Chapter 3: Chapter 3 TechNet Rewritten!
Chapter 3: TechNet
"Now why'd you have to go and eat all of the kibble, mate? Haven't you ever heard of sharing?"
"Uh, um, well, I, didn't, um, know you were, um, sorry?" I stuttered as I backed towards the edge of the pen.
"Well, the only way for me to eat now is to eat it straight outta you!" bellowed the mass emerging out of the corner. As it slinked out of the shadows, I could make out what it was. An Ice-blue reptile with red spikes and a big jaw lumbered towards me in a menacing fashion.
An angry croconaw stood before me, staring at me like I was an all-you-can-eat buffet with a salad bar.
He reared his head back and opened his jaw, probably aiming straight for my stomach or throat. Then he charged at me in a flash of yellow and blue. I thought I was going to crap myself at that very moment.
Then my head was in a massive amount of pain. I tried to open my eyes, but when I did they were greeted by the sight of a tongue and sharp looking teeth. The son of a bitch was gnawing on my head!
Then, I had a stroke of luck! The grunt that put me there snatched the croconaw from my head and put him in a small cage. It took a bit of force and multiple attemps to get Croconaw to let go, but my head was finally free! He carried the snapping pokemon into another room, and I collapsed!
They really messed up that one, I thought. Or at least, I think I thought that.
No, that was me. Up here, in the third cage to the left. I looked behind me and up to where the voice instructed. A wall of cages stood behind the holding pen, most pokemon staring at me with a look of boredom. A small Abra was sitting straight up in its cage asleep.
Who are you?
I was a human once, much like you. But now I'm an Abra. They've changed me just as they've changed you. Except that I don't have as many psychic powers as an Abra should. They called me a failed experiment.
They? Define, please.
TechNet. It started out as a genetics company, and the whole thing went down-hill. Power and corruption and all that crap. Your little buddy there is being constantly injected with steroids. It's really gonna suck when he gets back.
But what do they want with me?
Look, I'm not Wikipedia. They want something different with all of us. You're a psychic type too, figure it out for yourself. Try reading a mind or two, although not much is ever going on inside these soldiers' heads. I would suggest a scientist, but our handlers are specially trained to block outsiders from their thoughts. Here's your opportunity, a Grunt's coming to get you right now. Be seeing you kid.
Just as he said, a Grunt came over and caged me again. I was soon put in a room with a one-way mirror. The room had white walls, and the floor was covered in Grass. I stood on alert, who knew what was about to happen. The impossible already did. There was a speaker underneath the mirror, allowing the people behind it to instruct and observe without any danger.
"Hello there John. You must be curious as to what's going on to you and who we are. My name is Mr. Slater, and we have done as you have asked. We've eliminated your Cancer and any chance of you ever getting it again. In fact, we've actually lengthened your lifespan. You should be grateful! Hahahaha!" The voice began to chuckle. My fur stood on end, I was so angry.
"Me? Grateful? Look at what you've done to me! I'm friggin pink!" I projected my thoughts aloud.
"Actually, John, you're a shade of purple. And might I say, you've got such a lush coat of fur! Hahahaa!" I could hear other people laughing too. This was making me so very mad. "We've brought you here to do some examination. For your first test, we'll test the limits of your new abilities and how many moves you know right off the bat. Please bring in the opposing pokemon." A small, pokemon-sized door was opened at the other end of the room. A round, blue shape slowly entered the room.
"Golett, initiative: test opponent's fighting abilities. Keep casualties to a minimum. End."
"Golett!" the automaton said emotionlessly. It then turned towards me and said "Primary target: locked. Goal: test fighting abilities. Commencing Battle. Keep casualties to a minimum; understood."