A loud banging noise woke Andrew as his cell door was flung open. He lazily turned his body toward the source to see a red figure approaching. The prison sounds he had grown accustomed to traveled through the open door and throughout the cell. However, the increased volume did little to further wake him. Having grown numb to barks and yells of prisoners and guards.
As Andrew rubbed his eyes, a loud voice boomed within the cell.
"Rise and shine Marshtomp!"
Without warning, sharp claws painfully pierced his blue skin. Despite sudden alertness, he found himself unable to move. The familiar sensation of his heart beating rapidly against his chest returned, as confused and panicked thoughts filled his mind. What's happening? Am I being kidnapped again? Andrew tried to yell, but a furry red hand clasped itself around his mouth before any sound could exit his throat. He felt the claws further dig into his skin as the creature hoisted him off the cold stone floor.
"I'll admit you're tougher than ya look, kid!" said his newest captor, carelessly.
As if he were merely a toy, the creature Andrew recognized as an Incineroar threw him over his back. The Pokemon's fur was surprisingly warm and soft, a pleasant sensation swept over Andrew's torso as his moist skin absorbed the pleasant heat. He shuddered slightly as the warmth overtook him. Despite his unexpected gratification, the panic rising within him only grew. Thin orange eyes darted from side to side as Andrew was carried out of the cell.
Despite his unfortunate situation, he felt relieved to exit the confining room. His overactive heart began to slow and his limited breathing began to stabilize. Being given a new perspective via the Incineroar's back, he carefully watched the various Pokemon squabble below him. A loud clanging sound joined the hallway's symphony of noise as the pounding on a door he passed grew more and more aggressive. It was surrounded by four, large Pokemon. They all stared intensely at the cell's door. Are they just gonna stand around and let that guy break the door down? Andrew questioned. In stark contrast, he eyed a group of small Pokemon sitting on the ground, playing some sort of card game. I can see they are doing their jobs. Andrew thought sarcastically.
As he and the Incineroar lumbered away, the jail seemed to return to its normal state of chaos. Limited to relatively uniform yelling. Andrew began growing bored from the long, slow walk. His eyes began to droop shut as his lack of sleep began to catch up with him. Before he could fully fall asleep, the Incineroar's voice broke its silence.
"Ya know kid, doctor chewed me out for not feeding ya," he said, slightly angered.
Andrew's eyes shot open as panicked thoughts rushed through his head. Does this Incineroar want revenge? Did he bring me here to kill me? He panned his head around, only to find himself back in the empty, dark hallway from the previous day. The perfect place to kill me. He panicked. The Incineroar began to raise Andrew off his back. Using only one hand, he carefully placed him on the ground before speaking,
"Sorry about that whole mess last night. But don't go pulling this guy's tails!" the Incinorear said lightheartedly, as he opened a door next to Andrew.
He tilted his head, why is this guy suddenly being nice? A suspiciously large grin shot across the Incineroar's face as he continued to hold the door open. Andrew watched the Incineroar's eyes narrow as he entered the room. After feeling the door shut behind him, he heard a soft click. A reminder that he was yet to earn back his freedom. Squinting his eyes and scanning the room, he quickly realized it appeared identical to the one from the previous day. It had identical furnishings and paint, as well as the same wall-length mirror. Unlike the last time he was in an interrogation room, somebody was waiting for him standing on top of the table.
Looking down, the Pokemon yelled, "Hey kid! Andrew isn't it?" as his yellow eyes pierced Andrew's own.
Without thinking, Andrew blurted out, accusatorily, "Oh, and are you also here to interrogate me?"
The Pokemon's eyes narrowed and his expression fell into a bitter scowl. He spoke in a quieter, more dramatic voice, "That's a bold thing to say Mister Marshtomp."
Andrew's eyes widened as the Pokemon he registered as a Grovyle jumped down from the table. His scowl transitioned into a sharp grin as he bared his claws and approached Andrew. His mouth fell slightly agape and his flippers raised to shield his face as he was forced to freeze in shock. Inches away from him, the Grovyle spoke,
"I like you Mister Marshtomp," before bursting out laughing.
Embarrassed, Andrew dropped his flippers and turned his head to the floor. He felt the Grovyle playfully slap him against the back. It's not like we've known each other for two minutes, he thought, sarcastically. To his surprise, however, the Grovyle attempted to console him.
"Um, sorry if I upset you Mister Marshtomp. The name's George," he spoke softly.
The additional change in mood only added to Andrew's confusion. Turning his head back up from the ground, he studied George with a blank expression. George's face fell into a frown as Andrew's beady orange eyes stared into his. Breaking the tension, he spoke,
"Please Mister Marshtomp, have a seat."
Mister Marshtomp? Since when is that my name? Andrew thought. Despite his surprise by George's sudden display of formality, he reluctantly obliged the request. With a slight scowl, he made his way to a bench. George sat down on one bench across from him and cleared his throat.
"Now Mister Marshtomp, do you know who I am?"
"My name is Andrew, not Mister Marshtomp," he sneered.
Shaking his head and sighing, George asked again, "Andrew, do you know why you are here?"
"Because I robbed a store?" Andrew tilted his head slightly.
Smiling, George said, "You aren't supposed to admit that to me."
Panicked, Andrew straightened his body and began tapping the table with his stubby fingers. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I did not rob that store."
"That's the right attitude kid! The judge might even believe that, with some practice of course," George said happily, and winked.
Judge? Andrew thought. Like in a trial? Is this guy my lawyer, or something? Do I even get a trial? Are they going to put me in a Pokemon prison? Andrew's eyes shifted up towards the ceiling as the thoughts swirled in his head. He grabbed the table and dug his fingers into the wood, as he envisioned his various possible fates. Raising a claw and clearing his throat again, George brought Andrew back to reality.
Though caught off guard, Andrew quickly refocused and barraged the lawyer with questions,
"Is the judge a nice person? How many judges are there? I'm going to a court trial, right? How long will they sentence me? Are they going to sentence me? Are they going to kill me? Am I going to die? Are you going to kill me?"
"Woah, slow down Andrew," said George as he raised his sharp claws. "I'll answer all your questions. But I think you need some water. We wouldn't want a repeat of yesterday, would we?"
"No?" Andrew asked as he leaned back slightly.
George hopped off his bench and made his way toward the door. He pulled out a key seemingly from thin air before speaking again,
"Be on your best behavior while I make a trip to the kitchen. Don't go pulling anybody's tails."
A scowl overtook Andrew's blue face as George laughed carelessly. The Grovyle twisted the key in the doorknob until a satisfying click emanated from it. He promptly opened the door and stepped out of the room. Taking one last glance at Andrew, he smiled and shut the only exit.
Still tired and without much to do, Andrew climbed onto the table and lay down. His tail fins fell flat beneath his weight. The room was in absolute silence, which he took comfort in. His eyelids began to feel heavy as they stared at the old, peeling paint on the ceiling. Perfectly relaxed, he allowed his eyes to fall shut as a faint smile crept onto his face.
He waited to fall asleep, wanting to be released from the burden of consciousness. But wakefulness did not subside. Pushing himself up from the table, he opened his eyes. Something about his body felt wrong. Well, something about his body always felt a bit wrong since he had become a Pokemon, but it felt more off than usual.
Andrew scratched the back of his head fin and grunted with annoyance. Why is there always something wrong with me? He thought. Bringing his flipper up to his eyes, he noticed something peculiar. There was no sheen of liquid covering it. His flipper was entirely dry. Oh, he thought as his eyes widened. Y'know, maybe I could use some water. He shuddered as he came upon the realization that non-moist skin was now fiercely unnatural to him.
Without a medium to entertain himself, Andrew murmured under his breath and hopped off the table to pace around. The room wasn't any fun to look at either, with walls dulled with age and dirtied where they met the floor and ceiling, and tables with benches with no decoration or flair to them. A damp wood smell lingered in the air. The overpowering yellow glow of the oil lamps flickering above the tables began to grow repetitive and irritating. It's still the same damn room no matter how often I look at it, he thought. Bored out of his mind, he walked towards the door sitting in the corner.
Am I that desperate that I'm playing with a doorknob for fun? Andrew thought, almost pitying himself. Twisting the knob, he expected it to not budge. His eyes widened when he met no resistance and the door opened. Heart racing and adrenaline filling his veins, he poked his head through the door to see the dark hallway. He turned his head to the left and saw barren emptiness stretching seemingly forever. Relieved, he swung his head to the right. Just gotta make sure the coast is clear. He thought. Doing so revealed George standing inches away with a disappointed frown on his face.
"Damn it, Mister Marshtomp", he said with aggravation.
The Grovyle raised his left foot and forcefully kicked Andrew's bright orange stomach. Causing him to stumble onto the floor of the interrogation room. George calmly walked through the doorway, staring into Andrew's eyes as he kicked the door shut behind him. He placed a tray and bucket on the table before voicing his displeasure.
"What were you thinking? Do you want to get us both killed?" George yelled.
"My bad," Andrew murmured, as he stared at the creature looming over him.
"Look kid, we all make stupid mistakes, just don't do it again," he bitterly replied.
"S-Sure, will do," said Andrew with minuscule confidence.
He pushed himself up from the ground and climbed back onto a bench. George sat across from him, slumping his head on his left claw. Andrew took notice of the items which George had brought him, which lay across the table. He reached his flippers over and pulled a heavy bucket filled to the brim over to him. In one swift motion, he picked it up and emptied all of the water into his mouth. George's head shot up and his mouth fell agape as he witnessed the spectacle.
"Thanks, I needed that," Relieved, he wiped some excess water off his face.
George's eyes darted from side to side, focusing back on Andrew before speaking,
"You're welcome kid, but we have a lot to discuss."
Andrew pulled over his plate of food and stuffed a strange, large, purple berry into his mouth. A tiny piece slipped out, as he nodded his head in agreement.
"So, what do you know about criminal trials?" asked George.
"I know a lot."
"Prove it. Tell me, does the judge or jury decide if you are guilty?"
"The jury."
"No!" snapped George, "Juries were eliminated thirty years ago."
Andrew raised his right flipper and opened his mouth, only to be cut off by George.
"Do you know anything about criminal trials?" he repeated.
"Maybe?" Andrew asked.
George sighed and studied Andrew. His eyes yet again pierced at Andrew's very soul. They soon turned to the food which he was picking at. Andrew stuffed another berry in his mouth as he lazily eyed George. Suddenly, George smashed his claws on the table and took a loud, deep breath.
"Alright. Let's start from the beginning," he said, clutching his claws into fists.
Andrew leaned in closer, popping another berry into his mouth.
"Years ago, a new Pokemon of this realm rose to the throne-"
"Wait what?" Andrew said as he shook his head. "I'm gonna be sent to prison and you're giving me a history lesson?"
"I did say I would start from the beginning," interjected George.
"How much time do we have?" asked Andrew, annoyed.
"Enough time for me to tell the story," stated George, slamming the table with his claws.
"Look man, I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now," replied Andrew. He leaned back and attempted to place his short legs on the table, failing to do so as he began squirming them helplessly.
George snapped, leaping onto the table and pointing down at Andrew. "You know what, Marshtomp? I don't get to tell this story very often. Just let me do this."
"Ugh, fine," scoffed Andrew, as he rolled his narrow, orange eyes.
George hopped back onto his bench, "Anyways, as I was saying, a while ago this new king came to power."
Weird Pokemon history? Maybe this could be sort of interesting. Andrew thought, "How long ago?" he asked, leaning forward.
"Maybe two or three hundred years ago?"
Andrew reached over to his plate and grabbed multiple colorful, large berries. He stuffed them all into his mouth and chewed loudly, savoring each of their foreign, sweet juices.
"Do you mind?" sneered George, his eyes narrowing.
Andrew finished chewing his food. His heart began to beat faster as he saw a look of rage begin to conquer George's face.
"Sorry, but these prison berries are some of the best things I've ever had," Andrew said sincerely, trying to diffuse the situation, as George looked ready to explode.
"Well I hope you enjoyed them," George said sarcastically. "Now may I continue?"
Andrew placed a flipper on the table and leaned in further. "I'm not stopping you."
George shook his head and muttered under his breath, before continuing his story. "Okay, so the king fought some wars and even won a few of them. But a lot of Pokemon were killed, so now everyone hates him."
"Wouldn't it be, everyone hated him?" asked Andrew, smugly.
George rolled his eyes, "He's still alive, and everyone still hates him."
"How? Is he a vampire or something?"
George stared blankly at Andrew. He closed his eyes and sighed, before slapping his face.
"No kid, he's a Ninetails, not a vampire."
"Oh yeah, that makes more sense," Andrew said quietly, as he turned his head to the ground.
Wait a second, why am I putting up with this? He thought. Isn't he supposed to help me stay out of prison? Maybe he does want to kill me? Probably with boredom.
Putting a flipper to his forehead, Andrew questioned,
"What does this have to do with my trial?"
"Well, The king eliminated juries thirty years ago and gave all the legal power to a bunch of judges he appointed, and they all suck."
Andrew asked, "Couldn't you have just said that?" As he raised his flippers.
"I could, but where's the fun in that?"
Andrew's flippers then began to curl into as close to fists as he could bend them. Is this guy serious? He thought. I could get sent to prison, but this stupid Pokemon's priority is having fun? His eyes began to narrow and adrenaline began to pump through his veins. He slowly began to raise his flippers.
"Andrew, calm down," George began to raise his slick, sharp claws.
"Calm down? I'm going to die, and you want me to calm down? Am I going to have to spend the rest of my short life listening to your pointless stories?" Andrew yelled, his voice growing in volume. Crazed eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
His heart thrashed against his orange chest as if desperately trying to escape from his body with all its might. Breathing became a conscious task. He began pulling at his head fin with all his strength as he shook uncontrollably.
"I can't do this!" Andrew began to repeat loudly.
"Stop it, kid! You're gonna hurt yourself," pleaded George.
Not like you'd care if I did. Andrew thought. He continued viciously, pulling at his head fin. Tears began to well in his eyes as the pain overwhelmed him. I have to be human again, I need to be human again, let me be human again! He screamed within his own mind. The tears began to stream down his face. Out of habit, he raised a flipper to wipe them. Removing it revealed that George was no longer in front of him.
Suddenly, Andrew's perspective began to shift quickly, as he felt his body move downwards without his consent. In an instant, the wooden table connected with his jaw. A sharp pain shot through his body, especially in his sensitive, already maimed, head fin. His flippers were grabbed tightly and pinned against his back. George's claws dug into his newly moistened skin. Did that Grovyle just attack me? He panicked in his mind.
"Let go of me," Andrew yelled, vigorously.
"Not unless you promise to stop hurting yourself, kid."
"I said let go," Andrew repeated loudly. He thrashed aggressively against George's strong grip, failing to break free.
"Damn it kid, do you want to get us killed or not? Quiet down," said George, hushed.
"Maybe I'll shut up if you let go," sneered Andrew.
"Fine, but if you do anything else that's stupid I'll make sure you never see the ocean again," George whispered as he released Andrew from his grasp.
Guess I'll have to be on my best behavior. Andrew mocked himself in his head. His erratic breathing began to normalize, as well as his overactive heart. He raised his head from the wooden table. To his dismay, his flippers and head fin pulsed with so much pain that he could feel his heartbeat through them. George strutted to the bench across from him and took a seat, clasping his claws down on the table.
"So, now that the fun is over, shall we discuss your case?"
The one which you're probably going to try to sabotage? Sure thing Georgie! Andrew thought.
"Not like we have anything better to do," he scoffed.
"Well, I'm gonna be honest with you kid, you're probably fucked," George said dryly.
Andrew sarcastically asked, "Aren't you supposed to assure me that everything is going to be okay and I'm going to get through this?"
"Don't worry, dear Mister Marshtomp! We're gonna get through this together," George said in a high-pitched voice.
Is this seriously the last person I am going to talk to before I die? Andrew pondered. God, take me already!
"Is there no chance of me being found innocent?"
"Well… Maybe we could try running with the story that the Kecleon offered the food to you for free? I have no idea how we'd prove it, but it's better than nothing," George put his claws behind his head and leaned on them.
Andrew put a flipper to his left gill and pushed down lightly on it. It caused a strange sensation to run through the left side of his head, making it vibrate a little. Finding the feeling unpleasant, he placed his flipper back on the table.
"Do you think that defense would actually work?"
"Nope," George responded nonchalantly, "But it's better than nothing."
The noise of the old door creaking filled the room. Andrew and George twisted their heads back. A Pokemon Andrew registered as a Dewott made its presence known, as it stepped into the bright interrogation room. It put its arms to its hips and stuck its chin up towards the ceiling.
"We're up George," he said with sickening confidence.
George turned back to Andrew, "We definitely had time for another story."
I am definitely going to die.