Thursday, April 5th 2001
Jessie woke up early, feeling disgusted without knowing why. A slight alteration in her position reminded her that it wasn't her husband's hand on her lower back and the pain hit her from where her unknown abductor had etched their message on her front. Tears flowed in a steady stream from her dulled eyes and along the pillow, still damp from the night's misery. She never slept on her front, but she eagerly made an exception; it was to hide her body from him as much as to muffle her night's weeping. How she'd been so desperate as to resort to this to save her life she'd never understand; she should have started walking back to Sunset City, hoping she'd come across Ash and company to blast her into oblivion, with the chance she'd be directed towards her husband. Now she knew she'd blown it, knew the honesty policy had backfired and instead of bringing them closer it ripped a void, obstructive to their paths to true love. She hadn't expected sympathy from him, she was not that naïve, but she hadn't expected his irrational approach to it either—he hadn't hung around long enough for her to arrange a meeting point.
Suddenly a cold thought hit her hard; she had the chance to stay with Elora when the mark of respect ceased, but instead she'd chosen to sacrifice her body to the vile touch of an older nymphomaniac man she despised. She couldn't believe the thought failed to cross her mind, ignoring the fact her mind had been on nothing other than her betrayal with James, which should have sufficed as a hint in its own way. A hideous notion sprung up in replacement: what if he'd returned to the city as he was originally meant to do, and he'd then discover she'd stayed with Giovanni the whole time? Her body felt like her undeniable guilt had just encased it in ice, making her wish she'd thought of something other than her baby and wrecked marriage, because now that was all the marriage was whereas there had been a faint hope of curbing her husband's anger before. But then again, if he'd remained in Sunset City to seethe at her betrayal, he may never find out how much torture her stupidity set her through.
James woke up a few minutes before his sleeping partner did, and he felt partially hollow as he realised he had no regrets about his deed. After the noises Elora had made in the previous night, it seemed she wouldn't either whenever she awoke. When he thought about his wife he felt nothing—neither love nor hatred, or even disappointment. It was like he'd forgotten about his crush on her and given up feelings on her already, which was so unlike his normal characteristics he frightened himself with this knowledge. He was looking forward to delivering her stuff, as it would be the perfect opportunity to show her he'd finally severed his ties with her, and he could get Giovanni back for the unfair assault he'd done to him the day he'd found Weezing. Breaking his nose when he'd slept with his then-fiancée covered none of the acrimonious disdain he hoarded against that man.
Elora pulled him out of his violent desires by stretching slightly as she awoke, which was probably for the best otherwise he could have unintentionally taken his anger out on her if his thoughts were given quite a while to sour. He kissed her after wishing her 'good morning' before waiting for a reply, though he could find her response within the level of the passion she applied. Her revelation that most men were never around when she woke up was repulsive to him—how could they walk away without at least speaking to her in the morning, even if it was only to say goodbye? He didn't bother wondering if she'd meant it when she said she'd never had unprotected sex, as she'd told him repeatedly that it was far better than anything she'd experienced in the past. Unless she was a very powerful actress, she wasn't lying from what her body language screamed at him. It sounded like she'd had as many partners as he'd had electric shocks, making him wonder if she carried any diseases in her mouth, as not many women would perform favours on their partners with protection because of the taste of latex. She took control of the situation by slipping her legs around his back as their kiss lengthened, and it was only right he showed his hostess gratitude for her assistance when he had nowhere to go. His wife could learn her lesson a little later in the day; why should he drop everything for her yet again?
With her husband only a couple of blocks away, Jessie scrambled out of bed. The more guilt shadowed her thoughts, the more she discovered a new will to salvage whatever she could from this mess. Losing a baby was one thing, but to lose her whole family, her world, was unimaginable. She picked up the nearest clothing she could see which was a deep red satin bathrobe of her former employer and wrapped it tightly around herself. She squirmed her way as she hurriedly crossed the bedroom floor, his horrible liquid seeping from her, as well as the blood she'd spilt from his violence on top of her unknown aggressor's marks. She felt very light-headed from the blood-loss she'd suffered from with the miscarriage and stumbled as she neared the door. She put her hand on the knob and twisted it as hard as she could, then with a sudden, unexpected pain hitting her back; she fell to her knees and whimpered against the door. The pain struck her again in her side as Persian delivered another swift blow, this one winding her until she lost her grasp on consciousness. Giovanni petted his pet silently, admiring the way the expensive material panned out as she lay sprawled in forced slumber, as it hinted at what lay beneath but failed to reveal any of it. He crouched down and turned the material aside before stroking his other pet. She was his, and the more she'd try to resist, the more he knew he'd take full possession of her in all senses of the word. There was no escape route for her now, as far as he was concerned.
Meowth felt the hackles on the back of his half-shaved neck rise as he awoke from the hellish nightmare from which he suffered regarding Jessie's horrific miscarriage. He opened one eye and instinctively rolled to his left, entering an attack stance to defend himself from whatever made him feel this uneasy about his surroundings. Moments later an extremely heavy book landed where his head had been just seconds beforehand with a colossal amount of force thrusting its momentum. He looked upwards and saw the ditto resembling Cassidy with a snarl for an expression; it would have been an easy, mess-free death where she could have told Butch he'd slept with that precariously balanced above him or something. Now she'd have to rethink her plan for her second attempt at taking the cat-type's life quietly as there would be no possible openings for another failure after this botched attempt. She turned and headed for the bedroom to ensure there was at least one ally there to back her up if she needed assistance, leaving the other pokémon to dwell upon his hate-breeding thoughts. How had he become so entangled in his own web of treachery and deceit when he'd planned this to the very last detail, with allies from two very powerful and even more dangerous sources? He stalked off and settled in a quiet corner beneath a table, hoping this would provide a source of sanctuary for a couple of hours so he could sleep off his fatigue, even though he knew it would be riddled with nightmares.
Anthony awoke from his heavy drink-induced sleep with a surprising sight connecting with his bleary hangover spoiled vision. Lindsey sat with her sense of arrogant pride, glowing as she watched confusion, love and a certain degree of terror cross his face and betray his true thoughts. He was still where he'd heard her telephone call, unable to stand up or even adjust his position as his legs were dead from him falling asleep with them still crossed. She was two feet away from him at the very most, and when she leaned over him, his instincts had to be suppressed. There was no way in hell she was here for what he wanted, to admit her love for him, so he wouldn't allow any forms of weakness to be visible to her. She saw his obvious restraint and although she'd forbidden herself against slotting back into her old routine, she traced the line of his lips with her tongue, savouring his fear and curiosity. He still refused to succumb to her games just yet and didn't respond in any manner and feigned indifference, as if this happened to him every day of the week. She hovered above his eyes and bore into them with a surprising amount of force from her own and remained in that stance for a moment before delivering her message.
"In your eyes things haven't changed all that much between us over the last couple of days. I could have you killed in a moment for your actions with the gun, but I won't. Not yet in any event"
"And why are you choosing to display a sense of generosity when it was only yesterday you threatened me with consequences you could personally arrange?"
"I have found a purpose for you to stay in the realm of the living, which can be utilised or repudiated at the cost of your life"
"What can I do that the extensive guard of Team Rocket can't? Your puppet would do anything at your whim and you know it"
"That's true, but this is something my 'puppet', as you phrased it, cannot know about. The rewards for the work may be increased upon your success, do you accept or decline?"
"Only a fool accepts something before all the details are known, elaborate to earn your answer"
"Kill a certain ex-member that's creating trouble once more. Giovanni cannot learn of this mission at any costs"
"Who could possibly bother you and not him? Hang on, it's that slut he used to pine after, you're faced with competition for his devotion, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it's not his affection I want, it's his business. With her out of the way I can make my move and promote you to a much higher rank if you so desire"
"How exactly do you enhance a worker's status when they don't belong in your workforce?"
"This is your last opportunity to accept or decline. I'm capable of running that place by myself but I could also do it with a partner. Think about that sentence in all possible meanings of the word, and prepare your answer immediately please"
"I'll carry out your request, but how do I know you'll complete your side?"
"If she dies, I'll have to act immediately or else I'll face the same fate as she will. He'd be dead or out of the picture in some sense within a matter of hours of your success, and you'll be in the work force again, with a role of utmost importance to the organisation. With me"
She stood quickly and left the room with a sudden haste, as though she'd forgotten to clock in for work on time or something, leaving the poor youth with a splitting headache and false hopes of getting back with the one he was in love with. Even though he was completely awake, he remained motionless for another hour or so, enjoying the tingling of his senses returning agonisingly slowly to his lower limbs. His thoughts of revenge were redirected to willingness to succeed with this new mission, feeling nothing, not even a shred of friendship for the one he was assigned to kill. The job would be done effectively whenever he discovered the perfect moment to do it without a risk towards his identity as a sniper becoming known to Giovanni. He'd kill that fool too if he got the chance.
Ash walked through Viridian City with a bright expression upon his face, still feeling elated from the victory he'd achieved in the tournament. The leaders of the tournament had even provided him with transport back to his home town in their promotional tour of the country, and he'd felt pleasure seeing his mother and her Mr Mime again. Upon depositing his trophy and recuperating from the tiring travelling, he'd set back out on his journey, revisiting the location of the town that used to contain the Gym dealing with Earth badges. Misty trailed dejectedly behind him as usual, still feeling betrayed by her friend for hitting her, never mind the severe thrust entailed with it as well. Ever since it happened, her Togepi had stopped chirping, as if it understood with some weird logic that her lack of happiness must be mimicked. Pikachu trotted along the street a couple of feet ahead of its trainer, feeling as if it was on top of the world at being the pokémon responsible for the crucial victory in the tournament, as well as being back on familiar ground. Life was so much different for it now than when it had first been in that location with Ash, and it had very few regrets with its life from occurrences between those dates. Fate was good to them, so why should they worry? That's what the carefree pokémon truly believed anyway. Brock's attention darted intermittently, finding staring at pretty women far more interesting than concentrating on the direction they travelled in. Even though they were in a city, chances were his male friend could somehow get them lost in this urban jungle. The cap-bedecked youth's stomach rumbled loudly in a protest for breakfast, so the trio sat at an outdoor café to bask in the glory of the sunshine to the optimum. Misty wanted to scream, feeling that she left home to escape her sisters and yet here she was, in a more hostile situation than her parentless life had provided.
James felt almost intolerably different to his usual outlook on life; he hated his treacherous wife, one of his former fiancées was dead and the other left alone in a different city. He'd slept with a woman he had no romantic links with and felt no guilt for it, nor did he worry about having any potentially fatal illnesses. Life was more of a burden than he felt worth caring about and almost willed it to end, though he couldn't allow that to occur until he'd cleared his mind from the mental checklist he'd created. The last thing he wanted was to discover an afterlife existed where he could think about what he'd failed to do before returning Death its fond embrace. He almost willed Tyra to the area, unaware of her demise, purely to take vengeance out on her, the only female he really wanted to see suffering.
He was presently sorting out his belongings from Jessie's in the luggage he'd deposited in the staff area of the building the night before, aware that his sleeping partner was watching his moves very carefully. He wanted to shred her clothing before returning it, but he bitterly thought she'd wear it like that anyway, as it would be simpler for everyone to figure out she was a woman with loose morals. Once he was finished, he asked Elora to watch over his stuff and he'd be back as soon as possible. There was a glint in his eyes that frightened her even though his manner wasn't in any way threatening; it was a reverse of the considerate man who'd bedded her that morning. He looked almost inhuman to her, and she was suddenly relieved when he'd made it clear he wasn't looking for a long term relationship. He bore the same aura the cat-type had when it had threatened her for the footage a fortnight ago. He shouldered his wife's belongings easily, looking forward to meeting her in a way he shouldn't, and part of him wished he still thought her dead; even if it meant living with a heavy deceit for the rest of his life, at least he wouldn't have to know about her betrayal, and ultimately he could still love her.
He strode with a burning sense of determination towards the building that housed his unfaithful wife, looking forward to meeting both her and her terrible choice in sleeping partners to vent his agitation. She wouldn't kiss him with any passion yet she was willing to prostitute herself with a man he thought they hated mutually. At least if she tried to cry rape this time he'd fail to believe her for a second, as rapists rarely allow their victims a chance to make a phone call, especially since she hadn't been even remotely hysterical at the time. Brock glanced across the road at the male and recognised him, feeling his attitude even nastier than the last time their paths had crossed in Aqua Town. He pondered the reason for this display of truculent arrogance, but felt an overwhelming wave of relief pour over him when he knew he wasn't to be the victim of James' rage. Misty caught his gaze and followed it to the male across the street, feeling cold as she remembered his inconsiderate attitude when she'd tried to talk to him and he wanted nothing to do with it. She shivered involuntarily, utterly surprised at his presence. She just prayed he wasn't hunting them out for their part in informing his mother of his marital vows.
Anthony fixed the target on his gun to the doors of Team Rocket Headquarters from the rooftop of a hotel on the opposite side of the street, feeling like there was hardly going to be any opportunities to get into the building and get into Giovanni's chambers to complete his assassination so he'd have to stay there and wait it out. She'd have to leave at some point, and then when he went through with it he'd get his side of his bargain from Lindsey. He focused his eyes on the figure the guards stopped to question, and nearly accidentally squeezed the trigger when he jumped in fright; James had struck his fists outwards and caused both of them to collapse. He ignored the two writhing figures on the ground and carried into the edifice, not wanting to stay in the area for longer than he had to.
He paced across the flooring for the second time in the same number of weeks, the feeling of hatred increasing tenfold with each passing second for both his wife and employer. His smile was an acrimonious smirk at the receptionist, savouring the sweet look of fear across her features as both remembered what he'd done the last time. He dropped his bags and smoothly hoisted himself over the counter to the frightened girl. He saw the computer was working again, so he twisted her body round and worked at the screen, his body pinning her against the seat and he entered a code far more complex than the one he previously inundated the machinery, uncertain how long it would have taken them to break it. She gasped as the pressure increased when he altered his position, wishing she were strong enough to move against him, but the knowledge of him being heavier and a lot stronger than her just depressed her as she knew any form of resistance would be unhelpful. She whispered she'd open Giovanni's office if he allowed her to move her wrist and gave him permission to kill her if there was any trace of a falsehood in her statement. He suddenly felt very cold as his conscience returned with full force, knowing he'd frightened this girl into submitting her life—that is if she were telling the truth. He still maliciously sealed the coding, which now displayed a rather nasty comment about the head of the organisation, set to worsen every time the code was worked on incorrectly. He stood up and allowed her to regain feeling in her limbs and she did keep her side of the deal. He thanked her as the office door opened, picked up his bags and headed towards the location that housed both people he hated, as far as he assumed anyway.
Giovanni looked up from his desk in surprise, not having received a request from his secretary to open it, never mind his lack of a reply authorising her to do so. The corners of his mouth twisted into a vindictive simper, knowing too well what it was in relation to. The younger male was not in the least bit afraid because of his having seen it frequently in the past, and bore no fear or respect for the other man anyway. He asked in a dangerously quiet tone the whereabouts of his former partner, not using her name or her marital status in the question deliberately to prove he wanted as few ties with her as possible. The immediate response was non-verbal, but then the elder of the two opted to act a little less immaturely, as it would probably rile James more with the other method. One word sufficed as his new tactic:
"Guess"
If it took any toll on him, however, there was no effect visible. He dropped the bags, spilling some of their contents as they fell against the flooring, turned on his heels as if he were to leave the room then suddenly charged at the unsuspecting occupant of the padded leather chair. A swift, unforeseen blow to the side of his already damaged face rendered the victim temporarily paralysed with shock. James pocketed the handgun resting beneath the desk but removed the ammunition in it, feeling no desire to risk his rage coming back and leaving him with the possibility of relieving some unsuspecting person of their life. His blood still ran cold when he thought about how he'd inadvertently killed Carlotta and her child, especially since Tyra had allegedly carried his and how Jessie had lost theirs. His mother had been desperate for an heir; was he really that much of a rebellious child that he went to such lengths to ensure her wishes went unfulfilled?
He selected one of the discarded bullets and pressed it forcefully into Giovanni's neck, whispering in a dangerous tone what he intended to do if he came near him again, but to feel free to become more acquainted with Jessie if he so desired and had little taste in women. He threw the weapon behind him, striking the Persian in the side of its face and knocked it out instantly, its temple injured heavily however unintentional the knock may have been. He departed quickly, feeling the disdain boiling as he heard the almost invisible door to Giovanni's private quarters creak open and his wife call his name softly, pleadingly. He was dead to her, she'd made another man's bed and lain in it, so why should he go out of his way to listen to her excuses of how it wasn't her fault she'd stayed there all night instead of getting out when granted a sufficient opportunity? He could have possibly forgiven her if she'd sought sanctuary when she knew the pub was open in the evening, but for her further betrayal she could die of a broken heart and he'd consider it justice for how she perpetually toyed with his over the years.
Anthony focused the weapon on James as he exited the building, tempted to squeeze the trigger even though it wouldn't be following his direct orders. It was his personal fury that wanted to eradicate the man, remembering how it was his fault that his girlfriend went into Giovanni's bed in the first place. If the code hadn't wrecked the system, she'd never had needed to stay to break it and their relationship would still be progressing instead of disintegrating. Perspiration beaded on his forehead, finding the source of positive revenge partially available to him, but he knew that if he disobeyed what he was requested then there was no chance of rekindling what he'd like to consider passion. His inner torment ceased the moment he concentrated on the door again, and saw his true target emerge, frail-looking and distraught, tears streaming down her pale, washed out face as she staggered more than walked out of the most dangerous building in Viridian City.
Still wearing the torn red dressing gown, her eyes were puffed and a striking hue of crimson from her terrible crying. James didn't care as he looked at the shell of a woman, but if he'd allowed his eyes to roam her body as was his right as her husband, he would have instantly noticed the ugly bruising and blood, as well as the top of the slogan adorning her chest. Her voice was a sharp gravelly pitch, almost matching how his voice had initially sounded when she'd met up with him again. His eyes became dangerously narrow as he heard her pleading and whimpering, feeling like she was a total disgrace and making a mockery of his disability, but at the same time they questioned what the purpose of the conversation was. She staggered closer to him and he outstretched his fist, catching her on her breastbone, and with a pain-riddled cry she automatically took a couple of steps backwards, in shock from his outward coldness which she was so unaccustomed to. Neither cared about the many spectators they'd gathered, including the two security guards that were still writhing in pain on the ground from James' assault on his way into the building.
"Why are you punishing me?"
"How much time do you have to spare and how capable are you of accepting cold hard facts?"
"James I had no choice, would you rather
I died and you never even knew where my corpse was located, forever assuming
I'd walked out on you?"
"Maybe, because at least that way
I'd have a constant yearning for you instead of constant hatred, and I'd have a
perfect vision of you instead of this flawed figure before me. A cheating
little slut is too rich a term to be inflicted on someone like you"
"You don't mean that"
"Who are you to tell me what I do and don't mean, especially when it comes to what I truly think of you? Are you unable to glance upon what your life is?"
"My life is hell, and anything I've done is what I thought to be the best way out of things. Do you honestly expect me to enjoy what I went through last night?"
"I heard your wanton wails from the pub,
you also referred to him as the man most important in your life"
"Stop goading me with your outright
lies, I can't believe you're acting like this"
"Just as I can't believe you acted like that"
Ash was still oblivious to the scene going on behind him, but Brock and Misty were unable to draw their shocked eyes away from the scene. There was something different about Jessie that they just couldn't place, other than her unusual state of attire. It was eerie seeing the couple rowing so viciously in public, and there was nothing they could do to calm them down as neither wished to be caught in the bitter crossfire. Suddenly Misty remembered, and a cold wave rippled along her spine as a thousand possibilities entered her head that could have caused it.
"She's lost her baby"
Brock and Ash turned to stare at her, Brock feeling the same unnatural chill but Ash was left clueless about what she was saying as he had yet to see the argument in play behind him. His immediate thought was that James had killed it in the middle of a heated row by pushing her or something, as he was far more violent than when they were acquainted with him. It still didn't explain why they were hanging around the old entrance to the Viridian Gym, which they knew to be the entrance to Team Rocket Headquarters, when from what they'd learnt a week ago neither had any intentions to be in its realms of employment again. They were both able to piece together what happened from common sense, what was exchanged and the history she'd told Brock. The only problem they had was wondering what she was doing there in the first place if she had been raped by Giovanni.
"Please don't leave, let's talk things out. I know I have no reason to expect you to listen but I really need to have you here with me, for Alyssandra's sake"
"She's dead"
"Do you really think that I could forget that? I was the one who went through the miscarriage in the first place. Why aren't you grieving? You mustn't be, otherwise you wouldn't have come out with such a callous remark as that"
"What callous remark? The kid's dead, that's a fact, and there's no reason for me to phrase anything nicely because nothing can bring her back. Luckily"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You didn't want her?"
"Can't you understand what I'm saying? Is the dripping of his spunk falling out of you too loud? I'd be stuck with you forever if that were the case, and since she died it means that that burden has disappeared from my shoulders"
"I have nothing now, not even the dream that you at some point wished to raise her with me. You bastard"
"If I'm such a bastard why do you want to see me? And don't forget your trash; I'm not looking after your pokémon so you're not left with nothing at all"
Anthony focused the weapon, knowing that this time he had a perfect angle and that if he pulled it off quickly enough he could shoot James as well, as it would not be interfering with the contract if he successfully completed it first. He made a silent prayer to his god, feeling like this was a life or death situation for him if there was even a slight warp in the plans. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tightened his grip on the trigger. Disaster struck.
The bullet failed to waver as it followed its course, dead on target as the boy's security training came into play. It was to be his first kill, not an achievement he would be proud of, but it wasn't the fraught woman it collided with. What happened next acted as an eye-opener to both halves of the married couple as to the ferocity involved in their petty argument. The bullet ricocheted off one of the spherical objects, and it exploded on contact, a blinding light accompanying it with a sickening shriek from the creature trapped within. They both forgot their row instantaneously and turned whiter than either had been during their endurances, both miscarriage and throat assault alike. The crowd screamed at the sound of the gunshot and dissolved almost as soon as it happened, without hanging around to find out what the outcome would be like. Jessie stood shaking in shock, searching for where the attack could have originated, seeing nothing. James' search proved more productive though, as he saw something move very quickly from the top of one of the buildings but his poor vision stopped him from being able to distinguish what gender they were, never mind being able to recognise them as someone in particular. Then another terrible realisation struck him; he'd thrown too many in his wife's direction, and they were still uncertain about which pokémon had reached the end of its life prematurely.
"Jessie"
No response. His throat was glaringly dry and it hurt him to even say her name like that, worsened by the argument they'd both engaged in just a few moments before then. Although it brought on more excruciating pain for him, he shouted her name as loudly as possible to grasp her attention. She jumped as he snapped her out of her disaster-induced shock and began crying, unaware of how much like a prostitute she looked like as the robe was not fitting her as it should. Despite what every instinct inside him screamed for him not to do, he defied them and went over to her and held her in his strong embrace. She clutched his shoulder and wept uncontrollably into his neck, knowing that he was only doing it because he felt sorry for her and not because he was in love with her and hated to see her depressed like this. She derived comfort from his scent and touch like she usually did, unaware how he was secretly wishing she'd let go as she was stirring back feelings that he knew within his soul he didn't want to feel again, not after her deep betrayal. He picked up the spherical objects from the street and pressed the release buttons, feeling a pang of self-hatred when he realised it was his oldest pet that suffered the fatality.
A sweeping chill raided any warmth he felt inside, knowing that his faithful dog-type had, without a shred of intent on his behalf, been sacrificed in an action that had saved his wife's life. Was he glad that her death was momentarily deterred? Yes. For it to happen at Growlie's expense? No. Did this change anything about how he felt about Jessie? He was unable to receive the answer to that question no matter how many times he asked himself or how often he rephrased it. He hated her clinging to him, but he knew that if he didn't have her touch, no matter how vile it may seem at the time, there would be nobody who knew what he was going through, as nobody else had seen the deceased creature. Now it was impossible, and he allowed himself a lasting look at the smouldering shards of technology, feeling hollow at knowing how destroying something so small could carry on the chain reaction until it destroyed his life and made him uncertain about what he felt and believed.
She gasped and jolted backwards as she made the embrace unintentionally tighter with her partner, and the slight pressure caused the slogan on her chest to bleed lightly again. She clutched at it and continued to whimper there, attracting James' attention away from his introspective thoughts. He opened her robe slightly, not needing to move it all that much which annoyed him, feeling like she was a far cry from the woman he believed he's spent the best part of his life fantasising over. He read the lettering with a great deal of difficulty as it was too close to his eyes compared to when he scanned the rooftops a few moments beforehand, the focus range creating unwanted troubles in his eyes when he knew he would not have felt it a few months ago. He felt a deep curdling hatred welling up within his body, making him feel like there must be some feelings towards his wife remaining in his heart otherwise he wouldn't feel this angry at his old tormenter's return. It was extremely unlikely he'd feel this resentment towards a complete stranger, which led him to believe maybe his supposed hatred of his wife was skin deep.
She felt stunned by the expression etched within his face, as it showed a nasty side she would never have expected from him, it was worse than any emotion she'd ever witnessed in his face, as no matter when she'd seen him angry at any point, she'd never seen anything close to the resentment he now reflected in his face. Not even when she'd witnessed him knowing she'd turned to Giovanni unwillingly or when she'd seen him come face to face with the person who slaughtered his pokémon.
Inside the building, Lindsey recomposed her cool demeanour and headed towards her boss' office, deciding to use the fear-induced adrenaline at seeing James to her advantage and whilst the guards' attention was diluted. She shut the office door and strode over towards him, noting with a vindictive sense of glee his near-blindness as his face was contorted with pain to an unpredictable extent. She stepped over the slumped creature to walk over to its master, collecting the stiletto from the inside of her boot in her gait. He looked upwards and a brief glimmer of hope appeared across his face, to be dashed when he opened his mouth and asked where his other recent bed partner was, igniting Lindsey's anger. That combined with covetousness, rage, and over all annoyance at Anthony's incomplete job caused the deadly weapon to spring into action, making her glad that she'd planned this manoeuvre for a few days now, and when the computer had been momentarily in her control, she'd taken precautions to ensure her jealousy would reap some rewards from this. He didn't even receive enough mercy to scream for a moment to vent his terror.
The smouldering tension welling up reached an undecided climax within the male, and he followed it as he felt would be best. He pushed his unfaithful wife away from him and grabbed her very roughly at the elbow, dragging her more than anything else in the direction he'd come from initially. She started to voice her opinions but he ignored them, if he heard them in the first place. She cared for her modesty and struggled to keep the pace as she attempted to fold over the material to conceal her body from the eyes of the public. She faltered, leading to her stumbling as she failed to match his strides and she landed extremely heavily on her knees. His shoulder smarted as the pressure jolted it out of its usual location but didn't take his annoyance out on her this time, feeling guilty by her hurt expression. He assisted her up in a slightly gentler manner but his grip was still too firm for her liking. He lessened the speed at which he travelled to accommodate hers, but if he heard any of her almost muted attempts at a conversation, he chose to ignore them.
He stopped dead in his tracks when Ash stood in front of him, with his travelling comrades standing right behind him with a flustered look on both of their faces. Misty was like that because she felt humiliated at intruding in such an obviously private matter, and upset with herself for perpetually following someone she despised. She was still feeling stung from the attitude James had possessed when she'd spoken to him in the hospital. Brock's red face was caused by trying to draw his gaze away from Jessie's skin owing to her poor choice of attire; normally he would have continued to stare but his conscience told him it was a bad idea when he'd learnt of her rough year. He wished Ash hadn't crossed the road to interfere, as he should have learnt his lesson from past experiences not to approach James when he wasn't in a sociable mood such as now. The eldest male narrowed his eyes in distaste when the obstruction in his path failed to disappear immediately, a sure-fire alert to all but one of the others present that it signified imminent danger.
"Move"
"Hey that's not very polite, what are--?"
"I don't give two flying f--"
"James, be nice"
"I really couldn't care less what you've got to say either Jessica, so don't interrupt like a good little slut. Move it now, before I really lose my temper as my patience is slipping out of my grasp by each passing second"
"What sort of gratitude is this?"
"Gratitude? What for? You sticking your pointed nose in where it doesn't belong, which incidentally is my business which doesn't concern you, yet again may I add?"
"Watch your mouth, I meant gratitude for making sure your wedding ran smoothly"
Jessie suppressed a cry of pain which she really wanted to release as his grip tightened on her arm. His eyes were narrow slits, rivalling those belonging to the youth standing behind Ash, and she felt his rage expanding in his body, his muscles feeling dangerously taut. Her lip involuntarily quivered as more tears welled in her eyes but made sure she remained silent; she disliked the idea of attracting attention towards herself when he was this furious, never mind the unnameable rage he felt against her at the present. She also knew attempting to call any such attack as unprovoked would be a blatant lie. She felt he could do his worst and she'd still deserve more—how had she been so stupid?
"Explain yourself, now. Just be glad I'm offering you that chance, as trust me, I'm very close to taking it back if you don't hurry up"
"I arranged something for your marriage which you'd failed to think about, and it made it more complete didn't it?"
James' patience soon became a thing of a past. He lifted Ash up by his collar and pressed him roughly against the side of the building by which they stood, Jessie nursing her stinging arm when the vice-like grip disappeared. Ash had never known fear like he did then; even with gravity making his toes point downwards, they still failed to reach the ground. The heavy bruising on James' fists became apparent to the group, created in his fury with the feline when he'd appeared when talking to the sibling of one of those present. The skin covering said knuckles were far from insipid, a glowing white stealing the limelight away from the deep pigments of which the bruises consisted, the skin incredibly taut. The boy whimpered, feeling a warmth moisten the inside of his trousers, not embarrassed but afraid, understanding his pokémon could try to save him, doubting the male would even count their vicious attacks as so much as a tingle. The boy was right, as the man did not feel anything when Pikachu jumped in to save its master, not understanding what was going on, not really.
"Did you think it was funny? We'd thank you for the addition? I've spent so long staying away from…that…"
"Surely you can't resent them that much? Surely their presence was not as terrible as you're making it out to be?"
"How can you speak so freely on matters of which you know nothing? I sincerely doubt you've experienced a childhood anything like mine, even the sight of anything that acts as a reminder to it fills me with fear, knowing what I could turn back to if life turns out any worse. Do you have any idea how you ruined my first proper night with that tramp behind me?"
She didn't defend herself against his verbal abuse, not seeing how she could. Not after how she'd betrayed him so needlessly. She felt moisture of her own emerging from her crotch but said nothing, crouching down to relieve the pain a bit. Brock moved his head further back, finding something more interesting than the prospect of his friend being beaten up by means of her body, the sides of the robe failing in the duty of concealing her. As he caught sight of the ugly stitching and the blood trickling out of her, over the surgical thread, a change occurred in Brock. For the first time since infancy, he wasn't horny.
"I…I—I'm sorry, really I am, I didn't see what harm would come of it, honestly"
"How could you not? How did you obtain them in the first place?"
"Obtain what, invitations? We didn't, we don't even know where it took place, and I mean that. Guys, help me"
"Don't act naïve with me; you know full well that's not what I was referring to. Why you would merit an invitation is beyond me for all the stunts you've pulled"
"I'm not acting anything, all I did was tell your mother when I bumped into her, I never knew it would be that terrible for her to attend, I thought you'd resolved all that months ago"
James released Ash, not noticing him crumple awkwardly to the floor as the tension was released, the dangerously low tone he'd adopted forgotten as a thousand fears flooded his memory. His face paled to a more ashen hue as his fists reclaimed their normal colour but with a crimson tinge as the stretched skin resumed its flexibility, and suddenly Jessie worked out what his harsh realisations were.
"She knows?"
"Yes, wasn't she there? Isn't that why you just launched an attack on me?"
"No, I had no idea…did she give any tell-tale signs of how she felt? No, of course she wouldn't, not to you…Just when things couldn't get any worse"
"What did you think he'd done?"
"Someone thought it'd be funny to spike my drink and from what you said, it sounded like you'd done it. I apologise, though I'm still not happy with you divulging information that wasn't yours to share"
"Why would anyone want to spike your drink? Did they think it was Jessie's?"
"No, they knew it was mine, as she was so pregnant nobody would assume an alcoholic drink to be hers"
"Why? You're male"
"Would you like a medal for your extensive observation?"
"You know what I mean; it's usually women that get their stuff spiked. Isn't it?"
"Like with me"
It was the first time Jessie had properly spoken, and the pre-adolescents noted the haunted sound to her voice. She was still crouching, feeling unwanted memories of Giovanni and Mondo raping her when she was too frightened and helpless to be competent enough to do anything about the relentless attacks. But that night was nowhere near as horrific as the previous week in her life. James was also silent, not out of consideration for what his wife went through, but because he wondered where his mother was, and what she would do if she discovered them. Maybe she already had but was waiting for the correct time to initiate her attack, as the last time she'd launched it her own assassins had ruined a portion of her house and wanted nothing more to mar her claim to excellence in her style.
"Was a man after you?"
"No, but if this goes anywhere, I will hunt you out. I had an incredibly poor time growing up, not from going to a burdening life of riches to nothing. I was in the wrong place at the worst possible moment, and I became acquainted with a hell of a lot of illegal substances in this city. It is for this reason that I request you not to tell anyone I'm here, even if you think them to be friends and especially if they're relatives of mine. You'll learn in due time that the only person you can depend upon is yourself, no matter how much trust you bury in other people"
This particular comment hit Jessie hard, even though he wasn't referring to her on this particular occasion, made harder by the fact that he turned away from them and resumed his walk to the tavern. Alone. She struggled regaining her feet but Misty aided her, Brock suddenly very withdrawn and quiet, not overly sure he liked women anymore—not that he liked men—after seeing the horrendous damage on her body. Ash couldn't move, still in a soiled lump on the concrete. Jessie staggered backwards when the other girl pressed on her upper arms, still overly tender from their abuse at James' tight grip, then suppressed a vicious curse when she walked on a piece of broken glass, her feet still not healed from her near-marathon sprint the day before when she'd woken in the soaking alley. There was still a fairly light drizzle, but she failed to notice it, having much more important things in life to worry about than the worst frizzy hair from the damp atmosphere.
James stopped when he released himself from his introspective thoughts, remembering he'd been escorting her back with him because in spite of his intense anger with her, seeing harm come to her was not something he desired. He didn't turn around until he heard the familiar whimpering behind him, and when he did, he saw Misty looking at him like an injured creature would to a predator. He remembered his brusque manner the last time their paths had crossed, and as she released her hold on the unfortunate mother, he asked her to stop for a minute as she hastily turned away. She reluctantly obliged and he apologised heartily, explaining that he'd been going through a rough time, told her about Jessie Belle and said that in no circumstances should he have let other matters make him so inhuman towards other people. He gave her a tight embrace and told her no matter what happened in life, she wasn't to be the person to deal with anyone's anger, and if she was unhappy to alter what made her so. She thanked him and left them with a great weight lifted off her shoulders. She didn't know it was the last time she'd see the two of them together ever again. His nasty attitude returned as he aided Jessie back at a slightly slower pace than it had been before; making her spit out that he had more decency for a scrawny kid than he did for the woman who lost his child. He took a moment to decide on the least callous remark from the selection that leapt to his throat, saying it was different. She let out a hurtful 'How?' whilst secretly fearing the answer as she felt it would have a connection with her infidelity yet again, genuinely shocked by his answer.
"Didn't you see the fading scars on her wrists saying 'I want to die'?"
Giovanni awoke with a deep sense of foreboding flooding his system, manacled to a wall by both his wrists and ankles in a grotty cell in a disused part of the headquarters of his own organisation, barely able to see anything as he squinted into the dark. A sudden flash of bright light stung his eyes as the main luminous strip lighting was flashed on unexpectedly, and he would have voiced what he truly felt were it not for his increased fear. It was not Lindsey who paced into the cramped room, however; it was her former boyfriend.
Anthony strode towards the frightened shell of a human, inwardly marvelling at his unique luck to have won back the woman he yearned for constantly, and to revel in the fallen leader's misery. Just for good measure he struck the older man's face with a bunched fist, to hear him beg for mercy, an act he would never before have thought possible. He never imagined that the man he'd feared for so long would turn into a coward that made a sickly infant appear as strong as an iron-willed dictator with the world within its fist. Revenge can be so sweet, he thought to himself as he vented his anger, unaware that Lindsey still had at least one more card up her well-planned-out proverbial sleeve.
Elora was horrified, jealous and concerned simultaneously when she saw James arriving at the pub with his wife, as it made her uncertain what the situation was between them, and where she stood with regards the male. He left them alone in the staff lounge almost instantly, claiming he needed to relieve himself when in reality he needed a few minutes to himself to come to the same conclusion Elora wished for, wondering to what extent was he willing to show Jessie how deeply her betrayal had hurt him. Above all, he didn't want to catch Elora in the crossfire as she'd always been a very good friend to him from when he'd started drinking in there from the early days of his career as a Rocket. How much life can change, he bitterly thought, pondering the heart-slaughtering ordeals he'd faced over the years. There were times as not really believing in gods and such he assumed he was nothing other than a marionette being controlled with an irresponsible puppeteer who chopped at the vital strings which supported him whenever they felt his life was beginning to get back on track.
When he returned to the room, Jessie was wearing some of Elora's clothes, the chest uncomfortably tight as it pressed viciously onto the slogan her skin adorned, but she greatly preferred this discomfort when compared to what she'd been wearing previously. The look visible in his eyes made it appear as if he accused her of changing just for the sake of showing off her body to someone else. The cold penetration from his eyes made her feel more hollow, and she dejectedly looked away as he pulled the landlady closer to his body for a deep kiss where their hands wandered by a will of their own, Elora not particularly caring that he was only acting like this to hurt his wife as she enjoyed the process too much. She just didn't want to be on the receiving end of his distaste whenever he tired of playing that game with Jessie. Jessie turned around and tried to absorb the beauty of the room in which they stood, trying for anything to remove the tears that welled up in her eyes and the silent sobs which were threatening to escape from the grasp of her self-control to wrack her body mercilessly.
His mother was incredibly displeased at the lengthy journey back to Viridian, having watched her only child board a bus in the late afternoon the day before. She clutched the piece of paper tightly against her heart, feeling as if something was about to happen that would allow her to repay him for the eternal shame she'd suffered from because of him and his petty actions. A cruel smirk flickered across her lips, whilst her eyes were heavy with sorrow as she realised what a demon she'd become, unable to find her true inner self anymore. Her trusted chauffeur, Hopkins, looked briefly in the mirror, seeing her torment and since he'd been working in her service for long enough, he was the only one able to question her when she was upset. He asked her if anything was wrong without being afraid of any repercussions her anger may have on his safety—he was the only one in her workforce that knew of the truth surrounding James' birth and of her bitter resentment springing from a childhood not even her late husband had known about. She looked up and noticed he'd respected her privacy enough to avert his gaze back to the road, driving quickly but carefully. She slid the paper into her fan's third fold, into the empty pocket where the dart that brought about Tyra's demise had been stored, its replacement awaiting her at her mansion. She replied affirmatively, but added she did not wish to discuss it further at present. He acknowledged her wishes and remained silent for a moment, allowing her a few minutes to gather her thoughts and recompose herself to her usual state of being. He knew something was troubling her greatly, but it was only the absolutely overwhelming problems in her life that she spoke about to him, the other ones she told him when they were of relatively little importance to her anymore. He knew not a lonelier or more troubled human with her astounding strength of mind.
The Silver Bullet, Viridian City 21:14 hours…
Jessie felt more than a little cheesed off as she sat opposite James in the staff's lounge of the pub, annoyed not because he looked more handsome than ever in his present attire, but because he was making this special effort for another woman. He intended to spend the night out with Elora, and what was on the agenda for after the nightclub was something she didn't even want to begin thinking about, hating him for making her feel this low for her actions then witnessing him blatantly fool around with someone else literally in front of her eyes. The way he looked at her greatly differed from time to time. Sometimes it was similar to how he was when they'd hooked up on their very first occasion, yet at other times, he saw her as an unfaithful lover that held not a bit of his affection, not even as a friend. His tones also varied, sometimes friendly but unfortunately more often than not it was a cruel ice-beset manner. Part of her longed to have stayed in Team Rocket Headquarters, feeling at least there was a man who appreciated her, even if it was only in a depraved approach, the other part glad to be away from there as at least she wasn't whoring herself for nothing. Part of her wished she'd never woken up from lying in the rain, wanting to avoid this eternal punishment; if her husband eventually forgave her which was unlikely to happen any time soon, she was never going to be capable of forgiving herself for her actions.
She subconsciously touched her stomach as another agonising jolt rippled through her, a product of an unhealthy miscarriage and repeated sexual assault almost immediately afterwards. James noticed her do this but was unable to bring himself to ask how she was, as he couldn't see how she'd deserve sympathy, although he personally was finding the miscarriage very difficult to cope with. He was just as upset as she was, but didn't want to bring it up as he didn't feel it a fitting conversational topic as well as not wishing to get into a profound discussion with her just yet. He disliked toying with her heart the way he was from switching between considerate and cold every so often, but for the moment he felt it best not to settle with one until he'd reached his final decision on how he wished to continue life, and whether or not she'd play a part in it.
Elora broke the mental conflicts as she walked into the room in a stunning black dress, enhancing her figure, but doing so elegantly. She picked up a couple of items and put them into her handbag as James stood up to meet her. She called goodbye and left with her elbow linked with his. Jessie's emotions got the better of her and she burst into a fit of tears when she heard a flirtatious comment her husband made to Elora. When the sobs had finally ceased wracking her body, she noticed James' wallet on the cushion of the armchair where he'd been sitting. She curiously went over to it and pored over his cards and things, feeling like she was becoming accustomed to the man she knew, not the man he presently was. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the first of the photographs, remembering that once he'd cherished the first one he'd taken her in this slot. Now a different picture stole her place, a fact that neither she nor the male who owned it had been aware of, Meowth being the guilty culprit when he'd swapped them the day he'd ruined the bank cards.
The offensive woman wore very little, and the material was not the most effective at concealing her body. She ripped it out of its home and tore the plastic in her fury, staring at the picture, trying to figure out who she was reminding her of, then a cold wave shook her system as she read the inscription on the back of it. 'Great having you around my bed for Christmas, hope this warms up your New Year, Sash xxx.' His writing of two numbers told her it was two years old, making it at a time when he'd been working with her and they'd spent that year together. It was the year they'd attempted to sabotage the holiday over a poor experience of her childhood which had simply been a misunderstanding, how was she meant to know what to do when the pokémon had stolen the only thing her mother had bequeathed to her before she'd gone to the mountains. She gave herself a harsh wake-up to reality when she remembered he'd spoilt that lie she'd been fed by telling her the terrible truth on their honeymoon. She hated him more for keeping a picture of a blood relative, feeling sickened that the only way she thought she knew the person was because there must be some feature similar between the woman and the now highly disgraced male. All the times he'd sworn she was his first despite his bad past, was it true or did he count her as her first outside his family?
She failed to notice another presence enter the room. He was starting to light up a cigarette as he went on his break but noticed the other occupant looked upset, so he sat behind her and rubbed her back, trying to make her feel better as he was always awkward when someone cried near him, at least this way he might be able to prevent that outcome. She jerked and looked behind her, half-recognising him but not knowing from where or how, and she apologised for interrupting his five minutes of peace. He brushed a couple of wisps of hair out of her eyes and soothed her, seeing this as a new way of annoying the boss, no matter how inadvertently. She swallowed a little nervously, knowing the proximity of another person was intimidating when she considered she was trying to prove herself as worth something more to other people, rather than someone known for a quick fumble every so often. He leant forwards to kiss her but then altered his decision, opting for her forehead instead of her lips. He apologised, saying he had to return to the bar as they were understaffed with their employer disappearing without arranging for anyone to cover their shift on their worst night of the working week, excluding weekends in this sentence. It was the only excuse for leaving her that he thought may have worked, and from her nod, it seemed to have worked; obviously not having heard Elora's cheers that it was her designated night off earlier. This was going to be just too easy…
Elora led James down an area he was only vaguely familiar with; not knowing where the club they were heading to was located. He wasn't especially worried at anyone recognising them, as this was an area the narcotics usually avoided, or at least they did when he'd been in that world. With all the surrounding police and burly bouncers, there was little chance of an unwanted run-in. They stood before the entrance to a certain place called the 'Serpentine Seductress', and instead of the humiliating process of providing identification when neither had any with them, the doorman waved them through, obviously knowing Elora well. He was young and fairly good looking, so James forced out all thoughts gathering in his head which defined what sense of knowing Elora was involved. They strode under the decorative female in the passageway into the club, and James couldn't resist looking under the real material overhead as he neared the beautiful painted woman's nether regions. He smiled broadly in good humour as he saw a head of an Arbok painted there instead, with protruding metal fangs that glistened in the light, to add an even more venomous effect. He squeezed Elora's hand as she held his, directing him away from the main route the crowd was taking.
The short passageway stopped, three rooms breaking the monotony of the blank walls. She took her set of keys from her handbag and selected one from the chain, and turned it in the lock of the door on the extreme right. He followed her in, her not answering his question whether or not what she was doing was completely legal. He looked around the room in admiration, learning instantly where the 'seductress' part of the title came into play. Everything in the room was inviting, from the glowing fire with thick, plush red carpeting filling the room, the decorations on the walls and ceiling turning him on. She pushed him backwards and he fell against the white couch, the touch of it sensuous and driving his libido up even higher.
Afterwards he felt more drained than usual, positive the surroundings had made it more like acting out a fantasy for him. She cleaned up the residue from the material before it sank in, still fairly unfamiliar with there being such a mess but at the same time feeling it was more than worth it. She tossed the tissue in the fire and sat before it, not cold but basking in its friendliness. He sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her, savouring the feeling of her skin against his torso, half-acknowledging her starting to take a bag of tobacco out of her bag to roll a cigarette. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent as he rested on her neck, enjoying the feeling of not having a worry in the world for the first true time in ages. She moved her shoulder as she took the paper in her hand and evened up the tobacco in it, and he saw it was her second as there was another one ready.
She turned and kissed him before licking it to seal it, asking if he'd like anything else in it. He didn't properly understand what she meant by this, and a cool sensation swept his body as she showed him a packet of cocaine in her other hand. Part of him wanted to run away from her, as she didn't know about him spending most of his life worried he'd become addicted again. The winning side of his conscience, however, was the one that thought him taking the white powder in his fingers and added a thick amount to his cigarette, used to how he'd smoke them in the past. She proffered her lighter and they both lit up from the same flame, both enjoying the intimate surroundings, one mortally afraid they might enjoy something else overly so when they'd grown accustomed to living without it. He learnt that she partially owned the building and the woman at the entrance was based on her, as she'd been the model. He was enthralled by everything she said, loving the feeling of floating as he continued to get high all night, sometimes snorting the powder as was the typical method of consumption so he didn't hurt his throat too much with the smoke. He was contemplating whether or not to indulge in another when he felt a ripple run through him. She asked was he cold and he shook his head, knowing this to signify a bad omen when it occurred, usually for Jessie, from what he'd experienced in the last week.
He stood up and apologised, finding it hard to move right when his vision was poor as the light in the room was dependent on the fire which was presently very low and the drugs made his head feel light and he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. He started getting dressed as quickly as he was physically able with his hindrances, making sure he got to Jessie in case it was something terribly wrong with her stitches again. Elora joined him and pulled on her clothes quicker than he as she'd worn fewer layers, thinking the night wasn't turning out entirely how she'd planned it. He felt another slightly weaker ripple and he reapplied his concentration to where it should be. He kissed her briefly and then he realised it wasn't Jessie he should've feared for.
The door creaked open ominously…