COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Pokemon / Pocket Monsters, Resident Evil / Biohazard, Cinderella, or Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

COMMENTS: Okey-doke, onto Ch.12! After all, I'm sure everybody's dying to know what happens after Ch.11's cliffhanger. ^_^

* Content Disclaimer: The latter portion of this chapter contains a potentially disturbing segment and gory violence. Readers are probably sick of reading this, but you should know the drill by now: reader discretion is advised.


CARNAGE NECROPOLIS

Aiselne Phoenix

FILE #012: "Outbreak at the Hospital"

Misty felt as though somebody kicked her in the back. No, on second thought, it was more accurate to claim Misty felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Even then, the allusion was lagging. At the moment, it was difficult for the poor redhead to understand the plethora of pains and emotions that overwhelmed her young body.

Perhaps the best comparison Misty could make at the moment was that she felt like someone stabbed her through the heart. Yes, that allusion was much more definitive. Some sick, sadistic, omnipotent bastard just ran a rusted lance through the girl's heart. The steel tip impaled her bleeding chest, and the long wooden shaft was plunged into the ground below her. Then the killer would abandon her in some nameless nowhere. Whatever remained of Misty would be left to die, propped like a kebob served on a skewer for Hades' scavengers to peck and drink her pouring life. Stunned and emptied, it felt as though there was nothing left of Misty.

Unfortunately, dying would be the easy way out of this hell, and Misty knew she was not that fortunate. She was still very much alive. Sadly, right now, living was more painful than the aforementioned death. Death meant peace and rest, and "peace and rest" were not privileges offered in Acheron City.

Everything spun on a spindle, faster and faster, coaxing the redhead to nearly succumb to seductive unconsciousness. Undeniably, Misty deserved a long blissful rest after tonight. The urge to give into the looming unconscious was so strong that the girl thought she actually passed out and was currently hallucinating. Which way was up? Down? Left or right? It was all the same: meaningless.

Surely, this chaos could only be credited to a dream. Perhaps everything that happened tonight was just some asinine nightmare after all. Eventually, Misty would wake up, tell Ash and Brock about her wacko dream, and the kids would have a hearty laugh. Brock would lecture something along the lines of "I think you've been watching too many scary movies, Myst." Knowing eloquent Ash, he would probably say some smart-assed tease such as "Misty's going crazy, Brock!" But either way, as long as tonight proved to be nothing more than a silly, stupid dream, Misty would be content.

However…

As nice as it would be for the events in Acheron to be just a silly, stupid dream, Misty knew better. She was not dreaming, and she sure as hell was not dead. Either of the two options was too generous for the likes of this nightmarish city, like "get out of jail free" cards. Fortunately, Misty was granted one way of being able to distinguish reality from fantasy, and she had Ash to thank for it.

"Misty...k-kill me."

Ash's words kept repeating in Misty's mind like a broken record. What was worse was how the record kept playing a horrid requiem: over and over and over and over and OVER and friggen OVER until its listener went insane! Madness would provoke the listener to shatter the record into a billion shards, but peace still would never come. The grating song would never leave the listener's etched memory, over and over, until Misty grabbed a gun and ended this Goddamned insanity once and for all! The red-haired girl was a resilient young woman, but everyone had his or her limits and Misty was no exception. Why the hell did she not just give up? Surely, nobody would frown upon Misty for honorably accepting defeat in this hopeless situation.

But of course, Misty had a reason not to give up.

Ash.

Yet…

"Misty...k-kill me."

And yet, Misty's "reason for not giving up" just asked…no, he told her to do the unthinkable.

"There's only one bullet left, Misty. Use it wisely."

The absolute most painful, gut-wrenching aspect of this unbelievable scene was that Misty had the means to carry out the retched deed, too.

Appalled tears watered her aquamarine eyes as Misty stared blankly at Ash. No. She did not want to hear or believe what the boy just spoke. Back and forth, the girl's head nervously shook in utter disbelief. Ash was known for saying incredibly stupid and downright unbelievable things, but…

"Misty...k-kill me."

…But those three little words were absolutely beyond Misty's comprehension.

Her first assumption was Ash's infection was warping his mind and making him say stupid things…stupider than usual, anyway. Chief Ulisse babyishly babbled incoherent nonsense upon his infection, though he infected himself with God-knew how many samples. Ulisse was obviously an "extreme" case of the Acheron infection. Conversely, Brock's infection did not seem to make him babble to the delirious extremes as Ulisse's. The teen was still capable of telling his friends his painful farewells, after all. Of course, both Ulisse and Brock had been infected in different ways: Ulisse self-infected himself, and Brock was bitten by a zombie. Tauris did mention something about there potentially being different side effects of infections, depending on the infector. Jessie had been bitten like Brock, but her symptoms were not 100% identicle to the teenager's, either. Hell, Jessie went on a malice streak during her infection! In Ash's case, Tentagator infected him, so there was no reason to assume the boy's symptoms would be identical to Brock's, Ulisse's, or Jessie's infections. So Misty automatically assumed Ash was just talking nonsense. The poor boy was too inebriated by his infection to realize what he spoke or did, and such squeezed what little remained of Misty's crushed heart.

Not even knowing how to undertake a situation such as this, Misty took a deep shaky breath to calm herself. Only a tiny fraction of her nerves calmed, but it was better than nothing. Now, more than ever, Misty could not afford to get flustered and throw logic and caution to the wind. Thinking logically was not an easy task, but Misty had to do it. She would do it. Yes, it was indeed true that Misty's magnum had one more bullet left in its chamber.

However, Misty was most certainly not about to use that final bullet on Ash! She did not care if Ash told her to do it. She did not care if every human and Pokemon in the world crowded around her and chanted, "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!" Misty would not even care if Fate claimed it was Ash's so-called predetermined "destiny" to die by Misty's hand! And she definitely would not listen if the gods ganged up on her and ordered Misty to kill Ash, lest she burn in Hell for all eternity. Whatever the odds, whatever the consequences, Misty would defy them all if that was what it took. She would sooner fire that bullet into her own skull before killing Ash!

"A-Ash..." Misty's voice crackled, but she persevered as best as possible. If there was no way of being prepared for this crazy night, then there was no way Misty could have been prepared for this very moment. So when all else failed, Misty did the best she could: speaking with her heart, the only part of her that seemed capable of handling Ash's breaking words.

Fortunately, Misty knew that even though Ash's words broke her heart, they broke his heart, too. The hopeless tears she saw filling the boy's brown eyes were the only evidence supporting the notion that, infected or not, Ash was still Ash. It was not the infection that drove the raven-haired boy to say such painful words. Ash was speaking through his own will and with his own heart. Misty had not lost Ash just yet.

"Misty...k-kill me."

Misty had no intentions of losing Ash, either.

Blinking away her own tears, Misty carefully placed a hand on the boy's cold right knee. As if her hand pressed a pressure plate to activate a mechanism, Ash's head instantly lowered, almost shamefully. Misty's next automatic assumption was that the eternally prideful Ash was embarrassed for getting infected. The temperamental redhead did have tendencies of lecturing Ash whenever he did something brash or got himself into trouble. The perfect example was whenever Ash spent an afternoon training in the pouring rain. Misty and Brock would warn Ash about the dangers, and he would justify his foolishness by claiming "smart Pokemon Masters train in rain or shine!" To be expected, a few hours later, the self-proclaimed "smart Pokemon Master" would return to Misty and Brock with a scratchy throat and runny nose. Then for the next few days, Brock and Pikachu would listen to the oh-so melodious orchestras of Ash's "a-choos!" followed by Misty's "I-told-you-sos!"

However, tonight was no such case. For once, Ash's current state was not on account of recklessness, clumsiness, foolishness, or any of the other typical culprits that instigated the accident-prone boy's hospital visits. In fact, Ash was indisputably innocent in this matter. The boy's injury was identical to that of a solider wounded while defending his country. By no means did Misty consider Ash's attempts at saving Pikachu to be "reckless." Ash's efforts in protecting his precious first Pokemon might have been in vain, but they were nevertheless heartfelt. If anyone was to blame for Ash's injury, it was Tentagator.

More specifically, Team Rocket was at fault. After what happened in the chemical plant, Misty understood that Tentagator was just another weapon in Team Rocket's arsenal. A weapon may take a life, but that was only because someone initially used, set free, or ordered that weapon to take lives. This did not mean Misty forgave or felt sorry for the tentacle fiend. If given the opportunity, she would happily kill the bioweapon freak, perhaps with the one bullet Nina gave Misty. Still, the girl's eyes had finally been opened to understand the rightful "monsters" of Acheron City, and scariest part about it was none of those monsters were undead.

But Ash…Ash isn't a monster.

If Ash believed Misty would lecture him for getting infected, he was going to be disappointed. There certainly was no reason for Ash to be ashamed, either. True, getting infected was nothing to celebrate, but Misty still believed Ash should be proud of himself for doing his very best to save Pikachu. And if Ash believed "death" was a justifiable consequence for his infection, then Misty was going to disappoint him all over again.

"If you d-die...I might-"

Misty still had yet to forget Ash's earlier semi-suicidal words, too.

"Misty...k-kill me."

Déjà vu is a bitch.

"Don't you DARE talk like that, Ash Ketchum! Don't even THINK about things like that, Ash! Do you hear me?"

She was not going to reiterate herself. Misty easily recalled her earlier discussion with Ash, and she had a sinking suspicion Ash was recalling the same memory. If he were not thinking her identical thoughts, then Ash would not have started chewing his lower lip. The emotional boy was not exactly a textbook definition of "discreet."

Misty was not looking forward to this conversation, but she did not have much of a choice. "Ash, don't talk like this," softly spoke Misty, swallowing a lump forming in her throat. There was no way she was going to allow Ash to give up, and Misty was certainly not going to carry out the deed of killing him, either. She promised that the duo would get through this night, and Misty was going to keep her promise. In her eyes, there were no excuses for Ash to be talking so fatalistically.

"There's no reason for you to say such things, Ash. None of this is your fault." Misty had already traversed this topic as well, and she was not going to rehash that conversation, either. To Misty's knowledge, Ash had no excuse to justify spiraling back into his earlier bout of self-loathing and hopelessness.

If only Misty knew…

"Misty...I-I'm so sorry...I'm...so..."

"N-nooo! S-top! GE-T 'WAY! …P'EASE! I-"

Technically, Ash never told Misty about the first nightmare he endured in Acheron City, the one that painstakingly foreshadowed Pikachu's demise. Almost as punishment for ignoring the earlier dream, Ash lost Pikachu. Now, history was repeating itself. The boy had a dream about Misty's death, and by God, Ash was not going to make the same mistake twice! What more of a hint did Ash need? Hell, the dream was not even a "hint," it was a friggen "declaration" that you WILL kill Misty!

"There's no reason for you to say such things, Ash. None of this is your fault."

Part of Ash knew this matter was not his fault. To say he fully absolved himself for tonight's deaths in Acheron City was a lie. The guilt no longer hurt as relentlessly as before Misty's earlier lecture, but the guilt still occasionally stung. Ash accepted that Team Rocket was the spider spinning a deadly web in Acheron. But there was still that nagging little voice pestering Ash, reminding that he was the reason Brock and Pikachu innocently walked into Team Rocket's web. Perhaps it was oxymoronic of Ash to think that way: forgiving and not forgiving himself all at once. Yet, the wounds left in the wake of his friends' deaths were still fresh, and they were not expected to heal overnight. In time, Ash expected the wounds to stop bleeding. In time, he would accept what happened tonight. In time, he would forgive himself and get on with his life. In time…

…But "time" was not in overabundance at the moment, was it? Ash did not even know about the damn lockdown, and yet the boy still knew he and Misty were fighting an emptying hourglass. The only difference was that Ash's hourglass was keenly fixated on the boy's infection. Sooner than later, Ash would become one of the demons he fought in Acheron City. Perhaps this was justice.

After all, Ash did agree earlier that of he ever got infected…he would have Goddamned deserved it.

But it no longer mattered. Whether or not Ash deserved this infection, he did not believe Misty deserved to die, especially by Ash's hands. Misty claimed tonight was not Ash's fault, but if kids did not hurry, Misty's death would be Ash's fault.

Just like my dream...when I hurt her. But...I didn't just 'hurt' her, Ash disturbingly remembered, the disgusting images replaying through his mind. Misty cried and screamed in agony, and he was the one making her cry and scream in agony. He killed her and he tore her to bloody pieces. It was all because of him, and it did not matter if Ash meant to kill Misty or if he meant to save her. The end result was that Misty would die. Who gave a shit about the details? Death is still death, no matter how many pussyfoot excuses, good intentions, and pointed fingers were issued to "justify" or "ease the pain."

"I'm…I-I'm infected, Myst…" Ash choked matter-of-factly, staring at the liquefied image of his mutilated right leg. He could feel the virus devouring his body and sanity bit by bit, but Ash still had a firm enough grasp on his will to stay focused. Ash did not fully understand the side effects of the Acheron virus. However, whatever Tentagator tossed into Ash's bloodstream must have been dissimilar from Brock and Jessie's infections. Even Ash could tell there was a significant difference between Tentagator and Acheron's typical zombies. Whether or not this "difference" would lead to good or bad results, Ash preferred not to find out, at least with Misty nearby. If she refused to kill Ash, the next best alternative was for Misty to run. The bottom line was "I don't…want to h-hurt you."

This moment was getting a tad too reminiscent of Brock's last moments.

"I don't…want…h-hurt you…g-go…still…can!"

Ash did not want a repeat performance of Pikachu's demise, but Misty did not want a repeat performance of Brock's demise, either. The memories alone forced Misty to blink back more oncoming tears. It was ironic how Ash swore he did not want to hurt Misty. Yet, Ash's painful words were hurting her deeper than any wounds he could have inflicted as a zombie. Even if Ash mutated right this second and ripped Misty to ribbons, the shredding pain would probably be miniscule compared to Ash's hurtful words.

I do NOT want to lose Ash! "Ash…I know you won't hurt me," Misty knew with the utmost certainly, shaking her head to claim dominance over the tempting tears. Breaking down was not in Misty's favor, even though Ash's words most certainly had the power to make Misty cry.

In her younger years, schoolyard bullies often tormented Misty with crude phrases such as "why aren't you as pretty as your big sisters?" Misty was too tough of a tomboy to give those bullies the satisfactions of seeing her cry. Fistfights and punishments always followed. Her older sisters would not be pleased when Misty came home, usually with a not-so-nice note from her teacher explaining the redhead's behavior at school. But in her sisters' favors, once Daisy, Violet, and Lily understood the reason behind Misty's actions, they were the first to defend and comfort their baby sister. Only then would Misty let go of the tears. The elder sisters were notorious for teasing Misty, but they never tolerated it whenever someone from outside the family dared to mock Misty.

This situation was not overly different, albeit only reversed on a few levels. Ash's hurtful words were most definitely taunting Misty with oncoming tears, just like those cruel bullies did years ago. Nevertheless, the headstrong redhead remained as steadfast as possible, knowing later in a more fitting location she could relinquish her sorrow. But as for the 'comfort' side of the stories, the roles were reversed. Misty was not technically the only one who needed reassuring words to alleviate the pain. Because, no matter how much Ash's spoken words cut Misty, it was painstakingly obvious that the words cut Ash ten times deeper.

"Ash…I KNOW you won't hurt me."

To be expected, the boy's quivering lips parted, obviously to contradict Misty's notion. Having the clairvoyance to expect Ash's stubborn rebuttal, Misty's index finger shut his lips as quickly as they opened. She did not want to listen to the boy's pessimism, especially because "I'm gonna' find that vaccine, Ash."

Brown eyes blinked once, apparently not believing Misty's promise. Well, that just meant Misty was going to have to try harder to convince Ash. With her other hand, Misty carefully stroked the back of her fingers across the boy's cooling cheek. She had to remind herself not to bog down with that morbid detail. Infection or no infection, Ash was still himself, and that was enough for Misty. If he could overcome this hell, so could Misty.

"I will find the vaccine," Misty repeated, though with greater certainty and determination than before. For added assurance, the girl drew closer to the boy, eyes locking with no possible room for disputes or negativity. The finger she had over Ash's mouth went to his other cheek, holding the boy's head in place to keep him focused. Misty had a duty to cleanse Ash of his infection. However, the redhead also had a duty to cleanse the disheartened boy of his self-inflicted torment, rooted in Brock and Pikachu's deaths. Misty was not stupid enough to believe Ash had fully gotten over that issue, if he ever would get over it. "And when I do find that vaccine…" sweetly added Misty, "…I'm gonna' make you all better."

Her promise was wrapped in a watery smile, and from Ash's perspective, the smile almost looked maternal. A few hours ago, Misty was ranting and raving as though there was no tomorrow. But perhaps fiery Misty did have a gentle maternal side, considering Togepi, plus all the ways Misty nursed Ash's wounds tonight. Ash knew he was in Misty's good hands, but…it was his own hands Ash worried about. What if I…

Ash just could not get those images out of his mind.

I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to lose her.

"Get…way' from…ME!"

But…what if…

"Get…gt…AWA-Y! Oh…God…s…omeone' he-lp! HELP!"

…What if…the vaccine doesn't work?

"I…sa-id…gt 'way! Dam…yu-ou! Gt-get a…AWAY!"

If…if I can't stop myself…

"N-nooo! S-top! GE-T 'WAY! …P'EASE! I-"

…If…I…k-k-kill her…

No. Misty was wasting too much time! She should not even bother searching for the stupid vaccine. The girl needed to run as fast as her legs could permit, far away from this city, far away from danger…far away from…Ash…

Just like before, Ash opened his mouth to protest. Just like before, Misty expected his response, and she shut up Ash before any unwanted words escaped his mouth. But very unlike before, Misty's fingers were too busy to silence the dispirited boy.

So her lips did the honors.

Granted, now was a very inopportune time for this, so Misty kept it brief. But even a quick peck was powerful enough to slice through Ash's horrid "what-ifs." As if she possessed the power, Misty's lips drained Ash's poisonous thoughts. Acheron's vaccine was supposedly "purified blood." Conversely, Misty best resembled purifying waters, sparkling like the moisture she felt dampen the fingers caressing Ash's cheeks. Misty was mindful to wipe away his tears as she parted, noticing Ash's said cheeks had gone from cold to lukewarm for a millisecond. His brief blush was all it took for Misty's heart to flutter. Infected or clean, Ash was still Ash, and that meant the world to Misty.

Of course, the pinkness on the boy's face could not be entirely credited to blush, either. It was difficult for Misty to tell whether or not Ash pursed his lips due to her kiss, or due to his poor attempt at containing his frightened emotions. Maybe it was because of both. Ash tried to dip his head again, just as before, but Misty's own forehead gently caught his this time. Foreheads to foreheads, she could feel each of the boy's timid vibrations and choppy breaths.

"I'm…s-scared…Misty…"

Tear-pricked aquamarine eyes softened alongside another squeeze inside Misty's chest. The girl almost said "me too," but Misty declined. Saying so might intensify Ash's fears, and that was not Misty's job. Besides, it went without saying that Misty, Ash, and everyone else was scared. There was never any reason not to be scared in Acheron City. Though, one could not deny that this very moment was scarier than anything else the kids endured in this city. The thought of losing each other…

…The red-haired girl refused to think that way. "I'm here, Ash. I'll take care of you," Misty promised again. Her words probably struck another blow to Ash's damn pride, but for once, Misty did not notice any signs of discomfort from the boy. Truly, she liked that. It filled Misty with utmost confidence in knowing Ash trusted her with his very life, and that he was not going to badger himself for relying on her, either. The virus was obviously changing Ash, but Misty also knew not all of Ash's changes were necessarily bad. Frankly, she did not believe this current "change" in Ash had anything to do with his infection. Misty felt proud of him.

"Wait for me in here," she whispered into Ash's nearest ear, before pulling herself away from him once and for all. Honestly, Misty did not like the idea of leaving the boy alone and unarmed, despite her little "safe zone" for Ash. However, Nina's revolver only carried one bullet, and Misty was not about to leave it in Ash's possession. Minutes ago, the hopeless boy told Misty to kill him, after all. Misty trusted Ash, but because of the virus warping his already sensitive mental state, the redhead knew leaving a gun in Ash's hands was definitely not a wise choice. Besides, Bayleaf was nearby to watch over Ash's closet, and Misty left the rest of her and Brock's Pokeballs in Ash's closet, too. Ash would be safe. "I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. Hold on, Ash."

Easier said than done, of course, but Ash obediently nodded. Now was probably the ideal chance to sneak a cliché "last glance" at Misty, but Ash sure as hell did not want to think cynically anymore. Negativity was not a part of who he was, but…now that he was infected…who exactly was Ash? Would it even matter once he fully succumbed to the infection?

Yes…it would matter to Misty, and if it mattered to Misty, it mattered to Ash.

He would fight this.

…At least, Ash would fight as long as humanly possible, before the inhuman virus contaminating his veins claimed their prize. If the virus wanted him, let it try to consume Ash. Let the infection fight him until Hell froze over, but Ash Ketchum was not going to go down without a fight.

Misty would be proud.

And Misty was proud…very proud. Closing the closet door, she said a silent prayer to any available Pokemon gods willing to look after her precious little object of affection. Misty, too, did not want to waste time pondering potential "last glances" and "last moments" together. Frankly, if this was the end, Misty just wanted to remember Ash as the brave young man she always knew he was deep down. Visual images were lackluster compared to the emotions that welled in Misty's heart.

She would fight this.

She would do it for Ash.

Flap! Flap! Flap!

Snapped out of her train of thought, Misty finally tore her glassy eyes away from Ash's closet. Greeted by the swooping Noctowl, the redhead was instantly brought back to the reality at hand. "Noctowl, what is it?" she asked, noticing the bird was motioning with full plumage, directing Misty's attention to the nearby stairwell leading to the upper floors the owl recently scrutinized. Remembering her mission, the girl's heart swelled with hope, while also trying not to get her hopes up too high, either. Noctowl's news was not guaranteed to be 'good' news, of course. "Did…did you find anything?"

To the joy of Misty's fluttered heart, Noctowl nodded with an energetic "Bbrhhooooh!" before promptly cuing the girl to follow upstairs. Granted, Noctowl never said it found the vaccine, but the bird obviously found 'something' that would most likely assist Misty, and hopefully help Ash, too.

The redhead said another quick prayer. After one final glance at Ash's closet, Misty took a deep breath and ran as fast as she could behind the hovering Noctowl. Misty would not only fight the rest of her way through this night, she would save Ash.

Wait for me, Ash.

As if he could hear her thoughts, the boy enveloped in the closet's darkness nodded once. Honestly, Ash did not feel safe being shut behind the door of a flimsy and stinky closet, but he was in no position to complain. Not having the luxury to do anything more constructive, Ash wrapped his arms around his numb knees…numb…that could not be a good sign, could it? Ash did not want to read too deeply into whatever was happening to his body. Times like these, Ash really wished he had Pikachu to hold. He needed to feel the mouse's silky fur, hear Pikachu's sweet voice, and…dammit, thinking about that poor mouse was going to make Ash lose whatever fraction of composure he had left!

So he did the next best thing, noticing Misty's backpack had been left at his feet. He was surprised Misty never took it with her, but after grabbing it, Ash noticed the bag's strap was cut. When did that happen? Ash wondered again, before coming to the assumption that quite a bit must have transpired during his blackout in the chemical plant. He still had yet to even know whatever happened to Jessie, James, Meowth, and Nina, but perhaps Ash was better off not knowing. Right now, the only thoughts that kept him sane were those relevant to the obvious.

Misty.

Her red backpack was stained crimson-brown. It stank of drying blood. But somehow, the bag still carried faint traces of warmth and scents of the girl who was fighting to save Ash's life. With nothing left to do but have faith in Misty, Ash wrapped his arms around her backpack, holding it to his chest as he would with his late Pikachu. Between Misty's lingering fragrance on her backpack, and her lingering warmth on Ash's lips…

…Ash knew he was blushing. Frankly, such was the best evidence proving the stability of his humanity. The feelings in his chest were the last shreds of hope Ash had as his very existence slowly neared the gates of Hell.


"Well, well, I'll be damned. Look who's here."

"Psh! We should've expected you three stooges would be here."

Jessie, James, and Meowth simply could not believe it. Mere minutes ago, the ex-Rockets thought they had endured more than an unhealthy share of surprises and revelations in Acheron City. They witnessed and fought undead humans and Pokemon, and narrowly escaped the clutches of the bioengineered abomination that was Tentagator. Plus, they met people who happened to dabble into both the "good" and the "bad" sides of this city's dilemma. On top of all that, they even learned more than a confusing plethora of information regarding Team Rocket's Khimaira-Jects, without still fully understanding the entire situation. Surely, this night could not possibly get anymore overwhelming, could it?

Yet, lo and behold, it seemed Jessie, James, and Meowth were not going to be able to simply "walk out" of Acheron City's gates. Of course not! Jessie snorted sarcastically to herself, before glaring sapphire eyes into the menacing amethysts behind the biohazard suit-clad woman standing in her way. And of all people who had to be Jessie and James' next hindrances, the enemies had to be Cassidy and Butch! 'Walking away' from a situation is too Goddamn easy, and we can't have that, can we?

Frankly, Jessie immediately considered Butch and Cassidy's fashionably late cameo to be grating. After dealing with Tentagator, Nina, Tauris, and legions of undead of all shapes and sizes, Jessie did not have time or patience to deal with her rivals. She did not even need Butch and Cassidy to remove their face masks for Jessie to know those arrogant jerks were probably reveling at the opportunity to battle or mock Jessie and James. Time was of the essence, and Jessie had enough of this city's asininity.

"Long time no see, Jessie dear," the catty Cassidy purred, placing her gloved hands on her hips in an overly haughty manner. The blonde was obviously looking for a fight, or catfight, and Jessie was not going to humor her tonight. "What brings you to this 'lovely' city?"

The blonde woman's arrogant nosiness chipped away whatever little tolerance Jessie had left. Now was most certainly not the time for this nonsense, so Jessie cut to the chase. Running a hand through her unruly red locks, Jessie scoffed viciously. "Listen bitch, we don't have time to deal with the likes of you!"

Unexpectedly, Cassidy's rifle-toting partner furiously piped up "The name's 'Butch,' not 'Bitch'!"

If this moment had not been so hectic, Jessie and her cohorts would have comically fallen to the ground. Instead, James did the next best thing, sweatdropping and grinning mischievously. "Uh…actually, I think Jessie was talking to your blonde bombshell of a partner, Botch."

If Wobbuffet were still active, the blue blob would have popped out and chimed "Woooobbuffet!" Instead, the Togepi in James' arms did the honors and trilled a "Togi togi piiiirrrriiiii!" for similar effect, earning a snicker from the proud uncle Meowth.

Maroon eyes blinking behind his mask, the equally sweatdropping Butch then exchanged an impish glance with his annoyed partner. "Oh…" before realizing, "…Er, wait, it's still Butch, dammit!"

"'Sticks and stones,' Jessie," shrugged Cassidy, obviously unfazed by both of Jessie and James' "bitch" and "blonde bombshell" remarks. Jessie and James were lesser agents compared to Cassidy and Butch. There was no need for the purple-eyed woman to humor, or even acknowledge, whatever her subordinates babbled.

Nevertheless, Cassidy still noticed that 12-guage shotgun in her rival's hand. Granted, Jessie was not pointing the weapon at anyone. The gun just hung by the redhead's side in a very useless, unprofessional manner. Cassidy never liked to admit Jessie's strong points, but the red-haired Rocket had once been one of Team Rocket's finer markswomen. In their rookie days, Jessie's aim was even better than Cassidy's, before the blonde superseded Jessie's ranks. Even so, Cassidy was well aware that Jessie knew how to handle a gun, which was why Cassidy drew her pistol and trained it between Jessie's sapphire eyes. "Drop it!"

Jessie was also unfazed by her rival's order. She knew her shotgun was empty, but Cassidy and Butch did not know that. The redhead was tempted by the idea of 'pretending' the weapon was loaded, more or less to piss off Cassidy and Butch. However, Jessie and her crew had better things to amuse their concentration. Besides, her 12-guage was empty, useless, and Jessie did not have the means or time to reload. She doubted her illustrious rivals would offer any shells, either. So, for once, Jessie did as Cassidy said, tossing the clanking shotgun to the ground.

"Good girl," Cassidy sneered, speaking as though she were talking to her faithful pet. The blonde was obviously pleasuring herself with the knowledge that Jessie actually listened to her for once. The very idea of bowing to Cassidy was more nauseating to Jessie's churned insides than Acheron's grotesque undead. Since James looked unarmed, Cassidy saw no fault in lowering her weapon. She really never considered buffoons like Jessie and James to be 'threats,' anyway. Jessie was defenseless, and James was only carrying two Pokemon in his arms. One Pokemon was that weird talking Meowth, and the other was…a Togepi?

That egg was nostalgic. Cassidy knew Jessie and James were too brainless to catch a rare Togepi. No, this Togepi is familiar. Where had Cassidy seen that baby before?

Not that it mattered, of course. "So, stealing five-cent Pokemon again, I see…" Cassidy snorted, flaring Jessie's noticeable temper. Technically, Cassidy knew Togepi were far more valuable than "five-cents." Then again, Cassidy was not about to give Jessie the satisfaction in knowing the redhead had a "rare" Pokemon in her possession. Nevertheless, the blonde had to admit, "…You've picked one helluva city to loot, though."

Cassidy did not technically lie. Of course, Jessie, James, and Meowth were not in Acheron City for petty looting, either…not that Cassidy and Butch needed to know those details, either. Frankly, Nina's "fool the Rocket guards" idea was already weaving before Jessie and James could even catch up. After all, of what Butch and Cassidy knew, Jessie, James, and Meowth were still part of their team. Heavens knew Jessie's crew had bamboozled Cassidy and Butch numerous times in the past, too. The current situation could potentially turn in the "lesser Rockets'" favors, if they played their cards correctly.

"Well, it may be a helluva city to loot…" Jessie played along, sending discreet signals to James and Meowth to follow her lead. "…But you've gotta' admit, there are no annoying cops or civilians to get in our way." Admittedly, that sentence did pull a few of Jessie's heartstrings, for she had seen the truly disgusting underside of Acheron's nightmare, unlike Cassidy and Butch. For people to pilfer in a tragic city like Acheron was downright disrespectful, but the fib needed to be spoken. At least Jessie and her teammates knew their words were indeed lies, and nothing more harmful than crudely empty words.

Understanding Jessie's pain, but knowing he had to keep up the act, James nodded before motioning with the arm cradling Togepi. James had no intentions of handing Togepi over to the likes of Cassidy and Butch. Besides, even if James wanted to give Togepi away, the protective Meowth would most certainly not allow it, at least without the cat accompanying the baby. However, if James and Jessie were going to successfully fool their rivals, they had to make the bluff convincing. "Yeah! It's a free-for-all in there! Free Pokemon for the picking!"

Butch cocked his head suspiciously. "Does the boss know about this?"

"'Does he know about it'?" James laughed incredulously, with Jessie and Meowth following suit. "Hell, the boss sent us into the city to collect surviving Pokemon! Didn't he tell you about it, too, Botch?"

Before Cassidy's partner could go off on another name-game rant, the blonde folded her arms over her chest in a huff. To her and Butch's knowledge, they had no idea Jessie, James, and Meowth were even told about the Acheron affairs. Acheron and its related Khimaira projects were highly classified Team Rocket subjects. Only Rocket affiliates of the highest statures were told about Khimaira. Considering Jessie, James, and Meowth's poor track records in recent years, Cassidy did not think these three idiots were qualified to know about Acheron City. Admittedly, Cassidy was surprised.

Then again… "Well, Giovanni did say he sent an agent in there to retrieve samples," Cassidy recalled, obviously giving Jessie and James' words some consideration. If the boss sent agent Wincent into Acheron City to find virus samples, it was conceivable that Giovanni sent in other agents to collect salvageable Pokemon, too. The blonde was just surprised that Giovanni did not give such a task to more qualified and commendable agents such as her and Butch.

"But…" Cassidy suddenly smirked behind her mask, narrowing dagger-like amethysts at her ruby-haired rival. "…The boss also said he was only willing to send expendable agents into the city."

Honestly, Jessie and James were not expecting that low comment. Of course, Cassidy's words were obviously the truth, though Jessie always assumed Giovanni dubbed all of his agents 'expendable.' After what happened tonight in Acheron City, it was pretty damn obvious that Giovanni considered everybody, from his own allies to innocent civilians, was expendable for his selfish whims. Sick bastard.

Jessie also knew that for all of Cassidy and Butch's bravado, they were just as expendable as any other Rocket agent. "At any rate, what brings you two here?" Jessie inquired in a sarcastic tone to mockingly mimic her blonde counterpart. "This place is too grimy of a city for you to dirty your nails, at least without a damn good incentive, Cass."

A flicker of resentment obviously welled inside the blonde, and Jessie knew that, too. "Cass" was from their rookie days, when the Rocket girls could sit in the same room and actually get along, instead of biting each other's heads off. Nowadays, Cassidy only deemed Butch worthy of calling her Cass. Anyone else who used the nickname was stepping over very sensitive territory with the aforementioned blonde bombshell. The advantages of Jessie and Cassidy's lost friendship was that both women knew exactly what buttons to press, which strings to tug, and what words to say to make the other's blood boil.

"Not that it's any of your business…" grumbled Cassidy, regaining her arrogant façade lest she give Jessie the unwanted upper hand. "…But the boss has promised Butch and I some impressive compensation for 'dirtying our nails' tonight." Not that Cassidy and Butch actually got their hands dirty this evening. Aside being covered from head-to-foot in protective suits, Cassidy and Butch did not do very much aside barking orders to the other Rockets assisting in the lockdown. Conversely, Jessie and her crew were covered in maroon grime, which made Cassidy's skin crawl underneath her suit. The lesser Rockets appeared as though they just emerged from the bloody bowels of the underworld. Cassidy had no concept of the truths behind her allusion, either.

"Speaking of 'dirty'…" Butch's raspy voice included, also noticing the stomach-churning sights that were Jessie, James, and Meowth. "…The boss has ordered us to capture and quarantine any survivors. I suppose that includes you three." Butch and Cassidy had no way of knowing if Giovanni did indeed send the idiot trio into Acheron, and the dark Rockets knew better than to question Giovanni's orders. "If you've collected whatever it was Giovanni ordered you to collect, then get your asses into those trucks over there and wait," he ordered, pointing to where several military-style cargo trucks were parked outside the gates. "Once the city is locked down, we'll take you back to base and the medics can deal with you and your Pokemon."

Well, at least Jessie, James, and Meowth finally found a way to escape, and leave, Acheron City. Those boxy cargo trucks were utilitarian and unattractive, but at the moment, they looked as beautiful as Cinderella's whimsical carriages! However, it was a little too soon for any "happily ever after" to end this misadventure once and for all. Jessie and her partners knew they still had one other task to undertake before putting Acheron City behind them.

"Fair enough, " Jessie acknowledged, though not giving Cassidy and Butch the chance to reply before the redhead added her own ultimatum. After dealing with Tauris and Nina's shenanigans tonight, Jessie was learning a wide variety of sneaky survival methods. "But we're not quite finished with this city, either," she added matter-of-factly, much to Butch and Cassidy's apparent surprise. Frankly, Jessie enjoyed the rare sights of seeing her self-proclaimed "betters" appear confused.

James victoriously enjoyed the sights, too. It was not often that he and Jessie gained the upper hand against Butch and Cassidy, so the violet-haired man savored the moment like the sweetest candy. "You see, we also happened to run into these kids…you may remember them, actually…" he added, knowing Cassidy and Butch would recognize Ash and Misty on the spot once the ex-twerps reached the gates. James and Jessie knew they were going to have to come up with a valid excuse, one that would not appear as though Jessie and James were siding with the twerps again. After all, most of the times Jessie and James defied Cassidy and Butch, it was usually with the kids' help. If Jessie and James were going to get Ash and Misty out of this city, they were going to need a damn good reason for Butch and Cassidy to let the kids pass.

One thing James learned from Nina and Tauris' escapades was that cruel lies could sometimes be the only ways to survive. Besides, Misty did tell Jessie and James to make up any necessary excuses to get the kids out of Acheron. By no means did that imply that the lies James was about to speak never tugged his heartstrings. He did care about those kids, after all. Biting back unwanted emotions, James upheld his crude act as perfectly as possible in his rivals' presences. "…They're those brats who interfered with our plans in the past. The nosy kids tried to prevent us from taking the Pokemon Giovanni ordered us to collect. You know how much those twits enjoy messing up our plans."

Truly, this was a painful conversation for James, but how else was he to convince Cassidy and Butch to let Ash and Misty out of the city? "But the kids got reckless, and some of their friends and Pokemon got killed by Acheron's zombies. Now they're just scared little brats who want to get the hell out of here. They agreed to give us their Pokemon in exchange for us getting them out of this city. Of course, we don't get the Pokemon until we get the kids out of the city first. Fair deal if you ask me."

Cassidy was not overly convinced. If these "kids" James spoke of happened to be that brat boy with the Pikachu, Cassidy highly doubted the child was willing to part with his precious electric rat. But then again, as James said, the boy was still a kid. When it came down to survival of the fittest, children could never handle hellish circumstances such as Acheron City. She really would not be surprised if the boy gave up his Pokemon just to save his own ass, because Cassidy knew she would have done the same thing. Plus, Cassidy now recognized the Togepi in James' arms: it belonged to that loud-mouthed red-haired girl who tagged along with the Pikachu trainer. Apparently, the kids had already given Jessie and James one of their Pokemon, probably like a "down payment." James' words were not overly outlandish.

As for Butch, he could have cared less about the brats. "Why didn't you just take the kids' Pokemon and run? The hell with giving them options and making bargains."

"True," Jessie noted slyly with a raised index finger. "But you know how Pokemon tend to be; sticking by their trainers, and all that sentimental bullshit. And you've seen that brat's Pikachu before. His electric powerhouse is practically his conjoined twin! You can't expect the yellow rat to simply go with us knowing its 'dear master' wasn't safe. And I'm sure you know how much Giovanni wants that twerp's Pikachu, so we can't afford to screw around and ruin this golden opportunity. We can deal with the kids later, as long as we get Pikachu."

Granted, Pikachu was no longer alive, but Cassidy and Butch did not have to know that. Ash and the others could always claim Pikachu was in its Pokeball. Chances were, Butch and Cassidy would never know the difference until after everybody returned to headquarters, which by then would be too late. As long as Ash and Misty got out of Acheron City, Jessie and James could, and would, handle the rest. The top priority was doing whatever it took to get the kids out of this city alive.

"Whatever…" Cassidy shrugged, before glancing around for the said twerps. She did not have time to play any more games with Jessie. "…But where are the kids, anyway? Don't tell me you got them killed and lost the Pikachu or something."

Her "lost the Pikachu" line did sting the ex-Rockets' hearts, listening to Cassidy so passively allude to the brave Pikachu's death. Jessie would have loved nothing better than to slap her pretty rival, but now was not the time. "The idiot twerps got hurt and we're gonna' need assistance getting them out of this city. They're at Acheron Memorial right now…if you would be so kind, dear Cassidy," Jessie smirked, immensely enjoying the idea of making Cassidy her puppet. "Once we get the brats out of this city, their Pokemon are ours for the taking. I'm even in a generous enough of a mood to cut you a piece of the profit if you assist."

Cassidy was not stupid. This was not the first time Jessie and James claimed they wanted to "work together" with her and Butch, only to two-time them in the end. However, the power-hungry blonde also lusted over the idea of making an even greater profit from tonight than originally planned. Money was the only reason she and Butch were even in Acheron at this ungodly hour, so they might as well make their efforts worthwhile. Besides, Cassidy could always shoot the twerps, or the rivals, if any of them pulled anything funny. Unlike her softie rival, Cassidy's heart was much harder than Jessie's.

Of course, Cassidy had other intentions, too. Cassidy knew all about Acheron Memorial, and she knew 'who' used to work there religiously. Anybody familiar with the Khimaira Project knew about the infamous Dr. Vincenzio. Rumors flew across headquarters that Acheron Memorial Hospital was the mad scientist's favorite haunt. Giovanni did say there was a chance Vincenzio could still be alive, and if he were alive, that meant Vincenzio would "go down with his ship," or down with his viruses.

If crazy Vincenzio were still alive, he would probably be at the hospital.

Also, if Vincenzio were still alive, there was a chance he may be guarding his precious virus samples.

If Cassidy and Butch went to Acheron Memorial…and found Vincenzio…and also found his samples

Hell, it was no mystery that the Khimaira-Jects were priceless.

She would have to let Butch know about her scheme as they went. Until then, the grinning blonde decided a quick defiance from Giovanni's orders would be worthwhile. Once Giovanni got his samples, regardless of the methods used to obtain them, he would be a happy camper. Thereafter, the rewards he would bestow upon Butch and Cassidy would make them very, very happy campers, too. She could care less about the kids and Pokemon Jessie and James were attempting to smuggle out of the city. Yet, Jessie's offer was a perfect excuse for Cassidy and Butch to potentially find the samples, or at least find Vincenzio. Either way, the profits would be more than superfluous.

"Alright…" Cassidy agreed with a nod, understanding Butch's surprised gestures. "I'm in a pretty generous mood, too, so let's get this over with before the lockdown." Of course, Cassidy knew better than to trust her red-haired rival. Pointing a finger at the Pokemon in James' arms, the blonde added "But you're leaving those two Pokemon here!" Cassidy had a feeling Jessie and James would be less apt to pull any funny business if their dear Meowth and the rare Togepi were in Team Rocket custody. Signaling for another nameless and faceless Rocket subordinate, Cassidy motioned for Meowth and Togepi to be taken to the medic trucks. "Consider it an 'insurance policy,' Jess."

"Jess" was just as crude as "Cass," but Jessie overrode the pain and nodded in agreement. She did not care to salvage her old friendship with Cassidy. All Jessie wanted to do was salvage whatever remained of Ash and Misty back at the Acheron Memorial Hospital. And as long as Meowth was watching over Togepi, the red-haired woman was certain the cat and egg would be safe. The confident "don't yous worry" looks Meowth shot Jessie and James were all the proof they needed to give into Cassidy's demand.

"Fine," Jessie grunted, siding with James once he was relieved of Meowth and Togepi. "Follow us."

Not understanding much of the situation, Butch obediently followed his partner, clutching his rifle and grumbling cusses under his breath. "Why not just shoot the fuckin' brats?"

James heard that uncalled-for comment, and he actually felt his blood boil reminiscently of Jessie. It was hard for James not to acknowledge Butch's words without wanting to bloody the bastard's nose. Ash and Misty were far better people than Butch and Cassidy could ever hope to become. Hell, James dubbed the kids better people than Jessie and himself. The children James once callously titled "twerps" were truly admirable people, and Ash and Misty certainly deserved greater respect than Butch offered. Alas, now was a bad time for speeches and fistfights, so James did the next best alternative for relinquishing his resentment.

"Oh, now there's a 'smart' idea: we shoot the kids, then we'll get killed by their vengeful Pokemon!" The violet-haired man snorted in disgust, very much like his fiery partner. Perhaps Jessie's personality was rubbing off on James after all. Not bothering to let his rival reply, James just rolled his eyes and continued following Jessie and Cassidy, shooting occasional daggers at his teal-haired counterpart. "Brilliant idea, Bitch."


The sounds of crunching tiles and gravel echoed upstairs as Misty quickly traversed the dark hospital third floor, following Noctowl's lead. Everything was a shambles. Vines attempted to trip the girl, and dust and dirt particles hung heavily in the air and provoked Misty to stifle sneezes. As best as possible, Misty did not want to sneeze and gain unwanted attention. True, there was no evidence of there being any other life forms in this hospital, aside her, Ash, and their Pokemon. But after everything that happened tonight, and especially now that the stakes were at their highest, Misty could not afford to take chances.

Tiles were not the only things that crunched under Misty's filthy sneakers. The further upstairs Misty went, more papers seemed to clutter her surroundings. Acheron Memorial looked ransacked, similarly to the chemical plant. How strange… With the chemical plant, it was obvious the facility had been shut down in a rushed manner, probably after Team Rocket's unexpected virus spill. However, if what Nina said was true, then Acheron Memorial had been abandoned long before this city's viral outbreak. The small hospital had been closed, boarded up, and left to rot like the rest of Acheron.

Was the hospital shut down as hurriedly as the chemical plant? Did something happen here? There was no way Misty could have known, but she was not entirely convinced the hospital had been ransacked years ago. The illegible data papers strewn everywhere appeared old and yellowed, but the papers were certainly not old enough to have decomposed by the tests of time. Somebody ransacked this place, and probably recently.

Misty's first guess was obvious. Tauris…

"The hospital's our last stop before leaving this hellhole."

…But…Tauris said he and Nina had yet to visit the hospital. Of course, that could have been another one of the brunette man's lies, but Tauris would've been pretty stupid to search this place beforehand, only to return to it later. That's a little roundabout, especially with the lockdown approaching. Tauris was not Misty's favorite person in the world, but she was willing to accept that Tauris was a smart man. The same respect applied to Nina, meaning Tauris and Nina didn't ransack this hospital.

But then…who DID?

Furthermore…

…Who gives a shit?

Misty's top priority was finding Ash's vaccine. She no longer cared what happened in this city. The only detective work Misty wanted to do was search and discover the G-Ject.

Poor visibility was what hindered her the most, though Noctowl's Foresight was the godsend. Of course, the owl's red glow only illuminated a small amount of space, and the vibrant crimson also strained Misty's tired eyes. One might assume that after tonight's bloodbath Misty would have been unfazed by the red color. Her body also screamed for respite, running on low sleep and lower nourishment. But none of that mattered anymore, and none of it stopped her.

Ash needs me to find that vaccine. I can do this! I HAVE to do this! I WILL do this!

"Bbrhhooh!"

The chirping Noctowl turned a corner, cuing Misty to follow down the final corridor of the third floor. Dead ahead was a single office door, presumably for staff members, not for medical treatment purposes. With no other doors in the near vicinity, it was obvious to Misty that Noctowl's unspoken discovery was in that final office. The vaccine? She could only hope.

Instinctively, Misty charged the door, bursting it open on its rusty, creaky hinges. She had expected the door to resist her, but as with everything in this rotten hospital, the door was too old to put up a fight. Swinging on its hinges, the door banged against an adjacent wall, stirring dirt particles from the door and wall to rain onto the grimy floor. Catching balance from her charged momentum, Misty swallowed a gulp of musty air before finally taking notice of the office she barged into.

The first thing Misty found was a corpse.

A second-long shriek squeaked past her lips before Misty's hand flew to cover her mouth. Wide blue-green eyes widened in dread as her heartbeat quickened like a war drum. Yes, Misty had seen plenty of corpses in Acheron City. But no matter what, this crazy city always seemed to have at least one more surprise in store for the little girl.

Right in front of Misty was an office desk, keenly similar to the one seen in Chief Ulisse's office, minus the chief and his weapon collection. Instead, what occupied this wooden desk was a body. The carcass was dead, of course, but unlike most of the other bodies fouling Acheron, this corpse never moved. Perhaps that was a "good" thing.

Then again, there was no way the corpse could have moved. The body had been pinned to the desk…literally.

The disturbing image before Misty's unbelieving eyes burned into her memory, overwriting her previous zombie encounters and dubbing this current corpse the "worst" she had ever seen. For starters, the body was severely decayed, far worse than all the other zombies sauntering across town.

Outside tonight's adventure, Misty was not familiar with the specifications of the decomposition process. Still, based on her experiences with tonight's zombies, Misty could tell this body currently sprawled before her eyes had been rotting for much longer than just a day. Flies, maggots, and a variety of other parasites already had their fill of this pinned corpse, leaving behind bare scraps of flesh that were just enough to hold together the skeleton's frame. Frail bones had been blackened, while some already decayed into dust. The body was hairless, almost skinless, and utterly exposed. Whether or not the person's clothes had been moth-eaten, or if the person was naked during this "procedure," was unknown. The carcass was nude, but so much skin and all organs had corroded, thus making it impossible for Misty to identify the skeleton's gender. She assumed male and female skeletons had their differences, but there was no way for an innocent child like Misty to know those variations. Her best assumption was this person was an adult, since the frame was almost as long as the six-foot desk.

What was even stranger was how the corpse was pinned, or perhaps nailed, to the oak desk with foot-long needles. Misty was not an acupuncturist, but she highly doubted this corpse had undergone standard acupuncture. For one thing, acupuncturists do not drill needles into eye sockets! Some nails drilled into veins and major arteries, too. This "procedure," for lack of a better word, better resembled an archaic "ritual" for macabre sacrifices. Plus, upon slightly closer examination, some of those "needles" had been drilled into bone, currently propping the corpse like a dissected science experiment. Those sure as hell were not surgical or sewing needles!

Indeed, this fly-infested carcass was a dissected science experiment.

It was starting to become clear, and unclear, to Misty why Acheron Memorial Hospital was closed. Fighting the horrid chills running laps up and down her spine, Misty swallowed acidic buildup from the back of her throat. Somehow, she had managed not to vomit during her trip through Acheron City, but…the trip was not technically over yet. There was still time for her to spill her guts, though Misty knew such would only waste time. No matter what, she had to stay focused and find the vaccine. At least if this corpse was nailed to the desk, the likelihood of it rising to its feet and attacking her was nil. Hell, Misty had a feeling the moment this old skeleton moved it would immediately dilapidate into dust.

Christ...what the hell were they doing in here? Then again, if Team Rocket stored their samples in the hospital, they most likely had shady dealings in the damn hospital. After what she saw in the chemical plant, Misty knew she should not be so surprised. This is downright cruel, inhumane…it's friggen psychotic! Misty was smart enough to know that this corpse was never part of any 'normal' procedures. The person had not even been experimented over a normal hospital examination bed! What kinda' half-assed scientist experiments on subjects over his own office desk?

Misty was about to find out…much sooner than she could have ever been prepared.

"Well…well…well…what do we have here?"

Another surprised squeak echoed from Misty's mouth as the redhead spun around towards the direction of the unexpected voice. Noctowl had perched itself on a fallen coat rack, digging talons into the wood rod whilst glaring red eyes at a shadow lurking in a corner. How damn cliché; the bad guys and big bad monsters always seemed to hide in shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack their feeble, unsuspecting prey. Misty would have mockingly laughed at this stalker…

…Had he not started laughing before her.

"Heheheh, now…what brings a pretty little girl like you…into a nasty little place like as this? Hmm…?"

His laugher better resembled the cackling of an old bird. Noctowl was not amused in the least, assuming a defensive stance in the event this strange man made any sudden moves. As for Misty, she locked her eyes on the silhouette, carefully moving to catch a beam of streetlight peeking through cracked windows. If she approached from the correct angle, the silver of light would be perfect enough to expose the man's face. Misty was not about to sic Noctowl's powers on the man just yet, especially since there was no reason to dub him a threat…at the moment.

"Who are you?" asked the redhead, watching the ray of light begin to traverse the man's clothes. He was as filthy as Misty, sporting brown and red bloodstains along his gray pants, shoes, shirt, and once-white lab coat. "You're a doctor?"

Misty did not think she asked a silly humorous question, yet the man snickered all over again. "Heh…once," the man corrected as the light rose closer to his face. "I suppose I still am a 'doctor'…if that's what is expected of me. But it really doesn't matter…anymore. Nothing does…"

What is he talking about? Misty's eyes narrowed in suspicion as the light reached the man's white beard. Based on his craggily voice, Misty estimated that this man was probably around Professor Oak's age, probably older. Yet, Misty could not dub the mystery man's voice as "weak," either. He seemed to speak heavily, but with a bit too much certainty. Yet, Misty had no clue 'what' he was bantering about.

"Did you know, child…?" the codger suddenly asked, just as Misty caught sight of his nose. "'Acheron' is the name of Hades' river…the river associated with pain and suffering," he educated, causing Misty's eyes to blink once. "…Those Rocket fools did a splendid job…of transforming this city into a river of pain and suffering…don't you agree? Of course…I suppose that means if Acheron City has become Hell…that would make me Hades…yes?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the redhead exclaimed incredulously, keeping her right hand hovering over the revolver in her pocket. This unidentified man's presence was genuinely starting to disturb Misty, more so than the sight of the unsettling pincushion-corpse. Frustrated, Misty repeated once more with emphasis, "Who are you?

"Oh…forgive me…" the old man practically slurred, before finally taking one step into the half-light. "…I didn't introduce myself…did I? So sorry…" Visibility was still low, but Misty finally saw all she needed to identify this person: doctor's lab coat uniform, white beard, and receding hairline. One shaky hand of frail, bony fingers rose to his chest in an introductory manner, while a pale weathered smile broadened underneath hazel eyes…

…Misty had seen those eyes before…once…

Click!

In the store's silence, a simple click of a doorknob was as startling as a gunshot. Her heart skipping a beat, Misty skittishly jumped upon noticing a door behind the counter jerk. The door labeled "employees only" cracked open two inches, unveiling four bony fingers clutching the frame. A breath was ensnared in Misty's throat as she saw half a wrinkled face peering through the ajar door; one hazel eye leering at the girl.

Releasing a startled breath, Misty's wide eyes blinked a few times, unsure what to do or say. Much to her relief, there was indeed somebody in this store! Misty knew she saw something that attracted her to this shop! Yet, something still did not seem right. Backing away from the display counter, Misty then took a careful step forward towards the door. "…Hello?"

The door shuddered loudly, causing Misty to freeze in her tracks. The mysterious person's hand gripping the door vibrated, as if in fear of the young girl. "It's okay…" Misty reassured, wearing a nervous yet friendly expression to prove no harm. "…I'm not a thief or anything. I've just been looking to see if anyone's here." In many ways, Misty was relieved to have found someone. "My friends and I just arrived in town, and…"

Déjà vu was indeed a bitch in Acheron City.

"…So…" the hazel-eyed elder sneered darkly, causing Misty to involuntarily shudder for reasons she preferred to never unearth. She just met this man, and already Misty could tell there was something not quite right about him. "…I finally meet the rats that have been scurrying around this fair city. Well…you've come this far…impressive…commendable…I like it."

A voice inside Misty told her this man's 'likes' were probably not 'good' things.

"But…where are my manners tonight…or this morning? Yes…it's nearing dawn, after all…beautiful…but first things first." Then, very politely, a bit too politely, the man bowed respectfully before the confused red-haired girl. This old man better resembled the disturbingly friendly host of a fancy party catered by the Grim Reaper. There was just something indisputably wrong about this guy!

Instincts told Misty to run, but her disobedient feet were unwilling to move. Sweat began to break at her brow, and it took a valiant amount of effort on Misty's behalf to remain focused. Misty had not felt this unnerved since she met wacko Chief Ulisse back at the Acheron Police Department. Surely, this elderly man standing before her could not be any more dangerous than the infected chief, or any other undead abomination Misty ran across in Acheron City.

Right?

"…A pleasure to finally meet you…miss…"


Ash had fallen back asleep inside his closet. It was a short slumber, and for once, it was a peaceful nap, the best rest the poor boy had since he stepped into Acheron. No dreams or nightmares graced Ash with their presence, and the boy was grateful. He did not know which was the dominant instigator of his nap: the boy's fatigue or the boy's infection. It was probably a culmination of the two, seducing him back into unconsciousness. Whatever the case, Ash was content, curling himself around Misty's pillow-like backpack and able to finally close his eyes and sleep.

For a moment, Ash felt as though he was sleeping in his bunk bed, back in Pallet Town. Sweet…sweet…sleep.

Bang!

His sleep did not last long, of course. Ash should have known his respite was too good to be true.

Bang! Bang!

The boy was half-conscious and half-delirious, never mind half-infected. Ash's face scrunched in annoyance as a door's pounding intensified from somewhere outside. Burying his face deeper into Misty's backpack, the boy groaned a sentence garbled by sleepiness and incoherence. "Mmmnn…Maa…fiive…more min'its…" Why did Delia have to wake him up now? Ash did not want to go to school today.

Bang! Bang! BANG!

Delia was going to be angry if Ash overslept and missed the school bus again.

Bang! BANG! BANG!

"Maaaaa…" the groggy boy whined, stuffing his face into his pillow to the point of near-suffocation. Jeez, Monday mornings always came quickly, too quickly. Why were the weekends so short, while the boring schooldays were so long? Ash wanted to stay home today and catch up on the sleep he lost. His body craved more sleep after Ash's not-so-smart idea of staying up late last night watching Pokemon League updates. Why the hell were those updates aired at eleven o'clock at night, anyway? Delia did warn Ash not to stay up late, and apparently, she was not going to allow him to sleep and make up for his late night. Now Ash was going to be a zombie throughout the whole school day. Gary was certain to torment Ash about it, too: "Poor Ashy Boy can't handle staying up past his bedtime, can he? Hahahahaha! You're such a loser!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Frankly, Ash was too sleepy to care anymore. Let Delia break down his bedroom door and scold him for being lazy. Stubborn Ash was not about to get out of bed anytime soon, and that's that!

"Grrraaaaarrrrrrr!"

Then again…

"Grrraaaaaaaaaarrrrrrr!"

Then it finally dawned on Ash that it was most certainly not Delia hammering down the door. Well, at least it was not the door to Ash's closet that was pounded, but another door nearby was getting pummeled…probably the entrance door.

BOOM!

Oh shit.

Brown eyes flashed open for a second, before screwing shut again as Ash's ears heard the unimaginable beast stomp stomp stomp into the hospital. He should have expected Tentagator to follow the escapees' scents to Acheron Memorial. Hell, Ash would not have been surprised if Tentagator had a friggen GPS inside its brain! There was just never a way of escaping this monster!

Stomp…stomp…stomp…

No longer sleeping, Ash's rude awakening drove him into an instant fit of shivers, clutching Misty's backpack for dear life as the floors vibrated underneath Tentagator's heavy feet. The boy's throbbing heart coordinated itself with the monster's steps, deafening to Ash's ears: pound, stomp, pound, stomp, POUND, STOMP, POUND…

The beast was near…probably right outside Ash's door for all he knew. He struggled with his breathing, desperately trying not to hyperventilate and give away his location. Ash had no clue how powerful Tentagator's hearing could be. However, if the beast could bomb through concrete walls, Tentagator probably had genetically advanced hearing, too. Hell, Ash would not have been surprised if Tentagator possessed x-ray vision, capable of seeing through walls and doors and…shit, Ash probably should not be thinking this way, should he?

Pound…pound…pound…

Oh God…oh God…oh God…

Stomp…stomp…stomp…

Oh God oh God oh God oh God!

Ash was undeniably vulnerable. He could not even walk! The chances of him putting up a decent fight against Tentagator were laughable. Any attempts at fighting Tentagator were laughable, but Ash's current condition was the most helpless of all. Ash's body was breaking into a shaky feverish sweat, failing to stay calm. Alas, Ash had to stay calm. Misty would not have left Ash in that closet if it were unsafe. He did not know about the peroxide chemicals, but if Misty dubbed the closet safe, Ash had to trust her. He did trust her.

Pound…stomp…pound…STOMP…POUND…STOMP…STOMP…STOMP…

But no matter how much Ash trusted Misty, he did not feel safe knowing all that stood between him and Tentagator was a flimsy door. The tentacle beast bowled through concrete walls as if they were built with graham crackers, and shredded solid steel as if it were toilet paper. A door made of rotten wood was certainly not going to protect the defenseless boy. Ash would probably not feel safe if the Great Wall of China stood between him and Tentagator!

"Bey!"

Then again, the closet door was not the 'only' thing that stood between Ash and Tentagator.

Bayleaf?

To Ash's stunned amazement, Bayleaf was outside! When did that happen? Jeez, how long was I unconscious? It would figure that when Ash passed out he missed some major developments in tonight's fiasco. Misty probably had something to do with Bayleaf's release, since she claimed her and the "Pokemon" would search the hospital. Ash just never suspected her to use his Pokemon, not that he minded. It made him wonder what other liberties Misty took while Ash was unconscious, prompting the boy to grab both his and Misty's backpacks into his arms, checking whatever Pokemon and supplies remained. There was only one hydrogen peroxide bottle left in Ash's green backpack. Some of his belt's Pokeballs were also empty. Misty's backpack still had Brock's Pokemon, but some of hers were missing, too. How many of our Pokemon are outside?

More specifically, and horrifically, how many of our Pokemon are outside…with TENTAGATOR?

"Bey! Bey!"

Bayleaf remembered the horrid tentacle abomination from the sewers. Vice versa, Tentagator remembered the yellow leaf Pokemon, too. Eyes locked, immediately preparing each other for a confrontation. The last time Bayleaf encountered Tentagator, the Grass Type was too petrified with cold fear to do anything more constructive than flee back into its Pokeball. But now…

…Now, Tentagator was standing right in front of the closet where Bayleaf's precious trainer was hiding. It no longer mattered how scary Tentagator appeared. It did not matter how much Bayleaf's legs buckled, or how much Bayleaf wanted to run back into its Pokeball, or run back into Ash's arms. Nothing mattered, except protecting Ash. Protecting one's master was a Pokemon's utmost duty, after all.

That was why the yellow and green Pokemon lunged its twin vines at the tentacle monstrosity, slapping the ground like a lion tamer cracking a whip. Eyes narrowed, lips sneered, and the moderately sized Grass Pokemon snarled defensively. Standing ground, Bayleaf was only going to give Tentagator one warning to back the hell off. "Bey!"

Bayleaf's efforts, of course, were mildly amusing to the likes of Tentagator. The stupid Grass Pokemon might as well have offered itself on a platter. The bioweapon's advanced sense of smell detected faint traces of fresh meat in the vicinity of the closet. Strangely, Tentagator could tell there was 'something' in the closet. But as if the enclosure was protected by an odd force field, Tentagator was unable to fully identify the 'something.' A strange, foul odor seemed to protect the closet and hinder Tentagator's sense of smell. How could that be?

Furthermore, Tentagator did not have much time to decipher the mysteries due to this annoying Bayleaf's distraction. So instead, the mutated Pokemon humored the Grass Type, remembering how cowardly Bayleaf fled their sewer encounter. Surely, Bayleaf was nothing for Tentagator to worry about. Either the weaker Pokemon would piss itself and run away crying, or Tentagator would taste Bayleaf's intoxicating blood. Yes, fear…blood…flesh…KILL!

Mirroring Bayleaf's Vine Whip, Tentagator's whip-like tentacle lunged straight for the Grass Type's neck.

Ash could hear the outside world's confrontation. He could not see the fight, and Ash doubted he wanted to see it, either. But…no…I HAVE to help Bayleaf! Ash was not a coward who put his Pokemon in harm's way, especially on his account. The trainer already lost his beloved Pikachu for those reasons, and Ash would be damned to lose the rest of his Pokemon to Tentagator.

But…what the hell did Ash expect himself to do? He was a veritable sitting duck! Ash did not possess the means of battling Tentagator, especially since most of his Pokemon had either passed out or were wandering God-knew-where. Plus the fact, he was stuck in the closet, and definitely did not possess the means to run. Ash figured he would be fortunate enough to stand, never mind run for his life! His legs were…cold…numb…

…Come to think of it, Ash could not feel his legs anymore.

No. No!

Panic was beginning to warp Ash's already infected mind, which was probably not in the boy's favor. He needed to stay focused! Think Ash! THINK! As long as he held onto some sliver of his sanity, Ash could do something to save Bayleaf! The boy was clever enough to finagle a way out of almost every mess he got himself into. Ash just needed to find something that could stop Tentagator…well, maybe not 'stop' Tentagator, but 'distracting' Tentagator was the next best idea. Tentagator was powerful, but the demon proved it was not 'foolproof' back when James used Weezing's Smoke Screen to throw the beast off the escapees' trail. At least Tentagator could be momentarily diverted.

But then, how the hell was Ash going to distract Tentagator, at least without getting himself killed in the process? The boy could not walk, and he could barely think straight. Most of his Pokemon were unavailable, and Ash's only other supplies were empty first aid kits, trash in his messy backpack, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide…

Wait a sec'!

In under a few seconds, Ash consolidated his and Misty's belongings into his backpack, minus one special bottle. Ash may have been infected, but he was still capable of doing what he did best: throwing caution to the wind and performing miracles with brash brilliance.


Blood…flesh…

Ash was not the only living soul who noticed Tentagator and Bayleaf's commotion downstairs. God knew the tentacle beast made enough noise for various distances to overhear. Stampeding down the hospital stairwell as quickly as possible, Corsola and Politoad hurried into the hospital lobby, ready to fight the threat.

"Grrraaaaarrrrrrr!"

Blood…flesh…blood can create…fear for the flesh.

Oh yes, let the naïve toad and coral Pokemon try to fight their tentacle threat. Tentagator would enjoy every minute of their pathetic attempts. Come!

Fear blood…fear flesh.

Flesh…flesh…food…meat…warm…sustenance.

Barrages of shiny silver spikes pinged off the beast's body, barely cutting skin. These spikes were just as futile as the sharp leaves that had sprayed Tentagator. The attacks only managed to cut the monster's rough reptilian skin, but nothing further. Deluges of water did not stop the beast's pursuit, nor did the torrents wash away the spreading blood. One flick…two flicks of its massive tentacle arm were all that was needed to finish the job. It was over before Tentagator's red eyes could even blink. How disappointing these feeble, lesser Pokemon were compared to Tentagator.

Fear…

Tentagator was above all of them: above man, above Pokemon…yes…Be afraid.

Perhaps even above…Khimaira.


Waiting for the commotion to simmer down by a fraction, Ash seized the opportunity to execute his little plan. Carefully like a snake, the boy crawled out of his hiding space. Ash's arms and elbows dragged the lower portion of his body, no longer possessing the capabilities of standing on his own two legs. But at this moment, Ash was not going to roll over and die just yet. The peroxide bottle was in his right hand, ready to be used once Ash got close enough to Tentagator. Perhaps his scheme was suicide, but Ash already knew that hiding in his closet was just as suicidal now that Tentagator arrived.

He could see the back of the beast in the dark lobby. It was difficult to look around, though Ash noticed things appeared fuzzy…urgh, that could not be a good sign, either, could it? Fighting umpteen imaginary clocks, Ash gritted his teeth and continued to pull himself across the wet floor, doing his best to sneak up behind Tentagator. At least the beast was indisposed with something…wet…something very wet…

…W-what?

The boy's poor vision and lowering cognition disabled Ash from noticing how damn wet the floor was around him. Was the floor always this soaked? Something was telling Ash the answer to his disturbing question was "no," and that was why the boy's heart started sinking into his stomach.

The floor was wet…warmsticky… Ash knew what blood felt like, but he could not understand what disturbed him more: the fact that the floor was blood-soaked, or the fact that he could not smell the blood's stench. That infection of his was working its black magic faster and faster. Only then did Ash's own blood run cold.

Squish.

One of the hands Ash used to drag himself, namely his left hand, had stepped in something. Whatever the 'something' was, it was warm, soft, and nasty. This moment was disgustingly similar to the time five-year-old Ash and Gary had been romping around Professor Oak's ranch. Samuel warned the boys to "watch their steps" (literally) while playing in the Ponyta pen. But typical Ash was too energetic to worry, until Gary started snickering over the brown tracks the younger boy's sneakers had been leaving. At the time, naïve Ash found it strange at how much of a kick Gary was getting over 'mud' on his shoes. Ash almost got himself killed for nearly tracking horseshit all over his mother's carpets, too! Eew, that was definitely one of the most embarrassing moments of Ash's youth.

However, this time around, Ash's hand stepped in something. He wanted to throw up over the thought of potentially sticking his hand in warm crap. Whatever the hell he stuck his hand into, it was warm and squishy, but not quite as sticky as excrement. No…this 'squishy something' felt wetter, like elbow macaroni that had been reheated to lukewarm temperatures in a microwave.

Whatever it was, Ash pulled his hand out of the 'squishy something' as quickly as possible, daring his eyes to stare down at the source of his mystery. It was still difficult to see, but Ash saw enough of the cracked skull and exposed membrane to realize the pinkish "macaroni" dripping from his fingers.

To Ash's credit, he only fainted twice tonight, and he held a track record of never puking, no matter how nasty matters became in Acheron City. But…who the hell was keeping track, anyway? Frankly, after discovering the mangled remains of Misty's precious Politoad, nobody was going to begrudge Ash a moment of weakness. The toad's crushed head laid next to him in a mound of pinkish shards, shards that looked like shattered coral. Actually, Ash could not tell which remains belonged to Politoad, and which remains belonged to Corsola. The two Water Types were just piles by now, mounds scattered here and there in random sloppy heaps.

Frankly, it did not matter if Ash had a right to give into weakness. His body reacted before the boy's brain could defy. Unfortunately, since Ash never ate anything substantial all night, the boy's heaves only came out in strained chokes and stifled whimpers. Acid dripped from Ash's trembling lips, but nothing more.

Nevertheless, Ash made enough noise to draw Tentagator's attention away from Bayleaf. 'Distraction' was the very reason why Ash left the closet in the first place, after all. Now Tentagator would not have to fight Bayleaf.

Or, at least, Tentagator would not have to fight…what remained of Bayleaf.

B…B-Bay…

In kindergarten, Ash once painted a "special picture" for Delia for Thanksgiving. The students glued multicolored leaves to their paintings, each kid attempting to make patterns and shapes of turkeys out of their foliage. Ash was never very good with art, so Delia always called his little masterpieces "abstract." Leaves were glued in random places across his picture. Ash also went a little gung-ho with the paint and ended up smearing colors all over the place, even over the leaves. Incidentally, Delia honestly thought the end result looked like a flurry of multicolored leaves blowing in the wind. Of course, she happily rewarded her little artist with a "thank-you" hug and kiss. Years later, Ash found that same picture, and called it a "mess." Delia refused to throw it away though, much like mothers do with simple keepsakes of their children.

B-Bay…leaf…?

The scene sprawled before Ash's eyes was a cruel parody of his little venture down memory lane. A kindergartener must have found some leaves, strewn them all over the hospital lobby, and then went gung-ho with red paint. Torn leaves and blood were smeared everywhere, all leading to the masterpieces' focal point: a mangled sack of yellow flesh, bloodied, dismembered, and decapitated. Ash barely recognized Bayleaf.

Barely.

After effortlessly making mincemeat out of the three wimpy Pokemon, Tentagator finally set its sights on the boy. Yes, Tentagator remembered this child. Vaguely, the beast was impressed at how such a young being eluded Tentagator's wrath so long. Noticing the human's shredded leg also brought back memories. Tentagator tasted Ash's blood, albeit only via a sip back in the sewers. Youth blood was a rare and delectable type, one Tentagator rarely feasted. This blood was Tentagator's candy…it's obsession…it's addiction…it's life.

Granted, Tentagator noticed something was 'odd' about the boy, but never caring, the beast quickly lunged its tentacle arm at Ash. Extending its five finger-like tentacles, the starfish-like arm drew for the kill, ready and eager to wrap around and consume the boy. Delicious.

…Or so Tentagator assumed.

"Gurragh?"

Almost identically to when Togepi worked its magic inside Tentagator's arm, the beast felt something strange swim into its feeding tube. The consumed 'something' was hard, not soft, and it did not taste quite as delectable as Tentagator had hoped. Blinking, the beast clutched its arm, attempting to break down whatever it just ingested.

From the floor, the empty-handed Ash just watched…and grinned maliciously.

When the peroxide bottle finally burst inside Tentagator's arm, that was when the beast howled and Ash got moving again. The disinfecting chemicals must have burned like fire inside Tentagator's arm, sending the beast into a frenzy of smashing everything within range. His plan working like a charm, Ash seized the golden opportunity to make his get-away. There was a small office nearby Ash headed towards, while Tentagator continued its violent and noisy spasm.

Even though Ash had to keep his thoughts focused on survival, a few respectful silver drops had fallen over the grisly pieces of Politoad, Corsola, and especially Bayleaf. He did not have time to cry or grieve any more losses, lest Ash become one of the lost. Everybody who died tonight died for the same reason: to protect those who were precious in their eyes. Now, Ash was being given the same opportunity.

Tentagator would kill Ash, and thereafter, Tentagator would kill everybody else, including Misty.

That was not something Ash could allow.

Managing to crawl into the ransacked side office, Ash first noticed the large wooden desk, large enough to hide behind, at least for defensive purposes. Now that Tentagator was fully aroused and aware of Ash's presence, there was no point in hiding anymore. Before the beast resumed its pursuit, Ash scanned the area for anything useful. He was not strong enough to lift one of the room's foldable chairs and slam it against Tentagator's head, such as wrestlers did on TV. There were no obvious weapons like guns, either. Ash also knew it was suicide to sic anymore of his Pokemon on Tentagator, after what happened to Bayleaf, Politoad, and Corsola. Releasing more Pokemon would be no different than offering Tentagator a silver-platter smorgasbord with a decorative card reading: "KILL MY POKEMON!"

When conventional weapons were unavailable, Ash needed to get creative. To his right was a useless broken computer. To his left was a fire alarm on the nearest wall, accompanied with a wall-mounted fire extinguisher and axe. Ash doubted the alarm would do any good without electricity, but the fire extinguisher and axe were much more promising.

Sometimes, when facing Hell, the mind is indeed capable of bending and twisting in order to survive. Perhaps the virus was to blame for Ash's malice streak, but the boy did not think that was entirely accurate. Yes, the world around him was getting hazier by the minute, harder to see…harder to concentrate…but…

Misty…

Ash would protect Misty. There was no need to humor the minor details.


Whatever in God's name the boy fed into Tentagator's arm, the chemical was powerful enough to numb the beast's senses. The peroxide burned throughout Tentagator's throat, lungs, and everywhere, as if the beast drank a half-gallon of gasoline and then swallowed a lit match. Spitting out the empty peroxide bottle, Tentagator's numbed arm desperately attempted to regurgitate the unwanted chemicals from its system. Alas, the damage had already been done, and now the baffled beast did not know what to do.

…Except kill that Goddamned boy!

Even so…Tentagator could tell something was very odd about the child. This was not the same boy Tentagator saw in the sewers. The little boy was still his same puny size and possessed the same puny abilities. However, Tentagator was a mutant bioweapon, born through the Khimaira-Jects. Those created with the Jects had an affinity for each other…a connection…a bond.

And the strangest part was Tentagator could have sworn it felt that bond resonate from the boy. The aura and scents of the Jects were unmistakable for a creation born through them. More and more, Tentagator could tell that boy's body was warring with the Jects. Without a cure to reverse the infection, that boy would die very soon.

Tentagator did not care about the boy's wellbeing. However, if Tentagator had any intentions of feasting upon the child's delicious DNA, the devil would have to hurry and make the kill before the human became one of Tentagator's own. Once fully consumed by the virus, Ash's tainted blood would no longer have any value. Infectees of the Khimaira-Jects only sought fresh blood and flesh.

Snarling in frustration and vengeance, Tentagator regained itself and stomped towards the office where its obnoxious vermin disappeared.


Reaching the fire extinguisher, Ash painfully propped himself to his knees, biting through the seething pain and attempting to pick up the massive fire extinguisher's tank. The effort in futility failed, of course. The large red tank was either too heavy to hoist, or Ash was too weak to hoist the tank. His weakened arms could not even budge the canister from its wall mount. At best, Ash could only lift the hose's nozzle. "Dammit."

Still, the nozzle was better than nothing.

Formulating Plan B as he went, Ash grabbed the hose and chucked the nozzle into the glass box protecting the emergency axe. The protective glass cracked, but never broke, prompting Ash to try again. His weak legs objected, sending Ash back on his backside before able to free the axe. No…he could not stop yet. If the nozzle would not break the glass, Ash tore off his backpack. After being filled with Misty's and Brock's Pokeballs, the bag was heavy, but enough for Ash to swing the bag like a weapon. Mustering one more round of strength into his knees, the boy propped himself up, swung the heavy backpack, and shattered the collided glass with one shot. Luck was on his side, knocking the axe right out of its confines and onto the floor. Ash's backpack went sailing a few feet away, and the boy once again crashed back onto the floor. Nevertheless, now Ash had a weapon to fight Tentagator.

If only Ash was strong enough to properly lift the damned weapon.

Shit! His strength was draining more rapidly than before, and it was no small wonder to Ash how former infectees like Brock and Jessie degraded so quickly. Ash still had yet to understand why he was more coherent than Brock and Jessie were when they got infected, but now was not the time for twenty questions.

"Grrraaaaarrrrrrr!"

The mammoth barely cleared the office threshold clearance. Swallowing a frightened gulp of oxygen, Ash's hands weakly gripped the axe handle as Tentagator stomped closer…closer…closer. The floor cracked into small fissures underneath Tentagator's weight, marveling Ash at how the floor never gave way. Of course, he was not lucky enough for Tentagator to fall through the floor, much like Ash and friends did during the days Jessie, James, and Meowth dug pitfalls. That would be too easy.

But as his shaky fingers dug into the axe's wooden handle, Ash suddenly realized he was not completely defenseless just yet. He could not use the axe like professional woodcutters could, but the cracked floor could actually work to the boy's advantage. This moment was just like a Pokemon battle, though far deadlier. Nevertheless, Ash's creativity could win its way out of almost any dire situation.

Masterfully, Ash waited for just the right moment when Tentagator's legs were in range. Ash could not lift the axe, but he could slide it across the floor. Using the floor for momentum and mustering strength in his arms, the grunting Ash chucked the axe across the floor. The weapon slid and spun like a one-bladed shuriken…directly into Tentagator's right leg. Pus-like blood sprayed Ash's face the moment the axe embedded itself within the tree trunk-sized ankle, causing the beast to scream out in howling agony. Apparently, axe blades caused more damage than bullets. Chances were, this axe's damage would still be temporary, but just hearing Tentagator scream was a victory in and of itself.

Perhaps this malice seducing Ash was caused by his warping infection. Ash did not know, nor care at this point. Technically, Tentagator was a Pokemon, and Ash respected and adored the creatures. But…he could not respect and adore this fiend, and Ash felt no sympathy for wounding the creature. This tentacle demon killed Ash's Pikachu, after all, along Bayleaf, Politoad, and Corsola. If Ash were not careful, Tentagator would add Misty's name to its death roster, too.

Truthfully, Ash felt victorious for injuring the gigantic monster. A hint of sadistic vengeance flared in the boy's brown eyes as they darted from Tentagator's bleeding right leg to Ash's own bleeding right leg. Poetic justice. Ash unintentionally returned the favor whence it came.

Roaring in fury, Tentagator's head squirmed from one side to another due to the surging pain in its leg. The beast was still feeling the painful side effects of its peroxide consumption, too, burning its insides and sanity with white-hot rage. Now, Tentagator's leg had a thorn in it, and Tentagator was starting to loose its concentration for the sake of blind indignation. Its gauzed head tossed and turned so violently that faint sounds of snapping bandages could be heard over its howls, covering its enraged eyes.

With the beast momentarily blinded, Ash took the opportunity to crawl out the door of the office and return to the lobby. He was sure to keep a close eye on the monster, just in case it suddenly charged or attacked. Tentagator was obviously far from done, but the same applied to Ash. The boy was not about to underestimate this freak like he did in the sewers. After all, Ash lost Pikachu because of his negligence.

Strangely, the more Tentagator roared, the more Ash's lust for massacring that damned freak intensified. He almost liked the idea of making this beast scream.

Tentagator's head still shook as more bandages fell. Its poncho-like cloak had been torn off during the monster's frenzy, stripping the beast and revealing its complete form. Only when Ash snuck a peek over his shoulder did he finally see the unveiled beast that had been terrorizing him and his friends since the early hours of this nightmare.

It was already obvious that Tentagator was a mutant Pokemon, most likely merged from various parts of other Pokemon in a low-rate Frankenstein parody. Dominantly, the fiend was reptilian, but it possessed the muscular chest and arm of a Machoke, or probably Machamp. Bird-like talons lined the muscular arm's fingers. Conversely, its tentacle arm was beyond recognition, obviously specially made for Tentagator's species. But the reptilian elements of Tentagator had been covered over the shall and bandages for the longest time, only now finally being revealed.

Plain as day for a Pokemon trainer's eyes, Ash knew Tentagator had dominantly been a Feraligatr in its previous life, before Team Rocket defiled it. The creature's bumpy skin was purplish-blue, probably once the natural teal color of Feraligatr but turned purplish due to infection. Purple seemed to be the defining color for infectees in Acheron City. Tentagator's cracked skull was exposed, though the dramatic humps and spikes of a typical Feraligatr had clearly been deformed into small bumps. Its huge legs were about the same as a normal Feraligatr, but its powerful tail was missing. And its arms were definitely unnatural, but such was obvious.

But as Tentagator's head was finally freed of its mummified gauze, Ash found himself unable to take his eyes off the unraveled face. Brown eyes widened in utmost horror as the Devil's spawn finally showed its true form. Ash originally thought Tentagator's feeding arm was the most unearthly thing the boy ever saw.

Now, Ash realized the tentacle arm was the "second" most unearthly thing the boy ever laid eyes upon.

The demon's face was a disgusting maroon, its red eyes almost glowing with hellfire wrath. But Tentagator's mouth was unlike anything Ash ever saw, or wanted to see. The jaws were enormous, probably as big as a Feraligatr's natural mouth. However, as seen with many infected Pokemon, the virus melted body parts formed with cartilage, such as noses. Of course, a Feraligatr's snout was made up of more than just cartilage, but it was obvious Rocket scientists warped the beast's elongated jaw. Instead, the mouth had been broken, dislocated, and haphazardly wired back together around Tentagator's lower face. Jagged teeth were exposed and unnaturally overlapped. The only reason Tentagator's mouth could not open like a flip-top lid was because straggly straps of rotten flesh and wires held the massive, compressed jaw in place. It did not appear that Tentagator could properly hunt and feed through that mouth, hence its alternate feeding arm.

…At least, that was what Ash assumed, anyway.

For a moment, Ash's former self shined through a pang of pity, the only time he ever felt sorry for the freak that ate Pikachu. Why? Why the hell would Team Rocket deform a Pokemon like THIS?

"GURRRRAAAAAAAAARRRGGH!"

But the reasons never mattered. Tentagator obviously could care less, so Ash was not going to waste extra time or sympathy. The beast's mouth was still very large, especially when Tentagator opened it and roared its loudest, its voice no longer muffled by gauze. Ash never even had the time nor strength to block his ears. His terrified eyes were perpetually locked onto the monstrosity's enormous gaping jaw, unveiling countless bloody fangs and a tongue that appeared split down the middle.

Little did Ash realize that Tentagator had two means of feeding. The thorn in Tentagator's ankle smarted, but the beast was still capable of moving, even with the annoying axe lodged in its bleeding leg. Judging by the strides the monster was making, and judging by the devil's feral snarls, Ash was about to learn Tentagator's second feeding method.


Misty had heard quite a bit of commotion and noise echo from downstairs. She also heard that oh-so familiar "Grrraaaaarrrrrrr!" that always caused her stomach to flip. Oh dear God…Ash!

Unfortunately, no matter how much her heart hammered inside her chest, and no matter how much Misty desperately wanted to run to Ash's side…the redhead could not move.

"…A pleasure to finally meet you…miss…" the shadowy doctor grimaced, rising from his bow. One hand left his chest…and the other hand pulled out a metallic pistol from his coat, faster than Misty and even Noctowl could react. Not to be rude or stereotypical, but Misty was amazed at how an old man such as this could move swiftly. The gun was glaring into Misty's eyes before the terrified child had the chance to blink!

The codger's own eyes never blinked, either. Instead, the hazels bore into aquamarines, daring Misty to move so the madman could giddily pull the trigger. Who in hell was this person?

"…Welcome child…I am Dr. Nicolas Vincenzio."

TO BE CONTINUED


A/N: "Ash Vs. Tentagator"! Hell yeah, baby! *^.^* Go Sato-Chan, go! GO! (You guys didn't really think I was gonna' let Ash spend the duration of this fic hiding in a closet, did you?). The big bad boss fight continues next week!

Okay, I'm sure readers remember from way back in Ch.3 that I enjoy writing about psychologically disturbed characters (readers of my Xenosaga fics probably better know what I'm talking about, too ^_~). Vincenzio is my last major OC for "Carnage Necropolis," and if you thought Chief Ulisse was nucking futs, just wait until you get a load of Vincenzio. More about him later…

I'm well aware Bayleaf, Corsola, and Politoad had woefully quick deaths, but honestly, is it any surprise that a creature who can bomb through walls made mincemeat out of three smaller Pokemon? Pikachu's one of, if not the strongest Pokemon of Ash n' co, and even the mouse didn't stand a chance. And Togepi and Wobbuffet were just damn lucky (somewhat). Sorry folks: normal Pokemon just don't stand a chance against Tentagator (and technically, neither do humans…but is Aiselne crazy enough to let her Sato-Chan DIE? I'm torturing some of my readers, aren't I? Patience, patience…this story is not quite finished).

And here comes the obligatory, but nevertheless friendly, fair warning from your thoughtful authoress! You've seen the gore in this chapter, and guess what? The next few chapters are going to follow suit, except to gorier levels (but seriously, if you've made it to Ch.12 of this fic, should grisly violence be any surprise by now?). Nevertheless, I think it's only fair on my part to let readers know in advance. Brace yourselves my friends, b/c this fic is winding down to its ending, and it's gonna' get nasty all over again! (*This message is brought to you by the wacko author who chopped off a Gyarados' head, so don't take this warning lightly*). ^_^;; Until then, I hope you see everyone next week!

~* Aiselne wishes everybody a very happy Thanksgiving! *~
(What's Aiselne grateful for? ^_^ Everybody's generous support of this fanfic!)