I am a Shedinja. You know, a Pokemon said to steal the souls of those that stare into the crevice on my back.
Yeah, I suspected that happened to my trainer. I am bound to him through an ordinary Pokeball, unaware of anything happening outside of this small sphere. It is dark and cramped in here but I don't mind. It leaves me with a lot of time to think.
I wonder how long it has been since I've seen light.
I wonder if my trainer knew about me. Did he prepare for my creation, or was my entrance into life just a happy coincidence? It certainly didn't seem happy.
I wonder why I remember things as a Nincada.
There was a bell-shaped jar, filled three-quarters with damp leaves and dirt. There was a familiar scent of the forest undergrowth as I skittered across this artificial habitat. My feelers were waving wildly to sense this new environment, and there was a hand that waved back. His hand.
He seemed nice. Not once did I return to a Pokeball, but I always had to stay in the jar. It was safe and secure, where the predators of the woods were nonexistent. Food was always abundant. They weren't the roots that I normally ate, but tiny blue circles that he unwrapped before placing them into the jar. They made me feel stronger when I ate them. Under his watchful eye, I grew bigger and bigger every day.
He was there by my jar when the exoskeleton split open. A pair of wings pushed themselves out from the crack, wet and crumpled. My head followed suit, along with a sleek black abdomen and shiny carapace. Two powerful forearms pried the rest of me out of the moult, shaking off any last bits that stubbornly clung to my new form. Gone was the dull pre-evolution I used to be. I was vibrant! I was free! I was—
I was laying on the leaf litter, feeling unusually deflated. My body felt limp and immobile. Where was I? How… How did I get here?
A Ninjask was clinging to the side of a glass jar, spreading its soft wings out to dry. Had I come from that? There was a scraping sound as the lid was opened, and a pair of tweezers reached inside. Slowly, I was extricated from one unknown place and carried to another. It looked like a workbench, not too far from the table my jar was on. Dropped onto a large Petri dish, there was nothing I could do but wait, evening the large device pointed at me. My reflection was clear in its black lens, and the red light in its side blinked continuously.
"Hello viewers, and welcome back to another episode of Pokephenomemon, where I... Well, the description says it all." He sounded close, but I couldn't turn my head to see where. What was going on?
"My Nincada has finally evolved just a few minutes ago, through moulting. Let me switch cameras."
A bright spotlight shone down on me from above. The sensation of being watched intensified tenfold.
"Now, this may just seem like shed skin, like all the previous times the Nincada undergoes ecdysis. Under normal circumstances, yes. But what about an exoskeleton still attached to a Pokemon at the time of evolution? I hypothesise this could lead to the creation of an entirely new Pokemon."
"Notice how the moult is unnaturally hard." A sharp wooden point was dragged against my back, jabbing quite forcefully. "It's not flimsy or collapsing in on itself like previous moults. It's even starting to turn brown and opaque." He tapped on me again, listening to the sounds that echoed beneath my skin.
"Hollow." The word barely left his lips before it was interrupted by a long yawn.
"Alright, viewers. I'm going to go grab a quick cup of coffee. Won't take five minutes. Keep an eye on the moult, okay?"
The sound of footsteps receded, the rhythmic click-clacking of metal soles on a concrete floor fading into the unseeable distance. I was starting to feel the strength returning to this body, and every bit of stiffness that accompanied the control of limbs. Wiggling the claws that were held against my thorax, I wondered if they'd ever be strong like the Ninjask's. It seemed to have quietened down, clinging to the smooth glass sides of the jar.
I know that human—my trainer?—mentioned it before, but only now did I feel the increasing emptiness within, like something was slowly hollowing out my insides. My body seemed to grow lighter, along with the sensation of something passing through the split in my back. A bright light filled my peripheral vision, and the two horns atop my head started to tingle.
The world suddenly righted itself as I was dragged upwards by an invisible force. I hung helplessly in the air for seconds, spinning dizzily until everything just… clicked. Perhaps it was some innate instinct or just sheer luck, but I knew how to move my body.
There was no reason to zip around the room recklessly. Best not to lose the life I had somehow gained. I was in a grey room, floating high above the device—a camera, he called it—that pointed down at the petri dish.
"Woah!" I turned to see him stumble backwards, grabbing the edge of the doorway to prevent spilling his cup of coffee. I remained still as he ran across the room, turning in place to watch him fumble with a microphone, pointing a camera in my direction.
"This is extraordinary, chat! Once again, my hypothesis has been proven correct! Now it's time to examine this new specimen." I made sure to face him as he approached, the wooden splint in his fingers twitching with uncontrollable excitement. He pressed and prodded every part I allowed him to reach, my hollow eye sockets, the sharp ridges on my head, the inflexible wingtips jutting out from my shell. Any attempts to reach my back and I zipped away. The hole there wanted to be left alone.
"No signs of spiracles or mandibles are observed on this new Pokemon, so there's no evidence that this thing eats or breathes. The fact that this thing flies without any wing movement, and that white halo… this could be a new ghost-type! A reanimation of the shed skin of a Ninjask… What about the name… Shed… ninjask? Shed ninja? Shedinja? Yeah, chat, Shedinja sounds good!" His gaze flitted between me and the glowing screens as he rummaged around in multiple coat pockets, eventually producing a red and white ball.
"You saw it here first, viewers. I, Professor Socotra, am the first person to document and name the alternate evolution of Nincada, Shedinja!"
The Ninjask's wings were a blur as it pushed against the jar, but its efforts had no effect.
I felt the ball, and was stunned by a disorienting flash of red light that sucked me into a void. There was no time to find my bearings before I exited the darkness again with another burst of red light, straight into the hands of that person. Struggling was not an option as his fingers closed around my midsection, turning me over to the place I wanted no one to see.
"Now that I've successfully captured Shedinja, it's time to find out what you guys had been pointing out to me for the past five minutes." He shifted his hand, but not enough for me to break free.
"As expected, there's a hole in its back where the skin split, and in here… there's nothing? Let me shine my torchlight around and… there's nothing, chat! No organs or spiritual energy! This Pokemon is just an empty hus—"
On that day, hundreds of people would swear that they saw him peek into the hole for a closer look. His eyes would roll back, his body collapse onto the floor, convulsing as he repeated a single phrase.
"Stop… no… soul…"
I assume that was where the rumour originated. Nasty, but accurate gossip spread around by viewers on Pokephenomenon after this episode. They would comment on his newest streams, blaming his actions and the reasons he had 'changed' on me.
But how was I supposed to know all this? I was back in the darkness that was a Pokeball, unaware that I had caused the unfair treatment of my entire species. Did you know some trainers duct tape the holes in our backs? At least, that's what I heard from talking to others like you.
"Where did I put it… ah. There you are." The red light barely faded before I heard his voice, unchanged after this unknown amount of time. It was smooth yet sharp, its bladed words cutting through my strong defences.
"You. You're my new lab lackey now. Do as I say… or else." There was no elaboration on that threat, nor was there any need for one. Sweeping dishevelled hair out of his eyes, he strode out of the room, a crooked finger the only command given for me to follow.
And that's where I am now. Bringing you to your inevitable fate under his experiments.
The Pikachu paced in the wheeled cage I was pushing her in. I could see the sparks flying from her cheeks as she pushed against the wooden bars. It's no use, I told her. Each cage he makes, no matter how simple, was created for the sole purpose of effectively containing the Pokemon it was meant for. I've seen enough fruitless attempts to know that much.
"You sure are chatty for having no mouth, huh?" she snapped at me.
Sorry. It's been so long since I've talked to someone alive. He's been reusing Pokemon for the past few streams. And I'm sorry too for what he's going to do to you. If it's any consolation, everything may be over quickly.
"What- what do you mean? What is he—"
"Welcome back, viewers, to Pokephenomenon!" His voice was amplified by the small room, and all other forms of sound faded into the background. His ear-to-ear grin facing the camera as his hand closed around the cage I had just carted in, swatting me to a corner of his 'lab'.
"I am Professor Socotra, and for today's episode…" Pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, he grabbed the Pikachu, transferring its squirming body into a glass cylinder with a metal base. Crocodile clips were hooked up to the conductive surface, black and red wires snaking underneath the table.
"...let's see how much electricity a Pikachu's pouches can store!" I turned away as he pushed a lever, the whirs of a power source drowning out the first signs of high-pitched screams.
To set the record straight…
No. I did not take his soul.
It was gone a long time ago.