WARNING: My main victims in this chapter are NC-17 rated. While the chapter itself does not technically contain anything nastier than maybe PG-13, it is disturbing. Read at your own risk!

Chapter 2

In the evening, all the girls sat down on the floor of the big room. Upstairs there were dormitories and bathrooms, as well as the kitchen, but in this room they could sit and chat about their authors and fics.

Now the lights were out, and they were just sitting cosily in groups by the fireplace. The new girls sat together in a circle.

"Meet Ashley Ketchum Waterflower," Ashley said dully, "who got an Articuno for a starter in a ten-sentence-long chapter one."

Another, very pretty girl started sulkily: "Ash is in love with me, I'm the youngest Champion of the century and I have caught all the legendaries – all of which was way too unimportant to actually put it in the fic, so it was rather just briefly mentioned at the beginning."

The others shook their heads.

"My Pokémon battle by screaming their names at each other," moaned a shadow.

"My lines are horribly cheesy," a girl who looked exactly like the female player on FireRed and LeafGreen sighed.

"I'm a Mary-Sue!"

"My author has a horrible taste in clothes!"

"My author spent half of the chapter making me cut myself with a pocket knife!"

"I'm a cardboard cut-out!"

"She made me fall in love with that cocky main character!"

"My personality is so exaggerated!"

After a few more of those shouts, most of the girls seemed to have finished complaining. They looked around for somebody who had yet to tell her story.

"Well, my author was amazingly inspired today, and started writing a fic about this place," Abby explained. "So she wrote about me and Ashley meeting in the first chapter."

All the girls turned to the last one, who, according to Abby, was named Clare. She was a blonde with big blue eyes, an unnatural haircut, dressed in sexy clothes and looked disgustingly perfect in every other aspect. It seemed almost out of character that she had been sitting there quiet, looking down, during the whole conversation. She was now the only one who hadn't told about her first chapter yet.

"How was your chapter?" asked Ashley cautiously.

"Well…" Clare said miserably, still looking down. "It didn't start out so bad; it was decently written and I went to Professor Oak's lab and got a Bulbasaur, but then I started off and…" She finished it in a whisper that nobody could hear.

"Sorry?" a brown-haired, sixteen-year-old girl named Mary inquired. "We didn't get the last part."

"I…" Again Clare found herself unable to finish the sentence loud enough for anybody to hear.

"Come on, just say it!" another girl urged her.

"Fine, I got RAPED!" Clare yelled, tears of anger running down her cheeks. Several of the girls nearby gasped in horror, including Ashley. Abby just looked down.

"By who?" asked a sixteen-year-old girl from another group that was slightly apart from the others.

"My Bulbasaur," Clare sobbed. "And some wild Pokémon that came afterwards…"

"And your age is what?" the sixteen-year-old questioned.

"Thirteen," said Clare shakily.

"Do you think your author has plans for more nasty stuff?"

"Y-yes," Clare whispered. "The… the Author's Note..."

The other girl sighed heavily. "Well, tomorrow you can join us here, and we'll give you all the assistance that we can. Hopefully, you'll get used to it sooner or later, but I'm afraid there's no escaping your fic."

"They're the rapefic characters," Abby whispered to Ashley. "Poor girls, made to be abused, and sometimes even forced to like it."

"That's horrible," Ashley muttered. "Why are they so apart from the rest of us?"

Abby shook her head sadly. "Because they know what you're thinking. They know that they make the rest of us feel guilty. It's to keep us sane."

Ashley sighed. "Is Clare going to be joining them tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Abby quietly. "But they're probably the closest of all the characters here. She's going to be better off with them than with us."

"Maybe," Ashley said. "But still… isn't that horrible?" She cringed, glancing at Clare. She had now curled up on the floor and seemed to be crying.

"Of course it is," Abby said sympathetically. "But some authors just love to torture their characters." She paused. "I trust you haven't read Agony in Pink?"

"No," said Ashley. "I just started to exist today, you know."

"Thought not." Abby shrugged. "Lucky you."

"What is it?" asked Ashley curiously. Abby turned towards her.

"It's character torture of the worst sort. I believe she's still in a mental hospital, crying hysterically all day, moaning and screaming. I personally have no idea who would want to read that stuff, anyway..."

Ashley sat, stunned, and prayed that her author had never heard of Agony in Pink or at the very least had no intentions of imitating it.