I swore to all that's holy that I wouldn't write a sequel.
I lied.
And, btw, when something's written all in caps, it's
song lyrics.
******************************
MIRROR IN THE DARK PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS
DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR (a work of pokemon non-fan-fiction)
DREAM 0:2
******************************
The sky was dark, but a warm wind blew across the dusty
playground. Candles formed a circle in the midst of the equipment,
threw their flickering light against cold steel and black pavement.
In a near-parody of the professional league that frowned on its
existence, music cued up from a car parked nearby. Stepping from the
shadows was a shadow himself, dressed in black, with only his pale
face exposed. Tossing his long black mane, he called out over the
industrial poundings of his 'theme', "Who dares challenge me, the
darkness, the source, the champion of this arena?"
The industrial thrash cut off, and was replaced
by the classical rock of "Epitaph".
From the opposite end of the circle stepped the opponent.
Dressed in khakis and a battered league jacket, the newcomer stepped
trough the circle of spectators and completed the ritual.
"Champion of Pallet Elementary, my name is Josh Ransom, and I
challenge you by Backalley League rules for your title."
The crowd gasped. Josh Ransom? It couldn't be. The former league
champion, reduced to pitfights?
The goth looked slightly nervous, but he smiled evilly and
sneered, "My name is Plysophath, imposter. I accept your challenge. The
match will be held two..." He raised one hand, with fingers V-ed, to
illustrate. "...to two." He raised his other hand. Josh nodded. Two
pokemon per trainer. He could handle it.
Sliding through a regal bow, Plysopath withdrew a black sphere
from his flowing coat. At least that's what he must have done, as no one
could see well enough with only candles.
"Gengar, go!"
The champion tossed his pokeball into the center of the circle of
flame, where it popped open and released the ghost.
Josh nodded, once.
He removed a standard league pokeball from his coat, and tossed
it into the ring, with two words that electrified the crowd.
"Jackie, go."
Jackie the Hitmonchan! It couldn't possibly be the same Jackie
that Ransom used to win the championship! The crowd was really interested
now, and Plysophath was looking rather uneasy. This was not a pokemon
that one would tangle with if you were a smart trainer, like Plysophath
thought he was.
As the pokeball landed with a plasticky sound in the ring, A
gnomish humanoid creature emerged from it.
"Hit...mon...chan."
It took a moment to glide through a brief kata, then lowered its
gloves to an opening stance.
Plysophath, staring with open contempt at his challenger, waited
a moment. Then, as the guy in the car cranked up his trance CD, The
goth made his move.
"Gengar! Spirit Wither!"
"Garrr..."
The ghost half-stepped, half-glided forward, and opened its mouth
to breathe a cold, evil wind at the martial arts pokemon.
"Cha-*hack*-*hack*-*cough*-nnnn..."
It fell over backwards, but only for a moment.
As it jumped to its feet, Josh called out, "Weave and Unravel!"
and Hitmonchan rushed to comply.
Gathering spiritual energy about his gloves, Jackie bobbed and
ducked, ending up right in Gengar's face. There, he let loose with a
flurry of punches, each one charged with ki that sliced straight through
the ghost. With a cry of pain, it fell down.
In one sigh, Plysophath described all the pain and suffering he
felt. "Gengar, return."
The call of the pokeball was inevitable.
And here's where things got *really* icky.
A cold wind sprang up about the competitors as an illuminated circle
flared to life about Plysophath.
He began screaming, "BENATIR! CARARKAU! DEDOS! YOG-SOTHOTH! Come
forth! Come forth! I speak the Words, I break Thy Bonds, the Seal is
cast aside, pass through the Gate and enter the World I maketh Thy
mighty Sign!"
A shadow swept 'round our good buddy Plyso and coalesced in his
palm into the unholy form of...a pokeball. A regular old pokeball, not
even painted black.
Josh began to sweat. He had seen better summoning tricks, but
something about this one just screamed 'YOU ARE SO DEAD'.
An unholy light to his dark-contacted eyes, Plysophath tossed
the ball into the ring of candles. "Yog-Sothoth, COME FORTH!" he
screamed, foam flecking his cheeks.
The ball opened, and...something...came out.
It wasn't exactly formless, more like...ectoplasm brought back
to life. Living shadows, cast in a mind-rending form that pulsated
sickly in the dim light.
Josh was not a happy camper.
Jackie stretched and said nothing.
Like a winter wind, the phonemes, "Yog.....Yog-Sothoth..." floated
across the battlefield and cut to the bone.
Josh inhaled deeply for a moment, remembering the words to a song.
THE WALL ON WHICH THE PROPHETS WROTE IS CRACKING AT THE SEAMS
"Jackie. Dragoon."
The little pokemon immediately jumped straight up, out of sight.
UPON THE INSTRUMENTS OF DEATH THE SUNLIGHT BRIGHTLY GLEAMS
Plysophath's voice was cold, hollow.
"Yog-Sothoth. Kill."
WHEN EVERY MAN IS TORN APART WITH NIGHTMARES AND WITH DREAMS
The tendrils of darkness snaked out, lashing towards Ransom. With
a yelp of fear, he fell backwards, onto the cold ground. Spectators
scattered by the dozen, most to run from the scene in fear, many to
get a safer view twenty or so feet back.
WILL NO ONE LAY THE LAUREL WREATH AS SILENCE DROWNS THE SCREAMS?
Josh had barely time to blink before Yog-Sothoth noticed the
fleeing spectators, and immolated them all with a gesture. The screams
of the dying filled the schoolyard air.
CONFUSION WILL BE MY EPITAPH
Josh once more became the attention of the creature from Outside,
as it moved to sink itself into Josh, devoring him, form and spirit.
AS I CRAWL A CRACKED AND BROKEN PATH
Then a slight whistling was heard across the battlefield. A pokemon
came flying out of the sky, red gloves blazing with holy light, driving
straight down, directly through Yog-Sothoth.
IF WE MAKE IT WE CAN ALL SIT BACK AND LAUGH
"Chan," he said, with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
Yog-Sothoth was halted in its attack, but it was nowhere near done.
It turned round, hunger written across its near-illegible features.
Frantically, Plysophath made the Ancient Sign of Koth to seal the
Gate and return Yog-Sothoth to his dread Masters, but the fates would
have none of that, and they did this night give Plysophath the big
middle finger.
BUT I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING
As Yog-Sothoth finished with the cruel and unusual execution of
Plysophath, it turned back towards Josh.
There was complete silence over the entire area, except in the
halls of Josh Ransom's mind.
Ringing through his synapses were the words, "Another time,
human."
In pain, Josh gripped his head with his hands.
Yog-Sothoth vanished.
YES I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING
Josh, shaking a bit in shock, picked up a cell phone from where
someone had dropped it, and dialed a number.
"Pokemon League Headquarters, this is Rose, how may
I help you?"
"Rose, gimme Ash. We've got...a problem."
******************************
Nyah.
There ya go.
A Darker-toned fic, not the first,
but somthing interesting, I figure. And yes,
I will be writing another tale to finish this
one off.
And...the Lyrics used in this bit were written by divers members
of King Crimson in 1969. (C) E'G Records...
Pokemon and all stuff associated with it is (C) Nintendo, 4Kids,
Gamefreak, and other associated members of the new media conspiracy.
******************************
"delusions of grandeur- dream 0:2", (C) 2000, Mirror in the Dark Productions
******************************
I lied.
And, btw, when something's written all in caps, it's
song lyrics.
******************************
MIRROR IN THE DARK PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS
DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR (a work of pokemon non-fan-fiction)
DREAM 0:2
******************************
The sky was dark, but a warm wind blew across the dusty
playground. Candles formed a circle in the midst of the equipment,
threw their flickering light against cold steel and black pavement.
In a near-parody of the professional league that frowned on its
existence, music cued up from a car parked nearby. Stepping from the
shadows was a shadow himself, dressed in black, with only his pale
face exposed. Tossing his long black mane, he called out over the
industrial poundings of his 'theme', "Who dares challenge me, the
darkness, the source, the champion of this arena?"
The industrial thrash cut off, and was replaced
by the classical rock of "Epitaph".
From the opposite end of the circle stepped the opponent.
Dressed in khakis and a battered league jacket, the newcomer stepped
trough the circle of spectators and completed the ritual.
"Champion of Pallet Elementary, my name is Josh Ransom, and I
challenge you by Backalley League rules for your title."
The crowd gasped. Josh Ransom? It couldn't be. The former league
champion, reduced to pitfights?
The goth looked slightly nervous, but he smiled evilly and
sneered, "My name is Plysophath, imposter. I accept your challenge. The
match will be held two..." He raised one hand, with fingers V-ed, to
illustrate. "...to two." He raised his other hand. Josh nodded. Two
pokemon per trainer. He could handle it.
Sliding through a regal bow, Plysopath withdrew a black sphere
from his flowing coat. At least that's what he must have done, as no one
could see well enough with only candles.
"Gengar, go!"
The champion tossed his pokeball into the center of the circle of
flame, where it popped open and released the ghost.
Josh nodded, once.
He removed a standard league pokeball from his coat, and tossed
it into the ring, with two words that electrified the crowd.
"Jackie, go."
Jackie the Hitmonchan! It couldn't possibly be the same Jackie
that Ransom used to win the championship! The crowd was really interested
now, and Plysophath was looking rather uneasy. This was not a pokemon
that one would tangle with if you were a smart trainer, like Plysophath
thought he was.
As the pokeball landed with a plasticky sound in the ring, A
gnomish humanoid creature emerged from it.
"Hit...mon...chan."
It took a moment to glide through a brief kata, then lowered its
gloves to an opening stance.
Plysophath, staring with open contempt at his challenger, waited
a moment. Then, as the guy in the car cranked up his trance CD, The
goth made his move.
"Gengar! Spirit Wither!"
"Garrr..."
The ghost half-stepped, half-glided forward, and opened its mouth
to breathe a cold, evil wind at the martial arts pokemon.
"Cha-*hack*-*hack*-*cough*-nnnn..."
It fell over backwards, but only for a moment.
As it jumped to its feet, Josh called out, "Weave and Unravel!"
and Hitmonchan rushed to comply.
Gathering spiritual energy about his gloves, Jackie bobbed and
ducked, ending up right in Gengar's face. There, he let loose with a
flurry of punches, each one charged with ki that sliced straight through
the ghost. With a cry of pain, it fell down.
In one sigh, Plysophath described all the pain and suffering he
felt. "Gengar, return."
The call of the pokeball was inevitable.
And here's where things got *really* icky.
A cold wind sprang up about the competitors as an illuminated circle
flared to life about Plysophath.
He began screaming, "BENATIR! CARARKAU! DEDOS! YOG-SOTHOTH! Come
forth! Come forth! I speak the Words, I break Thy Bonds, the Seal is
cast aside, pass through the Gate and enter the World I maketh Thy
mighty Sign!"
A shadow swept 'round our good buddy Plyso and coalesced in his
palm into the unholy form of...a pokeball. A regular old pokeball, not
even painted black.
Josh began to sweat. He had seen better summoning tricks, but
something about this one just screamed 'YOU ARE SO DEAD'.
An unholy light to his dark-contacted eyes, Plysophath tossed
the ball into the ring of candles. "Yog-Sothoth, COME FORTH!" he
screamed, foam flecking his cheeks.
The ball opened, and...something...came out.
It wasn't exactly formless, more like...ectoplasm brought back
to life. Living shadows, cast in a mind-rending form that pulsated
sickly in the dim light.
Josh was not a happy camper.
Jackie stretched and said nothing.
Like a winter wind, the phonemes, "Yog.....Yog-Sothoth..." floated
across the battlefield and cut to the bone.
Josh inhaled deeply for a moment, remembering the words to a song.
THE WALL ON WHICH THE PROPHETS WROTE IS CRACKING AT THE SEAMS
"Jackie. Dragoon."
The little pokemon immediately jumped straight up, out of sight.
UPON THE INSTRUMENTS OF DEATH THE SUNLIGHT BRIGHTLY GLEAMS
Plysophath's voice was cold, hollow.
"Yog-Sothoth. Kill."
WHEN EVERY MAN IS TORN APART WITH NIGHTMARES AND WITH DREAMS
The tendrils of darkness snaked out, lashing towards Ransom. With
a yelp of fear, he fell backwards, onto the cold ground. Spectators
scattered by the dozen, most to run from the scene in fear, many to
get a safer view twenty or so feet back.
WILL NO ONE LAY THE LAUREL WREATH AS SILENCE DROWNS THE SCREAMS?
Josh had barely time to blink before Yog-Sothoth noticed the
fleeing spectators, and immolated them all with a gesture. The screams
of the dying filled the schoolyard air.
CONFUSION WILL BE MY EPITAPH
Josh once more became the attention of the creature from Outside,
as it moved to sink itself into Josh, devoring him, form and spirit.
AS I CRAWL A CRACKED AND BROKEN PATH
Then a slight whistling was heard across the battlefield. A pokemon
came flying out of the sky, red gloves blazing with holy light, driving
straight down, directly through Yog-Sothoth.
IF WE MAKE IT WE CAN ALL SIT BACK AND LAUGH
"Chan," he said, with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
Yog-Sothoth was halted in its attack, but it was nowhere near done.
It turned round, hunger written across its near-illegible features.
Frantically, Plysophath made the Ancient Sign of Koth to seal the
Gate and return Yog-Sothoth to his dread Masters, but the fates would
have none of that, and they did this night give Plysophath the big
middle finger.
BUT I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING
As Yog-Sothoth finished with the cruel and unusual execution of
Plysophath, it turned back towards Josh.
There was complete silence over the entire area, except in the
halls of Josh Ransom's mind.
Ringing through his synapses were the words, "Another time,
human."
In pain, Josh gripped his head with his hands.
Yog-Sothoth vanished.
YES I FEAR TOMORROW I'LL BE CRYING
Josh, shaking a bit in shock, picked up a cell phone from where
someone had dropped it, and dialed a number.
"Pokemon League Headquarters, this is Rose, how may
I help you?"
"Rose, gimme Ash. We've got...a problem."
******************************
Nyah.
There ya go.
A Darker-toned fic, not the first,
but somthing interesting, I figure. And yes,
I will be writing another tale to finish this
one off.
And...the Lyrics used in this bit were written by divers members
of King Crimson in 1969. (C) E'G Records...
Pokemon and all stuff associated with it is (C) Nintendo, 4Kids,
Gamefreak, and other associated members of the new media conspiracy.
******************************
"delusions of grandeur- dream 0:2", (C) 2000, Mirror in the Dark Productions
******************************