towards the cell door to find Victoria and Christi standing there.
"You seem familiar... Victoria? Christi? Is that really the both of you? I was changing back, thanks to them. Looking at how cute they were, and how worried they were for me, I found no reason to stay psychotic. I mean, how can you be when a little girl in a dress stares up at you with tears dripping down her face, knowing that those tears were for you?
"Hey girls, you miss me?" I said with a sniffle. I missed them. I really, truly missed them. Victoria unlocked the cell door, and I reached down and hugged the two of them, tears in my eyes. "Oh my god, how I've missed you two." I said, tears beginning to drip down my face. "And I'm so sorry for what I've done."
I faced Victoria to kiss her on the forehead, but she raised her head at the last minute, our lips connecting in a deep kiss. Her tongue pressed against my lips for entry, and I let her in. After a minute or two, I looked back at her, and she smiled warmly at me.
"I love you, Mark. With all my heart and soul, Arceus how I love you."
"I love you too, Victoria. And I will always love you, no matter what you do.
I faced Christi, now, not wanting to let her feel left out and went to kiss her forehead. Christi, however, pulled my face towards hers and kissed me deeply on the lips.
"I love you as much as Victoria does, Mark. I will always be there for you."
"I love you too, Christi. Both you and Victoria mean the world to me. I wouldn't have it any other way." I replied, pulling them both in for a hug and a kiss. "Well, there's only one problem now. How am I going to get out of this mess?"
The room darkened for a bit, lights flickering as a small, black, hole appeared in front of me. Curious, I peered in, before getting smacked in the face with the DS, which began to spin and hover there, beeping furiously.
Looks like we have another one.
Whew! I think I got a bit mixed up there. Sorry for all the POV changes, and for the chapter being so short, but I wanted to try it out to see how it would work. Aaand no. Not gonna happen again. To hard. Can't think straight. Brain... Hurts...
Hope you... Enjoyed... Love you... guys and gals...
-Chris Dragon
UPDATE: The next chapter might be coming out later than expected. I gotta think up of new ideas for the story. Don't worry, you'll get your chapters soon though. And your lemons, you perverts. :P
Alex: What the fuck am I doing here? This is the wrong story dude!
Me: Sorry... Right... Shit, is this gonna be a spoiler to High School Shadow? YOU KNOW IT FOLKS!
Alex: I have a few questions for you. Why did you make me into a suicidal Zoroark Pokemorph that's hated by everyone?
Me: Because it seems fun and I have a lot of ideas for you. See ya guys! Make sure to watch out for the new oneshot that'll be out soon!
