Chapter: You're Famous Child

XXXXX

I woke up when the truck hit a pothole. My head bounced off the window and knocked me awake. I licked my lips and swallowed the bad taste in my mouth. The radio was playing tropical country music, just the right mix of genres to advertise that, yes we were rednecks, but we were upper middle class rednecks. The cracked dashboard and rural road came into focus as I cleared the gunk out of my eyes. Someone grabbed my shoulder and shook the fog out of my brain.

"Hey, you feeling okay?" he asked.

It had been a week since I had woken up from the coma. I still hadn't returned to school. There was no point when I had missed over three months and most of my class would graduate in a week. I'd have to return next year or do summer school or something. The hand shook me again.

I batted it away. "Yeah, just fell asleep."

My dad laughed and returned his hand to the steering wheel. "So have you talk to your mother yet?"

I was stunned. "You didn't call her when I woke up?"

"I ain't going to call the bitch," he broke into laughter.

I rolled my eyes then glanced out the window to stare at the trees as they zoomed past. Why did the car smell like blood? Was my nose bleeding?

"Besides when was the last time you talked to her anyway?" he asked.

My shame made me laugh "Like Thanksgiving."

"It's May! Wasn't she coming for your graduation?" Dad actually glanced over at me surprised. I sighed, perhaps I should have called her and explained why I wasn't graduating on time. Another silence fell as I debated when to do it. A few miles of trees passed in the meantime. I could put it off for a few more days. Finally, my father could take the silence no longer. "So have you heard about Catherine's newest boyfriend?"

"There's a new one?" She had just started dating the old one last month.

He didn't even look away from the road. "The chef guy."

"Can you be more specific?" I asked.

"Tattoos, dresses like he fell out of a Hot Topic," he said.

"I said more specific."

Dad laughed but waved away my retort. "Anyway, he and Seth got into it over his new girlfriend."

Seth was my little brother, a couple of months ago, he brought this little, skinny red head around the house. She acted all mousy and quiet but she had an edge in her eyes. When I thought of the look in her eyes, I was reminded of Ruri. Which was weird, I hadn't the coma dream since I had woken up. Maybe I was trying to tell myself something. Seth's girlfriend had the same body type, and the same look in their eyes, as Ruri. I could picture both of them looking at me: Ruri's deep blues and the red-head's brown ones.

That was anger. I could see it clearly. Anger explained a lot about Ruri's behavior actually.

I couldn't chase that thought. Dad slapped me on the shoulder again. "Yo. Get the range box."

The truck had pulled off the road and settled into the dirt parking lot of our farm. With renewed purpose, I was able to stop thinking about the dream. It wasn't real, reality was that I was a high school senior who suffered a stroke. I grabbed the yellow tool box out of the floorboard and followed my father. He had three rifles and a couple of handguns, most of the family arsenal. We walked out into the pasture and crossed into the tree line. After years of dedication to shooting at least once a week, the path through the forest was clearly marked.

The range was set up deep in the woods so that we had a sound barrier. The beauty of having our own private shooting range was that we could choose when to clean it. In fact, the remains of our last round of practice were still there. After months of shooting, the home made posts were worse for wear and would probably have to be welded back together. Further back was a massive mound of dirt, packed high to catch the bullets and keep them from flying into the woods beyond. My dad was already unloading all of the guns onto the rickety table we had built.

"Did you miss me?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Seth doesn't like to shoot nearly as much as you do." He stopped pulling the gun out of the bag. "You know, we've come out here almost every weekend since you were a kid. I think these few months are the longest we've gone without shooting."

I nodded.

Dad held out an AR-15. "Okay, hit the targets that I call out. See how bad you've gotten withering in that hospital bed."

I juggled the gun in my hands. "This feels heavier then I remember."

He didn't look at me and kept loading another magazine. "It shouldn't, I only put six in a clip. That way we can save ammo. Stuff's getting expensive with that fucking nigger in office."

Yep, that was Dad. You couldn't mention Obama in my family without an obligatory racial slur. He threw an empty box into the 50-gallon barrel of trash next to the table. I didn't respond. I just put my cheek on the barrel and aimed down range.

"Range Hot!" I yelled.

The closest target was deliberately small to simulate a much larger distance. I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, leaned into the gun and centered the iron sight over the target. My heart beat became audible in my ears. Ba-dum. Ba- I started pulling the trigger.

"Hey!"

My finger flew off the trigger, my mind raced. What had I forgotten. "What!"

He walked over, completely ignoring my panic.

"Let's switch hands, have some fun," he shouted over his own ear protection.

I stared at him. "Isn't that a little awkward? What with the hot casings being inches from my face?"

Dad physically took the AR-15 out of my hands and reseated it so that I was shooting southpaw. "Hey. I've seen you practicing out here with both hands."

I continued to stare. "Yeah. With a bolt action."

"You'll be fine," he said and shook the gun to emphasize his point.

Trepidation coloring my every move, I complied and rested my head on the stock. Shifting several times, I finally found a comfortable spot and relaxed slightly.

"Left!" Dad called. Pop. A new neon orange hole appeared on the targets 'chest' and a puff of dirt shot up from the pile behind it. "Left. Center. Right. Lef-No. Center.

There was a pause, I kept the gun scrolling between targets waiting for him to call the next one.

"Right. Reload," he finally finished.

Every paper had a new holes in them. I ejected the empty clip with my thumb. Dad handed me another. But there was something stopping me. My mind was suddenly blank as I tried to move through the motions of reloading. I simply couldn't get myself to put the clip in. I squinted several times and shook my head, trying to focus on the rifle but something wasn't clicking.

Dad grabbed my shoulder. "You feeling okay? Sean? Sean?"

He slapped me on the shoulder with a smile. "Walk forward! Go see how you did!"

What? His double command caught me off guard but I nodded along. It would be good to see how bad I was after three months of lying in a bed.

XXX

I kneed her in the stomach then pinned her legs with my knees. She wouldn't punch me in the ribs again. And yet she still wouldn't scream, she just tightened her jaw and kept blinking away the tears that started to flow in earnest. I put all my weight on her, making sure that my knees were biting into her thighs. She kept glaring but there was more panic and agony. My free hand brushed the leather and found the hole. I plumbed those moist depths once again and finally she screamed. It was that same melodious sound but at a much higher pitch. It felt like my face was going to split. It was so wondrous. Her eyes closed and her legs jerked under me. It was a tight fit, I moved my thumb around and teased out the edges. The muscles in her face all fought against each other, every look better than the last. It was gushing the deeper I dug. I stopped and stared down at her, a smile still stretching my face.

XXX

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

A hard weight hit me in the chest. All the air in my lungs escaped in a spittle that degenerated into a coughing fit. It was so bright that I couldn't see anything past the glow. A vague shadow entered my vision and blocked some of the light. I tried to worm away and cough in peace but my legs were pinned. I swatted at the vague shadow to get it off me but only hit empty air. Leaning over the plastic railing, all I could see was the glare bouncing off the tiles and the plastic railing between my fingers. An Unfamiliar Floor? I couldn't breathe, my chest and throat hurt from the spasms and my eyes wouldn't dilate. A hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked, I held onto the plastic railing until my knuckles were white.

"Sean!" I recognized that voice and let go. She threw me onto my back. Red skin, a bob cut: Ruri. She grabbed my shirt and began shaking it in her hands. "Sean! Wake the fuck up!"

I still couldn't see anything other than the dress bunched up at her thighs and the claws ripping my shirt. My eyes refused to adjust to the light no matter how many times I blinked. "What the hell Ruri? What the hell is going on?"

She grabbed my face and finally came out of the light; a demon descending on a dying man. Her blue eyes are wide. "Sean! Get out there! Show them you're alive! If he says you're dead, we are fucked!"

"Huh?" I asked.

She yanked me up by my shirt, it had been cut in half, straight down the middle. There was a long line of pink flesh that looked like I had scratched it with my nails. Ruri's breath tingled against my skin and shoved peppermint up my nose. "Sean, you have to go out there. He's delivering a speech about the attack!"

"Ruri! You can't just beat him awake! He had a concussion!" Savanna's voice joined the ringing in my head. Another hand pressed against my chest and tried to force me back down. Ruri sat up and left my vision. My shirt ripped somewhere underneath me. She let go of my shirt and dropped me back onto the barely padded plastic. They started yelling at each other, increasing their volume until the soundwaves started crashing against my skull.

"Pinkie don't you get it? If Dad says he's dead then he will have us both level 5'd and Sean killed. If I died in a ship wreck and Sean Iscariot is in critical condition, what are the chances of him surviving?"

There was a pause. My mind was struggling to keep up with what they were all saying. I recognized the words but it was hard to put the ideas together. Savanna pushed her out of the way and pulled at my face, checking my eyes. "Sean? How do you feel? What's eight and two?"

Her bun was looking sloppy and hanging down around her neck. A light sheen of sweat on her brow complemented the flecks of blood on her shirt. She had apparently been working very hard on something. Her eyes looked more brown then red in the shadow and actually managed to put me at ease. God she was beautiful. Even her equally panicked expression was more comforting then Ruri's. I tried to look to my right but only my left eye was working. I could see a strip of tape and a white gauze pad over my nose. Why was I wearing a bandage over my eye?

My mind booted up and I finally processed her question.

"10, 6, 16, 4. Sean Westland, 18 years old. September second, 1994. Why are one of my eyes not working?"

Savanna pulled back and tilted her head. "When were you born?"

"1994," I said. It didn't seem important at that second besides wasn't that what people asked when you came out of a coma? Who was the president? What year was it?

Shit.

A third head pushed its way into my vision. I had to turn my head to get a better look at the white pupils on black eyes. Savanna's mother grabbed my cheeks and clenched down until I could feel her claws starting to draw blood. "I have you now, lying scum! You're a strider!"

She kept squeezing tighter until I could feel the first bead of blood slither down my cheek. I stared up at her, desperately trying to police the fear out of my eyes. It was an impossible task. The mask closed around Angie's face and the rest of her armor unfolded from her back as if summoned by magic. A lot of different emotions were filtered past Savanna's face; she looked torn between accusing me and scolding her mother. Angie, Savanna's mother's name was Angie. I tried to open my mouth but her grip only tightened more. If only I could say something! That was flimsy evidence she was operating on!

Finally, Ruri grabbed her wrist. "We don't have time for this! Dad is still making his speech! If he comes in here with his pokégirls we'll be cornered and the weight of the government will come down on us."

She didn't let go of my face; only glared at her. "We'll talk about you being Norman Lane's daughter in a minute. Now. Shut. Up."

Ruri mouth dropped then floundered desperately trying to rectify her slip of the tongue. Angie growled and Ruri's mouth shut with a snap.

"Now," Angie turned to me. "Get up."

She began pulling on my face as I scrambled to push myself out of the bed. Ruri stumbled over herself to get out of our way. Angie didn't have the patience to give her more than a second and dug her claws in her shoulder. Ruri managed to get her feet under her before Angie pushed her away. I was not so lucky and was dragged off the bed with only the claws in my face for support. I could taste the whisps of iron starting to flow in my mouth before they mixed with the burn of rubbing alcohol. Finally, I found my legs and pulled myself into a standing position.

"You are going to go out there and fix this. Then you will come right back here and we will have a discussion about lying to me and why you will never do it again," she said.

I nodded and she finally let go. I stretched my jaw and felt the new holes in the sides of my cheeks with my tongue. They hurt like a mother fucker but I couldn't stop the urge to touch them. She reached back up with glowing hands and a soothing feeling fought back the pain. Curiously, I brushed my tongue against the spot inside my cheeks and actually felt the skin growing back.

"Stop touching it, you moron," She scolded and jerked my head side to side to examine her work. With a nod of satisfaction, she twisted me to face the rest of the room.

There was a massive machine to my left and a wall of shelves full of pokéballs to my right. The bed I had been pulled off of was tucked behind the machine with two other beds. Savanna stood awkwardly beside it and Ruri was huddled near the shelves trying not looking any of us in the eyes. I stared at the doors on the far end of the room; the only one way out. Which meant that simply sneaking out of the back wasn't an option. I looked over my shoulder, not that Angie would have given me the chance. She punched me in the shoulder. "Hurry up."

I took a step towards the double swinging doors on the other end of the room. The tile was cool without any shoes on and I tugged at my newly created vest so that it wasn't hanging wide open. It was not the most flattering style. At least I had pants on. My bag was leaning against the bed. I put it on and tugged the shirt so that it wrapped a bit tighter around me and wasn't open, I still had a V-neck but at least it looked like I was wearing a real shirt.

I paused at the doors and scanned through the window. The doors were behind the front desk with the pokécenter spread out in front of me. Three nurse joys were standing there watching the action unfold before them. A large crowd, most of them from the town but there were camera-women and a few people rapidly typing on their laptops. They wore a mix of red, blue and green dress shirts with matching lanyards around their necks. A stage was set up on the left side of the room with Norman speaking behind podium. To his right, a red faced man patted at his forehead with a handkerchief and would occasionally suck in his stomach so that his suit didn't strain as much.

Off to the sides of the room various women scanned the crowd. Some of them were obviously pokégirls but of varying exoticism. All of them wore the same black shades, black combat pants and armored black shirts. The way they flanked the room and kept moving their heads meant they were probably Norman's guards. A few directed their stares at me as I looked away and scanned the crowd. Moments later three other women in the crowd suddenly looked at me. They weren't wearing the same outfit as the others but their timing had been very convenient; he had plain clothed bodyguards as well.

XXX

It was calming, watching the reflection of light color the dark room in blue waves of light. The pokégirls swimming and enjoying themselves among the artificial reef only added to the allure. Ferals were always more interesting to watch, maybe not as pretty as domestics but there was more freedom to their movements. No, perhaps naturalness was more appropriate? One of the outcasts swam past, she had the upper body of a woman but the lower body of a fish. Only the armor plating of her back and arms and the dorsal fin ruined the pristine, but heavily scarred, skin of her torso. However, the predatory look in her eyes when she stared at the man in the chair betrayed her condition. He smiled and scratched the white hairs on his chest when the pokégirl finally circled deeper into the tank.

"Mr. Archibald?" A new voice asked. He turned away from the tank that made up his back wall. The man at the entrance of his office smirked. "Sitting alone in the dark, sir?"

Archibald smiled and used his remote to turn the lights on. The former blue hue disappeared in the warm lights, he blinked and swiveled around to face the door. "Yes. It helps me relax. Keeping the Rustboro Alliance for Freedom and the Rustboro Econo Party working together is more stressful than you might imagine. It helps to just sit in the dark every once and while. Are you going to make it more stressful, Mr. Daul?"

Archibald stared at the newcomers bald head. They shared a small staring contest until the bald man rubbed his beard and shuffled the folder under his arm to his hands. "Not today, sir."

He grinned. "I hope so, when people come to my office in the wee hours of the night it can only be very good or very bad."

"I can't just come over for a drink?" he asked.

"Only with very good or very bad news."

They forced themselves to laugh. There was not an exceptional amount of love between them but professionalism demanded they stay jovially civil at all times. Daul placed the folder on his desk and took a step back. Before Archibald opened it, he waved to the corner of the room and a grey woman emerged from the corner. She had dark blue hair and a dolphin-like tail that poked out of a maid outfit, a boobfin. Daul glanced at her then the pokégirls swimming in the tank; many of them were boobfins as well but they were delighting themselves by outmaneuvering the predatory sharptits. However, the maid had no such happiness in her life; she offered him a glass of scotch with a blank expression. Archibald opened the folder as he took the glass from her.

"Wonderful! Packer did it." Archibald slapped the table excitedly. He looked up at Daul. "I assume you've dispatched a few reporters?"

"Of course, a killer queen? How could the UFP so utterly fail to protect their citizens?" He checked his watch. "In fact, the last report was that my reporters were already at the press conference. It should be broadcasting right now."

The television on the far wall was turned on immediately. Daul took another sip of his beverage and glanced at the positively giddy Archibald. The old fool was Norman clutching a podium with the Petalburg gym symbol behind his head: it was shaped like two circles, counterbalancing each other. To its detractors it was a barbell. Microphones were stuck in his face and cameras flashed much too often for one man. He didn't even have a suit and tie, instead just a red jacket like he had rushed out of his house to get there.

"He's rather relaxed," Archibald said.

Daul nodded with a genuine grin. If there was one thing they greed on, it was a disdain for Norman. A lot of higher level politicians from the Earth and the Sea Coalitions disliked the UFP. They were little better than a weed that had wormed its way into every city. It was bad enough that they had complete control of Petalburg but even worse was the how many votes they got around the league. It was enough to make them the largest party in The Assembly but they were constantly outvoted by the two coalitions.

They had turned on the television too late to see the entire press conference but they could catch the meat of it. Norman was already in full swing. "-led by a Killer queen. It was a failure on the part of our surveillance and security. Due to a laxity in protocol, a killer queen was able to slip into the League and wreak havoc. I do not know where this killer queen originated from but I trust that the government in Petalburg will find them immediately. In the meantime, as the leader of the Petalburg gym I will be increasing the security presence in Oldale until we can be assured that this town is safe. Four people have died, a fifth is in critical condition, Oldale has suffered damage, and the entire populace has been terrorized and possibly traumatized. The town will be reinforced by other units until the citizenry feels safe. "

"My heart goes out to the families. Unfortunately, I understand what these parents are going through very well. The loss of my daughter with the S.S. Cactus ten short days ago and now the loss of these four lives shows just how dangerous the world, even our homeland, is becoming. However, these young men and women did not die in vain. The killer queen, as well as the entire horde was killed quickly and efficiently by those who responded to the all-call. Armed with rifles they should have never been given, they took a suicidal stand against the forces that sought to destroy humanity and did their duty as the stalwart guardians of human civilization. Dorian Sharrow, Zackary Emerson, Conrad Gardener and Clarissa Prescott died as heroes. It is my hope that their family's grief can be tempered with a healthy amount of pride for their children's accomplishments. An even greater hope I harbor is that Sean Iscariot will pull through so that the people of Hoenn league have more than martyrs to celebrate."

XXX

"As the gym leader of Petalburg I am in charge of defending the towns in this department from ferals. Part of this is the management of all local sheriffs and their officer jennies. Clearly something has gone wrong; four young men and women are dead. While I appreciate the spirit of arming them with rifles, it is illegal in Petalburg to arm tamers who do not poses the proper licensing or proper supervision. None of those tamer's possessed that license. Which has led to Sheriff Grant Allan's suspension. Those tamers were left to fend for themselves which is both of great concern to me personally and a violation of the law."

A man and a woman both watched the screen. Running his hand through his red hair, the man leaned back in the leather seat and sighed. "He's selling it pretty hard."

The woman turned to face him then glanced back at the screen. "He hasn't mentioned anything about their pokégirls."

He grunted out a laugh and looked out the window. "When has the UFP ever cared about them?"

She didn't respond.

"The laws of Petalburg are very clear, tamers are not allowed access to element rifles or heavy pistols without supervision by a law enforcement officer. As a result of his actions young men and women were given weapons they had no training with and were imbued with a sense of false confidence that compelled them to take a suicidal stand against a superior force. No matter how successful these children were, it does not excuse the circumstances they were forced into. All the while Mister Allan stayed in the pokécenter as those young men and women died. Clearly, Mister Allan's actions need to be investigated. For these reasons, I have placed him on a paid suspension pending the results of an official investigation," Norman continued to preach on the screen.

Neither of them said anything during the segment. Not much could be done for Mister Allan. What Norman really meant was that Allan was going to lose his job, his jenny and his freedom. They both shook their heads, the bond between a jenny and her partner was more complex than those of other breeds. That was why they usually retired with their partners. Norman wasn't going to allow that. Separating a jenny was never easy and if the pair had been together for a long time it usually necessitated a level-five.

Before Norman could start his next paragraph, the car finally stopped. The woman grabbed her katana leaning against the seat and shimmied out of the car into a hail of screams. He gave one last look at the TV.

"For now, we all stand with bated breath as Sean Iscariot struggles to recover from his life threatening injuries," Norman said. The man rolled his eyes and followed the woman out.

Outside of the car, the woman kept her hand on the hilt of her sword and scanned the crowd of people. The screams increased ten-fold as the man stepped onto the red carpet and smiled at them. Cameras were flashing in a constant blaze of lights. Men, women, pokégirls all jostled behind magma grunts to get a better photo or to stick their hands through. He buttoned up his jacket and started shaking hands with the multitudes that found their way around the uniformed guards. The woman fell in step behind him with her eyes constantly scanning all around. Above them towered a hotel that would host him for the next few weeks.

"So many at such an early hour!" the man bellowed. The crowd cheered loudly in response.

Despite herself, the woman smiled. "The world will always come to see you Master Maximus."

Despite the din of the crowd Maximus Leahy heard her perfectly fine. "I told you to call me Maxie."

XXX

Something brushed against the hairs on the back of my head, it felt like a mosquito had just landed. I scanned over the crowd again and sure enough a pair of orange antennae were conspicuously twitching. The girl they were attached to tried not to look at me but she was clearly starting to get annoyed about something. As I stared at her, she backed further into the mass of townsfolk who were gaping from the back wall. Perhaps she was a makeshift communications officer? None of the women in black had noticeable earpieces.

I shifted to the other window and put the gap between us. Norman was not dressed for a press conference, long gone was his suit replaced by a pair of blue sweats and a red jacket. It was sloppy work for a politician but I wondered why he had shown up at all. I pushed the doors open and side-stepped into the room quietly. A camera would flash every once and a while but there wasn't a massive storm anymore. Apparently, this had been going on for a while.

As soon as the door quietly closed again, my name was spoken.

"…Sean Iscariot struggles to recover from his life threatening injuries." Norman scanned the crowd with a smile. He never actually reached me at the far side of the room and I was content to stay behind the three nurse joys. The security woman closest to me stood stoically against the wall with her hands crossed in front of her. She was a canine breed with leather braces on her arms and a much larger muscles than I. Her sharp eyes only crossed mine for a second before she went back to watching the crowd.

Norman tapped the podium. "Now I think I have time for some questions."

Without any other prompting the first reporter started talking. "Ignoring that the Killer queen was here at all. How did the Killer queen assemble such a large horde to attack Oldale?"

Norman didn't even bristle at the insulting comment. As he spoke, he kept a solid beat and used his hands to deliver each point. "Investigators have yet to arrive. However, judging by the ferals outside. It appears to me, preliminarily of course, that the killer queen was recruiting from within the local game reserves and Route 101. That probably explains how low level tamers were able to even survive. Again, let me be clear, that is my preliminary guess and it may change as the investigation gets under way."

"Sources are saying that the Killer queen attacked from the north. That is the direction of the Packer Family Estate. The Packer family has been a big supporter of the United Futures Party. Could any investigation by your office, given your position within the UFP, be considered a conflict of interest?" another asked.

Norman's knuckles turned white on the podium. "There is nothing more important to myself or to the UFP as a whole than the safety of our citizens. Those responsible will be brought to justice and face the penalties they righteously deserve no matter their station. However, this can only happen once the pertinent investigations have been completed. Once the investigations are complete, the men or women who enabled this tragedy to occur will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law."

He swept his eyes over the entire room, taking extra time find each camera pointed at him. He then pointed to a raised hand in the audience.

"Given how close this incident occurred to the explosion on the SS Cactus, is it possible the two are related?" a woman in a red dress-shirt asked.

Norman shook his head. "Neither investigation has been completed so I won't comment on the possibility at this time."

"What charges could Grant Allan be facing?" a reporter with a blue lanyard asked.

"What Grant Allan did is hard to explain but in this league, people are innocent until proven guilty. While young men and women died he stayed behind in the pokécenter with civilians, we know that for a fact. On the surface that is behavior unbecoming of a sheriff and member of the League. However, the killer queen situation developed very quickly and we must remain impartial. There is also the matter of giving rifles and heavy pistols to unlicensed and unsupervised tamers. Something clearly went wrong in that situation." Norman took a deep breath. "I cannot say at this time what charges will be filed against him as the investigation is not complete and that is not something I have a say over. While it is in my authority as the Gym Leader of Petalburg to suspend him, I do not have the authority to press charges. That is the purview of the judicial system."

In the crowd, the reporter closest to me shook his head. He had a blue pass around his neck with HNN in big letters on the front of it. A small white A was on his lapel as well. He scowled and typed on his laptop. "But you have enough influence."

I chuckled. He glanced around and smiled good-naturedly at me. It took him a moment but suddenly the reporter did a double-take to get a good look. He double checked with his laptop and nearly lit up. I smirked at him. The reporter's smile became a devious smirk and he raised his hand to speak.

Norman pointed at him.

"What kind of condition is Sean Iscariot currently in?" he asked. He had a good poker face and didn't look at me. I took a step back and disappeared behind the wall of nursejoys.

"Mr. Iscariot is currently the only survivor of this tragedy. However, he was in critical condition according to the last information I received. His injuries were apparently severe enough that the nurse I spoke with was not sure of his survival. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that I hope he pulls through whatever the obstacles against him." Norman said.

"Thank you for your concern, Mister Lane," I announced and stepped out from behind the nurse joys.

Norman's expression barely changed as the crowd turned to stare at me. I stared back and smiled easily. A million camera flashes went off and blinded me. The reporter who revealed my survival could barely keep the smile off his face. The flashes didn't stop for a few solid seconds and I couldn't see much past him. I was thankful because it spared me from having to look anyone in the eyes. The man next to him had a horrible poker face and kept darting his eyes back and forth between the two of us. Norman moved his jaw back and forth with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Perhaps you would like to come up here, Mr. Iscariot?" he asked.

I nodded and walked past the canine woman with the flashes following me the entire way. As I came up on stage, Norman extended his left hand with it facing down. If you have ever wondered where the phrase 'upper hand' comes from, it comes from this. If your palm is facing downward or inwards, you have the upper hand. Literally. Usually the person on the left looks more dominant because most of humanity shakes with their right hand, which shows the top of the hand to observers. However, Norman fucked that up by extending his left hand instead of his right. Subtle but politicians did it every day. Putin and Bush are a good example of politicians who would compete on small things like a handshake. Norman, by extending his left, would look more powerful despite being on the right side of the photos.

I took his hand in my left as well but used my free right hand to cover his. It wasn't the best solution and it was a bit intimate. Norman's smile dipped slightly as we kept shaking. I got the upper hand by giving him a nice little hand-hug. We continued to smile at each other.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Iscariot." Norman said, measuring his language.

"The pleasure is all mine, my condolences about your daughter," I said. Score one for me.

His nose twitched in a micro-snarl. "Thank you, but I don't think you could fathom my pain until you lost something you care about dearly."

He let go of my hand and the plump man behind him stepped up. Norman centered himself between us and put his hands on both of our shoulders. The second man held out his right hand and we shared a more cordial shake. "Mr. Iscariot thank you for your efforts to defend my town."

"It's always a pleasure to perform the duties that society gives me," I said and glanced over at Norman.

"It's so simple for you," Norman said. He had barely moved his lips but I had heard him.

The three of us turned to smile at all of the cameras. It was a sea of light that kept me blind for the next fifteen seconds. After the flashes started to die down I closed my eyes but the phantom flashes continued. In that moment, I wondered if I should have just ruined him and told all of those cameras about Ruri. But would she be okay with me revealing that she was a pokégirl? Would any of them have believed me? I doubt she had red skin before and Norman could easily call me a liar. That and she held pokégirls in contempt so she probably found it shameful. I decided to keep quiet.

Finally, the camera flashing stopped.

"Mr. Iscariot." The Mayor said turning to look me in the eyes. "On behalf of the people of Oldale, I present to you your share of the killer queen bounty: one hundred-sixty-thousand SLC. It will be transferred to your account shortly."

I did the math, which became four zeroes; so 1600 dollars. We shook hands again.

Norman didn't move his hands from either of our shoulders. "The rest will be divided and given to the families of those who died."

"That's wonderful," I parroted back.

Norman pretended to be thoughtful. "Though perhaps you would donate some of your winnings to the families? Every little bit would help."

What a cunt. I looked back at him and stared him the eyes for a long second.

"I would love too, however, I have to take care of mygirls. Any advantage I have I can't simply give away." I turned back to the camera. "But I will give them the extra 600 – make that 60,000 - off the top. Every little bit helps."

More camera flashing blinded me.

There was a pause as I continued to scan the crowd. A reporter raised his hands. Curious, I glanced at the Mayor and Norman. "Do we have time for more questions?"

Norman eyes jerked from my neck to my face. What had he been thinking about? He smiled at the crowd and the few other hands being raised. "Yes."

I looked back at the crowd and found the HNN reporter who had helped me, I pointed at him.

"Why is your alpha named Ruri?" he asked.

It was scary that people could find out anything about you. What kind of information was just public record? My name, place of birth, names of my pokégirls? It was like everyone had a copy of my driver's license to pull up out of the blue. A more devious smile curled my lips.

"It's such a unique and beautiful name, I was entranced by it the first time I heard it." I looked at Norman and winked with the eye that was hidden from the cameras. "I hope I haven't offended you, Mister Lane. I know how much you loved your daughter. I hope my alpha can live up to the name."

He looked down at his hands and pretended to be amused then he looked up with a fatherly smile. "You've proven to be very lucky so far. I'm sure she will; if you can keep it up."

Cameras kept on clicking as Norman and I smiled at each other. I turned back to the crowd and picked out another reporter. She had a red tag with LBC on it. "How did you defeat the killer queen? Does it have to do with your blood gift?"

"Now, now that's classified. As for the killer queen, it was a group effort." My response was automatic but I did wonder why; what was Wanc thinking? I glanced down at the podium and put on a sad face. "Those that died have nothing to be ashamed of. They fought very bravely."

More cameras flashed. It was quickly becoming very annoying and I looked at the door to escape the bright lights. The first traces of sunlight were beginning to poke through the glass. I stifled a fake yawn and stretched my shoulders.

"I have to apologize. I'm still very tired and if it pleases all of you, I'd prefer we end it here. I'm sure you all would like to get some sleep yourselves. It's very late." I pointed to the door. "Or very early."

The entire room looked at the doors. Norman's hand came down on my shoulder. "I think I have to agree. That's all we have time for."

He guided me off the stage as a chorus called for our return. We glided over to the edge of nurse's desk. Norman stuck his hand out. The mayor kept trying to get the attention of the crowd but they were all watching Norman and me.

I took his hand and gave it firm shake.

"I'll see you in Petalburg, Mr. Iscariot," Norman said. He juggled my fingers in his grip. I glanced down and tried not to smirk, that was just childish.

XXX

I closed the doors behind me and sighed. The crowd was still going strong as Norman walked to the door flanked by the women in black. A few reporters listened to the Mayor but most of them were staring at me. I smiled and walked away from the windows. Angie was glaring with both arms crossed as Savanna and Ruri leaned against either wall. No one appeared to have talked the entire time.

"Enjoy the show?" I asked.

"Yes, it was very amusing watching you bait Norman Lane," Angie pointed her thumb at Ruri. "It confirmed that she's actually Norman Lane's daughter."

Ruri's glare at Angie mellowed when she looked at me. "Did you have to do that?"

"Sorry." Not sorry. It was totally worth it.

"Now," Angie said, calling the attention back to her. "You lied to me."

"No I didn't. Mom really ran an inn." No she doesn't. "And Wanc really has hired me."

Angie looked me up and down, Savanna kept staring at the ground, Ruri glared at the wall and I kept looking Angie in the eyes.

"The scaring thing is I almost believe you. But you aren't the first random stranger Wanc has paid the bills for. I didn't like you from the beginning; fuck what Jasmine says," Angie said.

"Mom," Savanna said weakly. One look shut her up.

"So basically, Wanc keeps injuring people and I blurt out that I was born in 1994. Suddenly I'm a strider?" I asked. I remembered that a boat had been leaving the day Littleroot the same day I had woken up there. Which meant that I could say I was from out of town and possibly from very far away. "Mom is very religious. We don't use the same calendar amongst ourselves."

She looked unimpressed.

"What's more likely? Wanc keeps finding people and testing them only to have them injured or he's taking them from other dimensions?" I asked, emphasizing just how ludicrous other dimensions was.

"And what is he testing you for?" she asked.

"Hell if I know. The pay is good though. I don't ask questions," I said.

"And all of these people need to come to the hospital for vaccinations while unconscious?" she asked.

"He's a sadistic bastard. He's paying me to do the gym challenge. I know that I, for one, had never left Pallet town before."

"So," Angie crossed her arms. "When were you born?"

"Whatever 18 years ago was; in our calendar that was 1994. When I left Pallet Town it was 2012." I said.

"You don't know the date the rest of us use?" she asked.

"We used a different calendar and I never had to remember the year because Mom never had me file her paperwork for her. Hell, everyone else said that New Years was in Ianuarius. Which is, um, January. We celebrated it in martius, which is March in the regular calendar."

Okay, so now my 'mother' followed a weird religious calendar of Numa. I was on a roll and Angie looked just confused enough that I was almost clear.

She crossed her arms and paced back and forth, her jaw mulling over my point like the scale of justice. "You are so full of shit."

Now for a counter accusation; I exploded in anger.

"What do you have against me?" I asked, taking a step forward and acting completely outraged. "I have done nothing wrong and yet you keep trying to accuse me of something! I get it, and I respect you for wanting to protect your family. Much more than that bastard Norman has ever done. But why does that have to include vilifying me? I've treated Savanna with the utmost respect and courtesy! I've protected her to the best of my ability! I'm not perfect but I am trying!"

"It's not good enough!" Angie roared. Good, I had changed the subject.

"She can't stay at home forever, she wants to leave. The Doc trusted me, the chain-woman trusted me, whoever Jasmine is, she trusted me. Why do you think there are so many reporters out there? This killer queen attack was a fluke; an isolated incident!"

Angie crossed the distance in a blink. I was hoisted into the air. I slipped out of the straps of the bag and it hit the floor. Angie kicked the bag into the wall and scooped up my shirt before I could move. I was hauled back into the air. "I watched my baby thrown against a wall! She almost evolved! Don't tell me about freak accidents!"

"What?" I asked bewildered.

"That bitch was going to kill my baby girl!" Angie screamed.

"No, I killed the Killer queen in that store, I-!" I said.

"Shut up! You think you could beat a high level killer queen? Who do you think killed her?" she said.

"I-" I repeated.

"Get out." She threw me to the ground. I skidded against the floor for a few feet almost ripping my shirt off. It hurt but I didn't let the pain affect me. I had more important things to worry about. I stared up at her. I couldn't figure out what she was saying, none of it made sense. I tried to mouth out 'what' but she just punched the air towards the door. We glared at each other until I regained enough sense to stand up.

"Okay, Savanna can decide. You're right this was my failure and she's not a slave," I said.

Angie snorted. Savanna gaped and Ruri accused me of being retarded. I shook my head. "Ruri. Come on, let's take a walk."

A tense curtain of silence fell while we were all frozen in our thoughts. Savanna was the first to speak. "Sean-"

"No," I said and held up my hand. "She's your family. You should hear her out. I'll support anything you decide."

"Sean!" she screamed.

I put my hand up. "Ruri! Let's give them some space."

She threw her hands down and stomped after me.

Savanna's eyes dropped as we walked towards the door while Angie simply watched us leave with a blank look on her face. Before I left, I scooped up my bag and put it back over my shoulders. We left without looking back; Ruri was too angry to speak to me and I had a plan or the beginning of a plan. She waited for the doors to close before even sparing me a glance. The lobby was still crammed with people but it had dispersed. The reporters had broken into camps to interview the townspeople. They were all focused on their own interviews and no one was even looking at us. The nurse joys hadn't turned around either. It started to feel like the twilight zone.

"I'm keeping them distracted," came a mischievous tone from my left.

She had red skin and massive antennae that were weaving through the air. Her arms were tucked under her massive chest that was barely constrained by the black shirt. She was smiling at me with like I was a child she had to babysit. I glanced back at the crowd of reporters. I even made eye contact with one of them; they simply looked away.

"Could you not do that? It makes it harder to distract them if you actively try to subvert me," she said. She had the same outfit as Norman's guards but I hadn't seen her before. Even the plain clothed pokégirls had left. So who was this?

'What do you want' I thought.

We stared at each other until she finally smiled. "What?"

She wasn't reading my mind? The red girl smiled.

"Should I read your thoughts?" she asked. I shook my head. Her antennae fluttered around, they were much larger than Wanc's girl or the woman's in the crowd. She pointed to the door. "I'm supposed to keep the media off you but if you could leave it'd make my job a lot easier."

Ruri finally spoke. "Why does Norman want the media away?"

"Norman?" she asked then shook her head. "I don't work for him."

Then why was she dressed like his guards?

I put my hand on Ruri's back and pushed her forward. We both walked past the strange girl and through the crowd of people staying out of the various interviews. The sun was still hiding behind the pokécenter and basking us in its shadow. I glanced down the street towards the center of town and found it completely bare.

I rocked with a blow to my shoulder.

"What the hell are you thinking? She can't leave!" Ruri demanded. I sighed and started walking towards the center of town without responding to her. I only got a few feet past her when she shoved her hand into my chest and blocked the path forward. "What are you going to do if she leaves? Who's going to heal me?"

"Heal you?" I asked without evoking any emotion. What kind of complete bitch asked that question? Did she care about anybody but her fucking self? She really was a fucking horrible person.

She didn't even flinch. "Yeah, me! I thought you wanted to take care of me!"

I pushed past her and kept walking forward. She screamed in frustration. The center of the street wasn't even stained with any blood or marred in any form. Even the footprints from the night before were gone. I almost made it to the main intersection when Ruri blocked me again. She actually drew blood with her claw.

Before she could speak, I got my two cents in. "I never said that I wanted to take care of you."

"Yeah, but I know your type!" She said and shoved her claw back into my chest, trying to push me. I stood my ground. She stared up at me, eyebrows low and baring her teeth.

I nodded my head and turned on my heels. Before she could catch up, I ducked into an alley and slowed down. She swung in front of me and tried to shove her finger in my chest again. I shoved her against the wall before she could react and wedged my arm under her neck so that she was pinned against the wall and suffocating. Blue eyes glared at me as I simply looked down at her with a blank look on my face.

"What do you know about me?" I asked.

I kept my voice low and even. She tried to worm out of the pressure on her throat but failed. She smirked. "You're like me. You try to hide it but you're a killer."

"I'm not like you." I put more strength into choking her and leaned in so could whisper in her ear. "You can kill because you fucking hate everything. It's just revenge. If you didn't have slaves to torture you'd be fucking cutting yourself."

She put her leg between mine and tried in vain to keep her eyes from fluttering. She was going to kick me. I stepped back in and forced her legs apart. The veins in her forehead were starting to show, I let some pressure off her neck so she'd stay conscious. A coughing fit engulfed her while I kept enough pressure to keep her from bending over. The spittle against my face was nothing I couldn't ignore. She regained her composure and smiled at me. "Fuck you, I have every reason. What about your perfect fucking dimension? Huh? What made you such a fucking asshole?"

A manic smile came to my face. "I blame video games but really that's just an excuse. Seven billion people were polluting my planet. What's a few less? It's just nature's way of keeping meat fresh. But I was going make use of my disposition, be a productive member of society. What have you accomplished?"

Her smile died once I asked her about her accomplishments. Interesting. I had struck a nerve and her face twisted into an angry snarl. "Fuck you."

I put more pressure on her throat than ever and her hands came up to claw into my arm.

"We're all just animals." I let go and took a step back. Another coughing fit kept her clutching at her throat and coughing on the ground as I leaned against the other wall. The sun was finally peaking up over buildings. The shadow receded over Ruri's shoe when she finally got her breath back. I stared at her red skin, remembered how it felt. I kind of regretted instigating her. "Now it's just a bit more literal."

Ruri wiped some spit off her lips, as glossy and kissable as they were. "So you cut yourself?"

A smile stretched my face as I showed off my pristine wrists. "No."

She gave me a distasteful look then brushed off her dress. "What are we going to do about a healer? A killer robot? A killer queen? At this rate Rustboro will be attacked by a Widow and Dewford will have been hit by a cyclone."

"Just like that? You're an asshole killer!" I said in one voice then switched to another. "What are we going to do now? You're bipolar."

"I just wanted you to say it." Ruri declared with a smile. We stared at each other in that alley studying each other's eyes, face, lips.

"You just wanted me to say that I was okay with killing another human being? I've never even killed anyone," I lied.

"I saw you 'drop' that crate on that scientist in the magma camp. You didn't care about those harpies and doggirls in the woods either. Even though you should because you don't know the difference between a pokégirl and a human. All you cared about was the smell. You kept on shooting all of those pokégirls at the gate without any mercy too. You didn't care then and you aren't torn about it now. Don't lie to me Sean. We're alike. We both know the truth. It's no different if its pokégirls, people, or animals."

I didn't say anything and we both stood there for a long while just staring at each other. Telling people you wouldn't mind having to put a bullet through them wasn't exactly dinner conversation. You probably shouldn't tell fellow high school students that you would be okay with looking another human being in the eyes and killing them. That you would be fine with it, even though you realize that that human has a family, friends, hobbies, aspirations, good traits, bad traits, and secrets. It's one of those horrible things you eventually realize about yourself and that you keep secret.

There was also something about being accepted. Like any SS guard at Auschwitz will tell you, there's a certain bonding in doing something immoral but legal together. Because you're in it together, your fates are linked but there isn't a sword hanging above your necks. They've seen the worst of you and they're no better; it creates a certain amount of respect between you. Ruri looked me in the eyes, daring me to cross the distance. The air was thick with something electric. She only had to look up and accept me with open arms. I grabbed her legs and slammed her into the wall. Her claws were biting into my neck and ripping at my hair; she wrapped her legs around me and pulled me into her. I pulled out of the fire and trailed bites down her neck.

She was fucked up.

I was fucked up.

We were both fucked up.

XXXXX