My first attempt at a oneshot. Please review! Good? Bad? I kneed to know!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of it.
Ash stood in front of Misty's limp body. He didn't know whether she was...gone...or not. Just seeing her in the helpless state was...horrible...terrible. He gathered what strength was left in his feeble body and charged at the unsuspecting Team Rocket, pulling something that he never thought...hoped he would have to use out of his jeans pocket. Seemingly just a stump of metal to the group that had always underestimated his emotions.
Never again. Ash said to himself. Never again.
Ash was within a meter of the blue haired one. He gripped the blade and plunged it into James' stomach. His eyes widened and his breaths came short. Finally the man dropped to his knees, blood pouring out of his mouth, and fell backwards. James' dead, lifeless eyes stared into Ash's. A vision that hardened him. A vision Ash would never forget.
Jessie stared at Ash with eyes as wide as the dead one's.
"How...Could..." The woman breathed, barely audible.
Ash stared at her and slowly walked over to her. His grip on the knife loose and light, but stern with power. The young trainer brought his hand up and jabbed it into her chest. Jessie's death was different than that of James. She closed here eyes and looked serene, peaceful almost.
Misty moved ever so slightly, but Ash's senses were highly acute due to the adrenaline pumping through his cold, heartless body. He ran over to the girl and shook her slightly. Gently enough to wake her. It worked. Misty looked into Ash's eyes and saw something different. That jovial, youthful sparkle that lit his eyes up was gone. Only a deep, dark hole of emotionless being. The young water flower looked past her unspoken love and saw the lifeless members of Team Rocket laying motionless on the hard earthen path. Misty's breathing became fast and shallow. She stood up quickly and wavered, trying to catch her balance. She looked at Ash for the last time and sprinted into the forest.
Ash looked down at his hand. That knife. The knife had caused all the pain. He brought it to his face at stared intently at it. Then he brought it back down to his side. It wasn't the knife. He had caused the pain. He had taken those lives. And without time to reconsider his action, He shoved the knife deep into his chest.
Strange. He thought.
It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all. Although there was no pain, there was imminent death. He took one last look at the world. One last look at the world where he was born. One last look at the world that he was about to die. One last thought lingered in his mind as he died…
Was it worth it?
