Series: Pokemon
Genre: Mysery/Horror
Author:
Summary: Sometimes a game is not what it seems, and everything that it isn't.
Disclaimer: I don't own pokèmon or any of its associated trademarks, blah blah blah pleasedon'tsueme.
She stood before a battered body, one oozing blood from countless scrapes, one with bruises blooming and purification rank on its breath.
She stood before a broken boy, one thrust down and mercilessly obliterated until he was no longer suited to her needs and then she cast him aside.
She stood before
Stop, rewind, press play.
She stood before a massive army, or so it seemed; school yard punks, all of them. Fear shivered and crawled down her spine, mind playing, over and over again, the things that she knew they would do.
Hold her down. Touch her. Pain blossoming across her skin like red flowers in snow, and the endless scream of her tortured mind, broken beyond belief.
She stood before them and began to tremble, and the boy who stood buy her side saw it.
He stepped forward.
She stepped back.
And then time began and she watched as the horde set upon him, ravenous for blood, feasting upon his cries as she stood before
Stop. Fast forward. Play.
She stood in the corner of the room, eyes wide, nostrils flaring as they drank in that harsh, acidic medical scent all hospitals seem to bear.
She stood before a boy broken and despondent, held to life buy only the slimmest of threads, marked buy their entry into and out of his veins in thin spider webs, plastic and cold metal gleams.
She stood in that place, and she watched him, anguished soul screaming, demanding that it be her, that she take his place, that she lay there in that nest of threads, that she take up pain that was more than she could bear…
She stood, and walked over to the bed. Then she climbed onto it with deliberate care, and nestled against his chest. A little smile curved her mouth, as she stood before
Rewind, stop, pause, fast forward and play.
She stood in a heap of bodies, the quicksilver gleam of a hidden weapon not-so hidden flashing about her, and she trembled, over come buy a sudden need.
She stood and time slowed to halt, and long nails grew sharp.
She stood, watching as he took blow after blow, and a scream tore itself from her throat.
She stood, and time stood still as she leapt forward.
Rewind. Pause. Stop.
Broken doll figures, discarded carelessly, little porcelain faces shattered beyond repair. Little porcelain hearts still pumped, but the eyes, the eyes, those beatific windows to the soul, they where gone.
Pause. Listen. Whisper of time…
Rewind.
"This way. Definitely this way."
She stands up, and tosses him a withering glance.
"Are you kidding? We went that way before, remember?"
A tiny figure squeaks and chuckles in its own obscure language; fingers ruffle its soft fur. He sighs.
"I know, and look where that got us…"
She stands before him, brimming with quicksilver heat, and he freezes, breath caught in his throat.
"Not that way. We go this way,"
She informs him, arms cross over her chest, chin tilted imperiously down the smoking, barren path.
He looks wistfully at the grass strewn with flowers, the trees grown just so, and the faint smudges of smoke on the horizon.
He sighs again, and nudges a small pile of ash.
She stands before him, one eyebrow raised, before her expression softens.
"C'mon. She'll get bored soon enough."
He rakes a hand through that hair of his and grins ruefully, shouldering his burden once more. His companion chirrups, licks a paw, and rubs it over its face.
"Chaa,"
It agrees amiably, before setting its face to the wind.
She stands, and leads the way.
He follows.
Stop. Consider. Play--almost.
Stop again. Bite lip.
Play.
"We'll see how they do this time, hmm?''
Dark, husky voice from the shadows on the throne.
A little girl looks up, pausing in her play, two dolls held in her tiny hands. Off to the side, a bipedal cat-like creature watches through narrowed violet eyes. It shifts its weight, metal clanking musically.
"I suppose,"
She replies, and stands.
The creature shudders, watching the dolls as they fall carelessly to the floor. Then it resumes its study of difference, and the little girl clambers into the lap of the elder teen.
Gigantic doors crack open, bringing to light the brash, bold visage of the challenger.
Teeth flash in the darkness, and the tiny dolls shiver and clank as they roll to the side, forgotten- for the moment, at least.
Sabrina's voice echoes in the gym.
"Ware, trainer- the penalty for loss is not an easy one."
The trainer smirks.
"How hard can entertaining a little kid be, huh?"
Please review and tell me what you think was happening- I'd be intrested to know.