Locke and Key: A Nuzlocke Story
I've been burned so bad, but I still play with fire
Sometimes naked truth is what I don't believe in.
Don't ever tell me I'm falling apart;
Don't ever tell me I will not survive.
Don't ever tell me this love is a lie,
'Cause I am the lie. I am the liar.
-Lacuna Coil, "I Won't Tell You"; Shallow Life.
The Rockets knew I had breached their building – they had to, didn't they? I broke their guard completely. I had a mental note to immediately let Giovanni know that he had shitty security.
He could have the best money could buy – Kanto's money, to be exact. Man, I didn't even need my own writer. I was hilarious.
"Okay… so, what floor should I be going to?" I raced past an empty, scattered-looking receptionist desk. There was absolutely nobody on the first floor. Nobody.
"Nall," came a heavy voice from behind me. Lyrica lifted a massive claw, punched in the second button, and gestured for me to go inside. I shrugged.
"Fine. We'll take his empire down brick by fucking brick."
Silph Co. looked pretty much how you would imagine from the inside. Sterile, littered with cubicles and small laboratory spaces on all of their floors but—I imagined—the top ones, it was obviously in the middle of a hostile takeover. Chairs were knocked over, papers flying through the air to settle on the floor.
Blood-edged footprints—boot prints?—were smashed into piles of paper, ruined computer pieces, and the tile floor in general. Where were the non-cooperative workers? Was that what remained of them?
I gritted my teeth in anger as I surveyed the damage. There weren't any grunts here, that I could see, but I knew they would be alerted of my presence and would attack me as soon as they had orders to.
Giovanni would see to it that I wouldn't get to him—or he should.
"Nal nal," softly intoned the Nidoqueen behind me. Her large, damp eyes looked at the scene before us with different eyes than I—piteous eyes. She was seeing empathy, as some Pokemon were apt to do.
I was seeing results.
"Well—looks like I found the bitch that the Boss Man's sent us down to find!"
I felt a claw on my shoulder, a stiff, gloved hand, that pulled me around to face a smooth-faced Rocket grunt. A bit of a lightweight, but his belt—from what I could see of it—had only a few Poke Balls.
"I don't know if I'm the bitch, but I certainly fit the rest of the description," I said, as smoothly as I could while staring into his cold and placid eyes. "But, uh, hate to break it to ya—I'm not alone."
"No? We'll just take out whoever's with you, then." He reached to his belt—he had a walkie-talkie clipped to it—but a heavy paw stayed his arm. A steel-blue one, scaled and thick with muscle and claws.
"What the—"
"Send out your Pokemon, or be crushed." I smirked.
If Pokemon were the weapons of choice, I could bring Silph Co.'s kidnappers down.
Couldn't I?
Floor two was cleared quickly. Lyrica's Body Slam, Toxic and Double Kick worked wonders on the Rockets Raticate, Zubat and Golbat combinations.
Giovanni—your soldiers suck, I thought, surveying the damage I'd caused. Rockets with exhausted, fainted, and battered Pokemon were chattering on their walkie-talkies.
In a massive building with hardened criminals, I suppose I should've been cautious—afraid, even—but I wasn't feeling much of either. I didn't step lightly, and I couldn't understand any my true emotions. Rage, indignation, and determination—but they were all dulled.
Lyrica kept handsy Rocket grunts at bay—I had thought to use Kashen, but she seemed offended by the idea. There was a lot of me in that Nidoqueen, no doubt-for a strictly female Pokemon who was infertile and rare, she was powerful, independent, and quite reliable.
I'd had two Ground Pokemon prior to her—a peppy male Dugtrio, and a wounded warrior, my Marowak. Lyrica wasn't either of them. She had hardness in her that allowed her to survive in battle, but she hadn't lost her heart.
I stroked the smooth side of her horn, smiling with pride.
"Alright, Lyrica. I'm gonna switch you out—can't take any chances."
She flicked a hard gaze at me. "Nal!"
"You're injured. Come on. Kashen could take this—"
"Nal!"
I blinked in surprise. "Fine. Not Kashen. Uh… CeeCee? I was going to save him for Giovanni—I'm pretty sure he likes Rock types…"
She flicked her eyes away.
"You're too proud, girl," I said, uttering a laugh.
We were on the fifth floor—fifth of many, I was sure—and Lyrica had been pounding Golbats left and right. She'd taken a few hits, even for her hard, scaly flesh. I was itching to bring out Kashen and his new technique, but I respected Lyrica too much to do so.
"You've got some rivalry going on. Fine. Flitz and Frederick can handle this."
I took her Poke Ball and recalled her, despite her unhappy expression.
And when I turned back to the staircase, I heard some muffled voices from above.
"We can't just sit here!"
"What the hell are we gonna do, huh? They took our Pokemon."
"I think Jackson—you know, the new guy?—I think he still has one."
"Which one?"
"How the hell should I know?"
A man and a woman, both sounding worried, frantic—arguing.
"Shit," I muttered, racing up the stairs. I found a woman, sure enough, redheaded (out of a box) and in a dark skirt suit. The man she was with was young and attractive, but looked more afraid than she did. He'd been the non-believer, I gathered.
Both were bound and pressed together closely, and when I arrived in a loud clatter of footsteps, they both looked up, the man fearful, the woman with some sort of hope.
"Are you the police?" The man asked, nervously flicking his eyes about. "Cause you sure as hell don't look like it."
"She's not Team Rocket," the woman said lowly. "That's a start."
"How's she going to help us, huh?"
I didn't say anything. Instead, I began to pick at the duct tape on their wrists.
"Are you with Silph?" The man pressed. "Never seen you before. Are you with the League? Or—"
"Are you ever going to shut up?" I pulled the duct tape free, then dropped it at his feet. "I'm not with Silph, the Saffron Police Department, the Sheriff's Department, the League, or, hell, anybody."
"Then how are you supposed to help us?"
"Because my team and I have brought Team Rocket down before, and I'm not gonna stop 'til they're down." I met his gaze, putting as much emotion as I could into my face—but he only laughed.
The woman elbowed him, standing up. She pursed her lipstick-painted lips. "I don't know who you are, but thank you for helping us. If you got this far, maybe you really can bring them down."
"I'd like to think so," I said, giving her partner a glare. "How many of you are there?"
The man interrupted. He was running a hand through his dark hair. "Several employees, many different departments. Our president's negotiating with Giovanni on the top floor."
"Negotiating? Does this look like an official business agreement to you?" I shook my head, incredulous.
"Well… it did at first," he said, a note of remorse in his voice.
"I guess it did to everybody."
As I continued on my way, the woman called out to me.
"There's a man and a woman on the next floor—they can help your Pokemon." His eyes took on a hard glaze. "Get Giovanni the fuck out of Silph Co."
"That's the plan," I said, a smile curling my lips.
True to their word, after plowing through second-rate Rockets, I did find a man and a woman cowering in a room. Neither were bound—and one had two Poke Balls clipped to his belt.
"Are you the girl that's been helping Silph Co?" The man asked.
"Yeah. Leaf. Nice to meet you both." Neither offered their names, but he did shake hands. "Someone down below said you'd heal my Pokemon."
"Of course," the woman offered. "We've got Full Restores and Ethers. Just hand me their Balls, and I'll heal them up. You'll need it." Her eyes darkened.
"Yeah."
The man looked at me, still smiling. Creep.
"You know, there's something I'd like you to have, in case things get too tough."
"What?"
"I have this Pokemon that's been sitting at my belt for forever. I have a Water type already, and it's a much higher level," he explained, setting a brand-new Poke Ball in my hand. I looked at it, confused.
"What is it? Why are you—"
"It's a Lapras. It's a good surfer, and it knows Ice attacks, too, but I have a Cloyster that does the job similarly. Take it. Just in case."
I guess if something happens to CeeCee… "Thanks."
The woman handed me my healed Pokemon. I noticed a tremor in her hands.
"Are you alright?" I quickly inspected each Ball, noting, satisfactorily, that each was in good condition.
"No," she responded, sounding bitter. "We've all been subjected to a lot. Traumatic things. And… God, I hope that Giovanni rots in hell," she murmured.
"Do you know the young man here? He said he's helping us, too," the man interrupted.
"What young man?" A thought occurred to me. "What did he look like?"
"Oh, you know. Real handsome guy. Blond hair, blue eyes, taller, sportsy," the woman described.
Green… what the hell is he doing here?
"I've got to go, in that case..."
I got my answer when I ran out—straight into a patrolling Rocket.
"Gotcha!" He sneered, grabbing my flailing arms. I gasped, looking up into his face—and recognizing him almost immediately.
"You're that Rocket with a hurt leg…" I muttered. "Weren't you with the guard downstairs, at the casino in Celadon?"
He grinned, a sleazy, slimy visual that sent chills down my spine.
"Brent? Hell yeah. Me an' him were partners, and it took forever for me to turn him into a good Rocket." He narrowed his eyes. "I guess it hit him when that damned Marowak hit me in the knee that you gotta do what you gotta do." He winked.
I killed its mother.
"You made him shoot Dusty's mother…" I couldn't believe it. Call me naive-but I hadn't expected it to be somebody I had already ran into.
And had had the bad luck to run into again.
He had my arms-I couldn't reach my belt. His grip was far stronger than my strength, as he was a thirty-something man, and I was an almost-sixteen-year-old girl.
What I was looking in the eyes was the embodiment of the evil I'd been fighting all along.
"Sure as hell did. But he didn't need goading, much. No! See, there's a killer in all of us. Just takes money and excitement to bring it out."
My lips parted—and he took advantage of that. The big man leaned forward to bite my lips, the stubble on his face scratching my skin.
"Get the fuck off me!" I shrieked, trying to kick him where it'd hurt the most—but he grabbed my leg, smirking.
"Just stop fighting what you really want," he admonished.
"Blastoise—Water Pulse!"
From behind the Rocket, a sound of something being forced from a gun hit our ears—and suddenly, the man who gripped me was flung forwards, me with him. I was so shocked that I didn't even realize that when he did, he was soaking wet.
And the hallways were, too. I struggled from under his massive weight, pinned to the floor, when I found myself staring at Green Oak, his starter by his side. Fully evolved. I had a moment to appreciate Squirtle's top evolved form—not as impressive as Charmander's, of course, but still pretty amazing. Fully cocked cannons on its shoulders, massive shell armor, and violent eyes—a big improvement from Squirtle and Wartortle.
"Help me up," I gasped, and Green ran forward, cursing under his breath. His shoes splashed into the puddle on the tile floor, and soaked the knees of his expensive jeans as he helped me stand.
"That was a horrible shot," I accused, glaring at his Blastoise, who looked as though he could care less. Kashen would have flamed me if I'd said something like that.
"No thanks?" Green asked dryly.
"Hell no. You let that disgusting thing touch me," I said, and just saying the words made me shudder violently.
A flash of anger crossed Green's normally calm blue gaze. "Sorry. I just heard you two fighting when I turned the corner, and I already had Blastoise out."
"It's whatever." It definitely wasn't. "What are you doing here? What happened to me being a wannabe hero, me trying to play the big—"
"Look, I don't know. You were right. And I saw this on the news… and I knew you'd go after them."
"How'd you know that?"
"'Cause I'm smarter than you give me credit for," he answered, using that hard, arid tone again. "We have to hurry. I don't know what's going on on the top floor, but it can't be good."
"No kidding." I took a handful of my hair and wrenched as much water out of it as I could. "What about this joke of a Rocket?"
I was, of course, referring to the pedophile on the floor.
"Joke?" The man coughed, sputtering his words with indignation as well as Water Pulse aftermath. "I'll fucking kill both of you little kids for this!"
His hands held out two Poke Balls—one that released an enormous Ekans, and one that held a Sandslash. "You'll fucking pay!"
Green motioned to his Blastoise, who stomped over before the Sandslash, cannons primed. "You ready for this, Leaf?"
I nodded, holding the Poke Ball for Lyrica. "Of course I am."
"Water Pulse!" Green shouted, while I called, "Lyrica, go! Use Superpower!"
Double Kick be damned. Green blasted the opposing Ground type away, and Lyrica's massive attack proved to overcome type disadvantage. She lifted the long, lithe body of the adder, twisted it, and hurled it against its trainer.
The man fell, burdened by his Poison type, and Green and I shared a quick, triumphant glance.
"Let's go!"
Side by side, we took off—and I couldn't help but smile.
I wasn't used to having any human comrades.
