Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Pokémon or any of its parent companies. I am merely a humble storyteller. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this journey with me.

Note: I am English, so some of the wording, spellings, and expressions will be those commonly used in England.

Chapter Five: Danger! Code Yellow!

Blue admired the octagonal badge in the palm of his hand, grey but not dull, shining in the glow provided by the light beams above.

Too easy. That was all he could say about the battle. Squirtle barely broke a sweat, it barely took any damage. If that was all the challenge the Gym Leaders were going to give him, then the Pokémon League might as well allow him to register for it already.

It was not as if the title was not his anyway. Even so early into his journey, the call of the Championship was loud and clear. As everyone has told him hundreds of times, he was Professor Oak's grandson; he had to live up to his name and fame.

Sitting on a settee in the Pewter City Pokémon Centre, Blue had his Town Map in his hands, a newer, computerised one he received from the Silph Corporation (another perk of being Professor's Oak's grandson). According to it, Mt. Moon was where he was headed next.

Blue put away his Town Map and shrugged. There would be a few Pokémon to capture there, but he would get through it as quickly as possible. After all, he could always retravel Kanto after becoming Champion and capture every single last Pokémon there was. Before heading to other regions, of course.

He leaned back, sinking into the comfy cushions. It was all coming together. Success and he went hand-in-hand like a Plusle and a Minun.

Everyone would be left in his dust.

o~o~o~o~o

"Wait up, Pikachu! I've got to capture you!"

Red jogged after the electric rodent over the uneven terrain, careful not to sprain an ankle, Charmander managing to keep pace (the Potion he received from the shopkeeper in the city had proven exceptionally useful to Charmander, who now had an extra spring in its step).

The Pikachu was quick, but Red managed to keep it in his sight, despite the increasing claustrophobia of the trees growing closer and closer together; a flash of yellow or an electric bolt-shaped tail were very good hints that Red was headed the right way.

But the further Charmander and him followed the Pikachu, the further away they went from the path they had been travelling before, the path people and common sense would tell them was not sensible to leave. The dark, prickly ambience of this part of the forest made the back of Red's neck tickle uncomfortably, but on he went regardless; he had come too far to stop now.

And soon, the duo did stop. They stopped because the Pikachu stopped. The Pikachu stopped because there was no way in heck it was moving any further, for it ran into a clearing, and in that clearing stood an old tree, perhaps older than any other tree in the forest. Attached to that tree were a bunch of Kakuna, their glittering black eyes glaring at the boy and two Pokémon. The Pikachu backed away, little by little.

At once, the air was filled with a raucous buzzing sound, so loud it seemed to drill into Red's head, and it set his teeth on edge. From the green, green leaves of the tree came new Pokémon Red had seen a few times before in the many battles he had seen on television. They were large, insectoid creatures, their bodies segmented, yellow in colour with two black stripes that circulated the bottom part of their body. Their eyes were crimson, their wings beat furiously, emitting the buzzing noise, and their antennae twitched irritably. Most scary of all were their three stingers, one at the end of their respective abdomens and two at the end of their forearms.

Shakily, Red pulled out his Pokédex:

Beedrill, a dual Bug and Poison-type Pokémon. It has three poisonous stingers on its forelegs and tail. They are used to jab its enemy repeatedly.

With just as much difficulty as it took to take his Pokédex out, Red put it back into his pocket. His heart beat so hard it hurt his chest. He forced to himself to stare at the swarm of Beedrill hovering above, their stingers appearing sharper than he could have ever imagined them being. Despite the fact horror had washed over him like a tidal wave, he noticed one thing: they were not attacking. Not yet, anyway.

That was good. All he had to do was return Charmander to its Poké Ball, scoop the Pikachu up in his arms, and walk as calmly as possible away and hope they did not follow them. That would work, right? They had intruded upon their habitat, but they had not done anything to insult them or warrant an attack. Maybe they were giving them a chance to leave. Yes, it was so simple.

Or so it would have been. Oh, how it would have been.

From the undergrowth came out a Weedle. It crawled through the fallen leaves, towards the Pikachu, and nudged itself against the electric mouse's fur.

"Oh," Red whispered. "It wants to be friends with Pikachu."

The Pikachu backed away.

The Weedle edged closer.

The Pikachu backed away further.

The Weedle edged closer still.

The Pikachu walloped it with its tail, sending it sailing through the air and smacking the tree.

Red's heart almost stopped beating. "Oh no."

Now, if Red was in a secret facility run by no-good bad guys then this would be the part where alarms would screech and murderous, scarlet lights would flash, sending the entire world into disarray. But he was in a forest. However, that meant nothing.

The buzz from the Beedrills' wings reached new levels on the decibel scale, and they menacingly neared the poor Pikachu, who was frozen to the ground.

The good thing was that they were ignoring Red and Charmander. Escape was easier than battling a Magikarp. Meandering through the forest and getting to Pewter City was nothing compared to taking on a swarm of irritated Beedrill.

Red gritted his teeth. This was his fault. If he did not chase the Pikachu, the it would not have ended up here, it would not be in this predicament.

His eyes met Charmander's, which seemed on the verge of tears. "Charmander," he said. "There's no point in you getting… hurt. You get away, and I'll try and help the Pikachu."

Charmander's eyes flashed to the direction they came from for the longest few seconds in the history of exaggerations. It shook its head and took a step closer to the Beedrill swarm.

"Charmander!" Red hissed angrily, hiding the fact that the heavy feeling in his stomach alleviated somewhat. "I said get out of here. There's too many."

Charmander shook its head, its entire body shaking.

Red took out Charmander's Poké Ball. He would just have to hope someone found Charmander's Poké Ball afterwards, if anyone dared venture foolishly as far as he did. Bile built up in his stomach, threatening to spew out his mouth. "Charmander, ret –"

An ear-piercing shriek filled the air, competing against the deadly, incessant buzzing: the Pikachu barely evaded a strike from one of the Beedrill, the point of its stinger ruffling its fur.

"Pikachu!" Red screamed, running over.

The Pikachu dodged another attack but was hit by the side of another Beedrill's stinger, sending it sprawling in the dirt.

Instinct took over as Red continued his charge forward. "Charmander! Use Ember!"

Fiery sparks drifted through the air, connecting with several of the Beedrill. One took the brunt of the attack and collapsed to the forest floor.

The Beedrill turned on Red and Charmander, their scarlet eyes burning with loathing. However, the former had already reached the Pikachu and swept it into his arms. Its eyes were wide and aware, perhaps a little dazed.

"Are you okay, Pikachu?" Red asked, as a fresh barrage of hot embers struck more Beedrill.

Pikachu squeaked and tried to dislodge itself from Red's grasp. "What? Pikachu?"

It succeeded it tearing itself away from Red and dropped to the ground, landing on its feet. Its cheeks crackled with electricity.

"Pikachu…?"

From its circular, red cheeks came streaks of lightning that shocked a nearby Beedrill, its wings beating slower and slower until it fell to the ground in a heap.

Only a few metres away, Charmander continued putting up a valiant fight against the swarm. But its fire was dimming, its eyes half-open. Then a Beedrill flew towards it like a missile and jabbed it with one of its stingers, tinged with purple, flinging it back.

"Charmander!" Red screamed, running over as it got to its knees. Its breathing was raspy, and purplish shadows hung under its eyes. Red reached out a hand, but Charmander recoiled as it seemed a wave of pain racked through its body. "Are you… are you poisoned?"

Charmander's grimace confirmed that fact.

Another squeal of pain. Pikachu's light body hit Red in the side of the head and fell into his lap, its eyelids flickering as it fought to stay conscious.

There was nothing left for them to do but run. But first…

The Beedrill swarm closed in on them, unhurriedly, their fallen brethren stirring on the ground, Charmander's and the Pikachu's attacks not powerful enough to fully fell them for long.

A flash of red light. Charmander vanished. Red hooked the Poké Ball back onto his belt.

He took out one from his rucksack and held it out to the little Pikachu. "Pikachu," he said as calmly as his voice would allow. "Get in the Poké Ball. It'll keep you safe, and I'll be able to run faster than if I'd carry you. Don't worry, I'll release you after if you want."

The Pikachu shook its head.

It got back up, woozily, staring down the Beedrill.

Its cheeks crackled once more with electricity.

It fell flat on its stomach, its ears drooping.

"Pikachu," Red said in hushed voice.

And from below the Beedrill, crawling through the leaves and grass, was the Weedle the Pikachu walloped. The stinger on its head almost seemed to cry out for retribution. The Weedle picked up speed.

It leapt at Pikachu, as straight as an arrow, determined to pump it full of poison.

Red leapt forward, dropping the Poké Ball, and grabbed the Pikachu. He spun out the way of the Weedle.

White-hot pain almost shut down his body, and he glanced down at his left wrist; blood poured from a large gash, mixing with a watery, violet goo.

The good thing was that the Weedle did not hit the Pikachu. The bad thing was that its stinger had cut along his wrist, and the Poison Sting technique was now working wonders of him.

Red rose to his feet, his vision blurring, his head pounding. The cacophony of Beedrill wings grew louder and quieter at the same time as they still closed in, but the Weedle stayed frozen in spot, trembling, its stinger red.

Oh, how he wanted to sleep. Red desired nothing more than to lie down and drift off. Just a little sleep, right? That was not too much to ask for.

His right arm suddenly felt empty, and he looked down; the Pikachu was on the floor, motionless. Oh, he dropped it. He looked up; the Beedrill were within touching distance. Oh, maybe he ought to put it in a Poké Ball like he said he was going to do.

He crouched and half-blindly searched the ground for his dropped Poké Ball, finding it straight away. Blackness was starting to wash over him.

It's fine, he thought. I'll just capture it and sleep… capture… and sleep.

He tossed the Poké Ball at where the Pikachu was and fell backwards.

So… sleepy.

And just before he was gone entirely, the last thing Red saw was the Beedrill flying away and a shadowy figure standing over him. Not that it mattered.

Red blacked out.