ALTERNATE PERCEPTION: THE BLACK MASK WAR

Chapter 1:

My name is Gavin Marsh, if you care. I've seen what your world thinks of ours. I've seen the games, the TV shows, and all the rest. You think it's a perfect world. You think we go around all day catching Pokémon, and living in perfect harmony with one another. You think it'd be a nice place to live, right?

So would I, if it were actually true.

It may have been like that once. In reality, the Sevii Islands are far enough away to allow their residents near-ideal lives. The rest of the world has not been so lucky. Here, people use Pokémon for protection, rather than companionship. To have Pokémon is to have power, and if you catch enough, you could rule the world. That's what I'm here to tell you about, and I'll get to it later. But first, let me tell you a little about my life up to this point, and why it sucks just a bit more than anyone else's.

It's a cruel enough world to grow up in with decent parents. In fact, it would have been easier with any parents at all. You see, though their diplomas both read "scientist", my parents were more what you would call Pokémaniacs. They were obsessed with the damned creatures in nearly every way possible. They both got killed when I was eight, while studying Beedrill in Ilex Forest. They got all the way back to our house in Azalea Town before the poison finally killed them. That's one day I've always wished I could forget...

After that, I moved to live with my grandparents in Lavaridge Town in Hoenn. Aside from the Sevii archipelago, it was the most peaceful town in the world. It was also, as a retirement community, the most boring damn place I've ever been. That is, until Mt. Chimney erupted. When we came back after it was over, there was nothing left. We then migrated to Oza Island (or Three Island, as you know it). Or, rather, we would have, except for one slight problem: on a fuel stop in Kanto, the Seagallop 7 we had taken (the last one in service) got torn to shreds by an extremely pissed Gyarados. So we moved to Cerulean City, partly because it was near the sea, and partly because it was far, far, far away from the volcano at Cinnabar.

And that's when things went downhill. Cerulean got hit by gangs several times over the next few years, and, in the end, our house was among the few buildings left standing, though just barely. My grandparents then decided to move to my parents' old house in Azalea. The scientist who had been renting it for its extensive lab had met a fairly sticky end (that wasn't a figure of speech, by the way: it involved one very pissed off Muk), and since the sleepy town had been fairly quiet for the past few years, they jumped at the chance. I was 17 then, and itching to be on my own. At least, that's what I told them. The real reason? I don't think I could wake up every day, step outside, and see the spot where I had found my parents' bodies, covered in dried blood and giant welts. I think they knew, though, but they reluctantly let me stay. Anyway, the chances of being found by a gang were pretty slim, as Cerulean had been presumed deserted for some time, and some even rumored it to be haunted. I wasn't worried, and neither were the other ten or so residents remaining.

Then, all went to hell.

Yes, then. Not before. Then.

One day, a few months after my liberation, a gang called the Black Mask declared war on the Indigo Pokémon League, the ruling body of the country. Their headquarters of choice: the "abandoned" city of Cerulean. They moved in that night and decided to burn down the last few buildings. I remember that night all too well: the roars of Charizard and the howls of Arcanine drowning out the bloodcurdling screams of my neighbors as they were either burned by the fire Pokémon's flames or shot by the gang members' guns. As far as I knew, I was the only survivor.

After that, I ran. I just ran. I ran until I reached Saffron City. Now, this city also had a reputation, but unlike Cerulean, the rumors about Saffron were true. Trust me. I know personally. Anyway, I looked around for some shelter (brushing my hair out of my eyes as I did so) and spotted the city's PokéMart. That is, what was left of it. In the burnt-out ruins I found a few Potions and Burn Heals, which turned out to work as well on me as they did on Pokémon, and some Pokémon food. It tasted like crap. Absolute crap. I remember telling myself that if I ever got a Pokémon (Ha! Fat chance!), I would never make it eat that stuff.

I cleared away a small space on the floor to sleep, then stepped out of the hollowed-out shell that was once a store, and gazed around at the destruction. That place always gave me the creeps, and it still does. All the fires had long since gone out, but there were a few spots that were still highly radioactive. Why? Trust me, you don't know even half the Pokémon that exist here, and you probably never will. Some are just too nasty to be watered down into little cartoon characters like the rest. There was also the matter of the old Gym. It just stood there ominously in the distance, looking very creepy as the sole building remaining in the city.

That Gym is why Saffron is said to be haunted. I never knew what they meant until I saw it with my own eyes. You see, the Black Mask didn't just declare war on the IPL overnight. The anarchist gang had been wreaking havoc for some time. Their biggest attack: every Gym in Kanto was utterly annihilated in one fell swoop. Burned, bombed, and otherwise demolished. The League was devastated, but maintained.

Then, something strange happened. Overnight, Saffron's Gym, which had been one of the most thoroughly razed, appeared back in its original place, perfectly restored. What's more, Mara, the Gym's leader, was seen inside through the locked doors. Her body had been found in the Gym's ruins a few days before. The Black Mask didn't know what in all hell had happened, but they stormed the city a few days later. They brought Fire types to burn, Rock types to demolish, and Atomic types to render the area uninhabitable for many years. They also brought guns. Lots and lots of guns. It was a massacre. But the horror wasn't over. A few days later, after all the bodies had been counted, the Gym reappeared again. The doors were unlocked. The rescue workers, who thought there might be survivors inside, ventured in. Pieces of them were found scattered around the area the next day. The doors were once again locked.

I shuddered involuntarily, and forced myself to look away from the evil building. Moving my tousled brown hair out of my eyes again, I returned to the shop to try to get some sleep. I don't really like my hair, but girls seem to, so I put up with it. When I walked through the charred doorframe, I found a few Great Balls lying partially hidden under some empty boxes. I stuck them in my pocket absentmindedly. I wasn't even thinking about where I would go the next day. I just curled up in the ruins of the old market.

Five minutes later, I threw up. Damn Pokémon food.

It was gonna be a long night...

NEXT TIME...

The creature looked at me murderously, and yet I knew in that moment that it was meant to be.

I must be crazy...