Last Week... The search for Marc continues as the crestfallen trio escape the cave and advance on the nearest town.All three have agreed that they need to tell Meeko of their dilema, otherwise they would soon find themselvesfacing the same fate as Marc. As they are passing by a seemingly innocent well, they hear a chilling human moan below and cannot stop themselves from going down its rusty ladder. Once down,they trek deeper into the well, only to find that Team Rocket has taken temporary refuge within, andwere holding a bound and beaten Meeko. After coming face to face with gun barrels and Damion, Meeko's pokémon, they manage to escape. But, oneitching question remains:What ever happened to Marc?
Currently Injured: Jade, suffering from gunshot wound on ear. Status is Mild Discomfort.
Author's Note: I realized to keep my reader's attention, I have to shorten my chapters a bit. Hope you don't mind! -' This chapter will be fairly small, since its only showing what Marc has become priar to capture. There might be other passages like this, but they'll be short and connected by oo00oo'sto normal chapters coming from Jade's POV. Oh, and the end is NOT A TYPO. Have fun!
Chapter Fourteen: Waterburn
Who...who am I? The Slave.
What happened? It matters not.
Alright... The Slave fell silent. Nothing else was to be said.
The Slave was in nothing, had become nothing, and had yet to be anything different. He was forever lost in the dark, searching for something bodily to grasp. His mind was forever lost in the dark, an incomplete puzzle never destined to be finished. Everything of him was forever lost to the dark. Well, almost everything.
What was this? Arms, a torso, strong swimmer's legs, glistening its teal reflection of a thousand plates of armored scales. Claws, dripping the tainted blood of long dead victims. Fangs, quivering from an untamed mighty jaw bone. Muscle, stretching firm under simple will alone. This was what the Slave was. A prophet of death doing as his Master commanded.
Who his Master was, the Slave knew not. It was more of a restraining thought, like a dew drop of honey spreading over his brain. If he tried to think of anything else, it would reel him back into its sticky clutches. The feeling was suffocating.
You must obey.
You must obey to your Master's wishes.
He agreed heartedly for the main reason that he could do no else but this. Agree and obey, and maybe the nothingness would flee.
What is your name? The Slave. Even as the Slave replied, he knew it was a lie. He did have a name many, many lifetimes ago...started with an M, he guessed. Agree and obey...
What happened? It matter's not... Yes, it did matter. What happened was the curtain draping over his thoughts, the skeleton key that opened the gate to life of a heartbeat, of a body, and a soul. Agree and obey...
The nothing tired him. The Slave grew restless, eager for a hunt. His power paced in a tense orbit within his body, impatient to unleash it. To bite. To claw. To kill as Master commanded. Agree and obey...
Yes! Agree and obey!
Say it.
"Agree and obey!" He could feel the words bubbling hot from his being, escaping threw his mouth in a guttural bellow. And the darkness fleeted into oblivion.
The Slave relished the feeling of a warm breeze tracing over his scales. The soles of his feet stung from summer's dehydrated grass. Sunlight, actual sunlight seeped beneath his eyelids. The Slave lifted them slowly, squinting under the sun's rays. His eyes lacked their true unique green color. They were a dark steel coloration, related to the thick gray mud a heavy rain brings out from the dry, clammy soil. Strangely beautiful. The Slave knew a great change had taken place, and concluded that it was for the best. That was the same instant Master kicked him clean off his feet.
The Slave hadn't forgotten everything. Pain and agony were feelings he could remember clearly...as a flaming boulder burning cold in his middle chest from an old wound. The anger that used to cloud his mind at such a time like this was but a small stormcloud floating away in the distance.
Grunting from the effort, the totodile hoisted himself up from his back into a sitting position. He looked up weakly. The eyes of Slave and Master locked.
Master had a long mantle of red hair that stopped unevenly at his shoulders. His black coat shined a bright silver in the sunlight bouncing off his zippers. The boot that kicked him matched its jacket partner, but it bared a shiny metal point melded at the tip that didn't seem to catch any light to reflect. When Master spoke, it was brittle, like ice, as if it would shatter and evolve into berating screams when its owner was angered enough.
"You're going to love being my slave... I'll make sure of it."
The Slave promptly decided that he would indeed agree and obey Master...but also hate the boy with a blazing passion. Such hatred could be put aside for later, though. There was killing to be done! Power to be tested! He snarled his mounting athirst at Master with a spark of his former personality, and received another crippling blow to his tender stomach for the forbidden defiance.
The Slave keeled over, gasping, gagging, pressing into a small cut seared about an inch wide across his torso. It was one of the many he would obtain. He had hardly recovered from the second hit when the steel tipped boot attacked again, this time jarring into the scales on his side. The Slave rolled over in the dust many times before halting on his back. A bruise formed at once where the tip struck, throbbing in rythym to his rapid heartbeat. He curled into a defensive ball, tensed for a third strike, and when it didn't come, peeked out from under his arm's arch.
"Make another noise like that and I'll break your jaw to silence you." Master smirked his satisfaction when the heap of a pokémon was as quiet as the grave.
"If I ever see the color in your eyes, I'll cut them out myself." The Slave kept his snout to the ground.
"Think of attacking me and your life is mine." Master didn't sound like he was joking when he said this. The Slave agreed and obeyed, the shackles of terror clipped heavy on his wrists.
Master pulled out one of his pokéballs, enlarging it and carelessly tossing the machine to the ground. It released a weary-eyed cyndaquill, the fresh cuts on his body starting to bleed anew now that he had a body and blood to spill. He lay still on the ground, breathing deeply through a massive wall of pain in his chest. Blue bruises were desguised among his azure skin.
The pitiful creature hardly had the strength to stand on his hind legs and turn to stare at the grass. He saw the water lizard and glared at him under the impression that they had met once before with the ugly rift of an everlasting grudge, even if the Slave took the stranger as another one of his kind who agreed and obeyed. This must have been the fate of one who refused to obey. The Slave almost swallowed loudly, but caught himself, restraining his fear into silence.
Master dipped his head, his boot still. "You learn quicker than this one. Come on...and Blaze, try to keep up." As he turned down the grassy route, passing by the old Slowpoke well for the second time that afternoon, he paused. "That remind me. You still need a name."
The Slave dragged his gaze to the dirt road to keep from looking up at Master in puzzlement. Wasn't his name Slave?
"You'll be called...Waterburn. You understand that?" Master growled, continuing on his way now that that simple task was over and done with.
Waterburn lingered behind, waiting for this other Slave to catch up. He knew it was a risk of doing so without getting away pain free, but he couldn't help sympathizing for this one. When Blaze dragged himself forward next to the totodile, he gave a small cry and collapsed to the ground.
"Adrian should be thanking me!" The pokémon hissed in distress, eyes burning. "This is all your fault."
"Who's Adrian?" Waterburn asked, ignoring the unfair accusation that this creature blamed him for its misfortunes.
Blaze staggered upright and turned his head at Waterburn, hunched over to blot out some of his mid-section pains. "You really don't remember a thing, do you? You're mind is empty, right?" He didn't wait for an answer, his eyes flickering to the shadows of his lost past. "Yeah, I remember that feeling. I was so innocent up to when I first met you."
"We've never..." The new Slave trailed off, inhaling sharp scents that danced along his tongue. They were other pokémon, not native to the common types living around this route, maybe three of them that stuck out. He sniffed the air, sensing the mental fog starting to clear. A small blotch of yellow, a bulky smudge of green, and a nervous orange creature that shared his blood...
Perhaps if Waterburn had been left alone long enough, he would have remembered his original human name, or possibly even the identities of these three he had never laid eyes on before. Perhaps if Master hadn't noticed the absence of his two slaves so soon, the totodile would have run off into the well and reunited with his friends and brother, and they could continue the quest for their bodies as a quad instead of a lonely trio. Perhaps.
Master recalled Blaze a couple yards away from them both, glaring icily at his newcomer that had so very much to learn. "Just be lucky your new." The boy snarled, turning around. Waterburn scuddled after him like a living shadow, eyes fixated on the blades of grass his Master's shadow passed over. When they stopped walking, he looked around him, taking a half step forward in anticipation for this easy kill. Union cave watched the small throng of Mareep as if it was the dark eye of the mountain side.
Waterburn squinted his eyes for a better view of the sheep, not that it did any better for him. Their fleeces were like a swirling yellow mist attached to leg and face skin that matched the color of blue flames. They had low placed ears and a tail curling upward with the classic bumble bee stripe pattern, ending with either a bright red ball for a tail tip or a pale lemon. A sea of beady eyes darted nervously at the human and pokémon intruder.
Master pushed Waterburn forward towards the group. The cold steel prodding into his back scales sent unpleasant tremors of fear through him. "Shepard like a Growlithe, slaughter like an Arcanine. You let any escape and you'll end up like Blaze. "
Obediently, he bent down on fours and barreled after them. At first sight of the threat, one bleated out a warning, and they all scattered in different directions, save for a mother and its youngling. He could smell blood dripping from a hidden wound beneath the smaller's inner coat, and suddenly his own blood was pounding in the veins of his fingertips. The mother, seeing Waterburn, stood ground to protect her young, who was terror stricken into place.
"Touch son and die! Die Swimmer!" The female shrieked, white lines of electricity burying into the ground around her. The burned grass curled in agony, instantly dyed soot black.
The swimmer took no notice of her, digging his front arms into the ground to leap the last yard at the toddler. He pinned the mareep to the ground, harmless flecks of electricity snapping at skin touching the silk fleece. Waterburn tore away at the fleece guarding his neck and sank his fangs into his throat, all of this happening before the distraught mother could do a thing to stop it. He cried out desperate pleas for the stunned mother, but the fatal bite drew far too much sweet, sweet blood... Eventually they died off, with his unsteady heartbeat soon to follow. Waterburn took on a gruesome image of Marc as he lifted his blood smeared muzzle, growling eagerly at his next victim.
It suddenly felt as if someone had creeped up on Waterburn and hit his back with a metal bat. He flew forward at the female's feet, waist down shaking involuntarily in spasms of energized pain. She screeched in sorrowful rage, summoning her own electric attack and jaggedly watched as the bolt zig-zagged its way to the side of his neck. The intruder screamed, propelled to her right, where a lingering member of the herd brought forth its own electric attack, sending him rolling in range of yet another member to electrocute. They quickly formed a ring around Waterburn, perilously continuing their technique until each ran out of power to contribute. At this point the creature was convulsing on the ground, eyes rolling, mouth agape in a scream that could not be released. He clawed at the ground, disturbing clumps of grass they could have used for good food. His heart rate was nearly tripled its normal speed, threatening to burst out of his lungs, chest, and beyond.
"Swimmer's life repays for Lumi's." Stated one, backing out of the circle. "It'll die with just one more good shot near the life pumper."
The remaining of them, exhausted from the brief torture, dispersed and crowded around the dead son. Instead of crying- after all, sheep had no tears to shed- they illuminated the spheres on their tails to gentle soft glows. The field twinkled in the golden radiance. To a witness, such as Master, this beauty was cut short. One by one, the shimmering forms dimmed and blossomed into a bloody red. The human smiled. There was no need to teach Waterburn how to kill.
"Killed my son!" The now motherless sheep wailed at Waterburn as he pounced on her side. Around her, three Mareep lay mortally stricken on the ground, baying their agony in a tongue only her species could decode. The coats they were so proud of before stuck heavy against their skin, soaked in blood. It enraged her at the sight of it.
Like a small explosion igniting inside his mouth, Waterburn was blown on his back, making the mistake of biting away at the conducting coat. She bounded after him with a cold vengence flickering behind expressionless eyes. Once glowering over the writhing body, she reared back, orange bolts of electricity crackling from the red sphere and into Waterburn's chest. He bucked once, twice, and then lay still, despite the residue of the attack still stabbing at his body. The grass around him, as blackened as his singed scales, dissolved in the field's breeze. All was eerily quiet.
None had the heart to grieve for the unlucky three that were a victim to the Swimmer's onslaught while they were still alive. It would be a while before death claimed them, unless some pretator heard their cries and was stalking through the grass at that very moment. The flock couldn't stay long and risk more death.
Worries of an attack in the future were the least of their problems. They turned away from Waterburn's failing body, aside from the mother. She sat leaning over her baby, nudging him, urging Lumi to rise from a sleep he would never wake. It didn't phase her the slightest when she saw her shadow pulse at the mercy of a brilliant white light...
The light died, and a shadow lumbered over and blocked part of her from the sun. She felt claws cut through her throat, death catching up to her before the pain. Mother fell to her knees over child, her own blood mixing with his.
Like an assassin, Waterburn glided after the remaining five, baring all forty-eight of his curved fangs. Energy coursed through him insanely, and he charged at the nearest target. His teeth were a pearly white when they torn at the Mareep. This needed to change.
Master watched this all pleasantly from farther off, clearly satisfied with his new pokémon. He crossed his arms as each Mareep crumbled into a bloody heap before his invincible Waterburn.
Quiet at first, then growing alarmingly loud, screaming sirens turned Master's attention in the well's direction, catching sight of a dark haired boy he knew all too well. It was after his first fight with Waterburn when they met up, and he was nearly caught by the police because of this scum bag. It was also Blaze's second defeat against the claws of another totodile. Seeing his pokémon finish off the final two opponents still able to fight, Master debated whether or not he would demand a rematch. The police cruisers answered his question for him. No, this type of revenge didn't include the authorities...
Master shrugged his shoulders airily and looked back at the field. Trails of blood told him that Waterburn had done as he was told: to herd like a Growlithe, and let none escape. However, the other command lay unchecked. He hadn't slaughtered like an Arcanine. His new croconaw had killed like the devil.