You know, I wrote this at midnight in one burst, but weirdly I didn't post it then and there I worked on it, edited it and got it beta'd, then edited it again, got it looked over again and THEN posted it. What a novel idea. Anyway, enjoy- keeping in mind the warning.
Dragonite
Panting, I eye my opponent, Jynx. I'm injured and exhausted but so is she.
"You can do it, Dragonite," my master says, encouraging, not ordering yet, letting me regain my breath. Yet I hear the doubt in her voice, and it saddens me. No, this time I must succeed. "This is his last Pokémon, you can win."
"Ice Beam!" calls my master's opponent. No! There is no time-
My master - trainer, she'd have me call her, but she doesn't understand the true meaning of the term and can't because she isn't a Pokémon – gazes with horror as the Ice Beam strikes me.
I have to stand. I have to stay conscious. I need to fight the growing darkness so I can attack the small Pokémon. Jynx have low physical strength... if I can just...
I feel the life flow into me. I had been unconscious and- no! I had lost the match! I bow my head, though in the red and white ball there is only feeling, no realness. I have failed. Losing is not implicitly shameful yet I can tell this was different. Jynx had been his last Pokémon and my master had been truly desperate. I am flooded by shame.
And then my body becomes real; I am outside the confines of the ball. I gaze down at my master sadly, dejectedly.
"Dragonite," she says softly. "I love you, I truly do, but... I can't keep using you to battle. We've lost the last eight matches- when you haven't fought a weakened Pokémon- and... This isn't goodbye, you'll stay at Pallet Laboratory, and I'll visit you. You just won't travel with me."
I bow my head. I have failed my master.
-----
And now, sixty turns of the sun later, I have long since adjusted to life at the Laboratory. The name conjures up images of confinement but my new home consists of many green acres of land that stretch out far away from the building known as the Laboratory.
Last week I had been sleeping when I woke up to low voices, speaking of taking Pokémon. I was startled fully awake by a flash of red light as a form was sucked into a Poké Ball. There were two men in black clothes, each with a red letter on their shirt. But then the Professor came, riding a Charizard. He said that his Alakazam told him there were intruders and he challenged them to a battle but the two men fled immediately on a pair of Swellow.
My new home is wonderful- we are safe and happy here and although I have been happy to do so, I am not required to fight other Pokémon. It is a kind of peace I would not have craved yet it is nice in its own way.
As the sun sinks in the sky I close my eyes peacefully.
-----
The madness- the MADNESS! What was that fluid- THE MADNESS! Pain- confusion- rage! I roar, spread my wings and fly- anything to escape! The night air surrounds me- rushes past but it does not bring relief. The same black-clothed men are down there with their evil fluid- but no the MADNESS! Escape, must escape.
The delirium takes over my mind. Time passes, as immeasurable as in the red and white ball. Hours? Minutes? Or no time at all? As I return to my sanity, I come to lying on my back in this unfamiliar place. The sun; it is midday now. It was night then. Much time has passed, who knows how long?
Where am I? A forest, but not one I know. The trees... they are different. I have clearly travelled a great number of miles. I fly upward and the mountains that are the edge of my land are on the wrong side. And then the pain again- I fall, fall and narrowly avoid crashing. What is going on? What has that fluid done?
Vision blurring. World growing. I lift an arm- my arm? What is...
-----
The young girl awakens behind a wall of memories blocked forever. She is startled to find herself naked, lying nowhere. Nowhere familiar. She senses that her lack of clothes is somehow different. Maybe she will require them for warmth. She is fine now, though- at least physically. She lies on a bed of fallen leaves.
"Where... am I?" she asks no one. Then she blinks. "Ah!" she shouts. "I... I... speak... human..." Her eyes are wide, fearful. She does not understand how this comes to be.
She experiments. "I... am... a... Dragonite," she says, frowning. That's familiar. But it is wrong. Dragonite does not merely mean Dragonite, Dragonite means me and you and hello and goodbye and every word.
It is at this point that the girl realises fully her form. She is a human, a girl with blonde hair about the age of someone... important... it is like holding water in cupped hands; the image fades. She panics and runs, trying to escape from what she is. Sobbing, she falls to her knees, curls up in a ball and allows her exhaustion to overtake her.
Her mind is active as she sleeps; it drifts, her world but an island in the midst of dark seas of infinity. She longs for the world she has lost. Through her sleep the panic fades yet the confusion and sense of loss continue to pervade her consciousness.
Morning now- her rest is over and she understands not, yet she can focus. She stands, and after an hour of wandering she makes her way out onto a path. She is unfamiliar with paths, yet she understands that they are used for travelling. The path goes both north and south. She decides to head north as she is drawn in that direction for some reason. Familiarity? If only she could remember.
Before long she encounters a male human, travelling along the path. She blinks- how is she supposed to react? He seems just as surprised as she. Eventually he finds his voice.
"Who are you?" he asks, astounded. She swallows nervously.
"I am Dragonite," she says. He blinks.
"Are you... alright?" he asks.
"I... don't know," she admits, and sits down cross-legged, distressed. This causes his eyes to bulge, though she barely registers and does not understand. She does not understand anything. Everything is wrong. She does not understand. She places her head in her hands and cries.
He crouches down next to her and holds her comfortingly. Upon noticing she doesn't mind he adjusts the grip a little, smiling. He then glances up and down the path.
"I think it's about time to set up camp," he says, and he leads her off the path. She wonders what he is thinking.
-----
She lies, staring without seeing, her mind's eye fixed on the memory of his form above hers. It was wrong. She does not understand what just happened, and she didn't like it, but that was not all - it was intrinsically wrong, in a way she simply cannot comprehend.
She is sore and bleeding but that is not what is wrong. She has been... violated. Something horrible had happened to her, all the worse because she does not understand why. She curls up more tightly and lies thereafter motionless, until she wakes up the next morning in a world she cannot comprehend- a world that is fundamentally wrong and in which she is an outcast- she does not, cannot belong in such a place- one dark and unfathomable to her infantile mind.
She knows not who, or even what, she is.
She is lost.
There, hope you enjoyed it, if that's the right word. Thank you for reading, anyway.