Poké Wars: The Remembrance

by Agent of Chaos 112

Unlike most people, I do not recall that which preceded this apocalypse. That day so long ago, separated by time and lives and living, is beyond my grasp. I cannot call the day that I do not recall, that I cannot identify, the day my world ended. There is only here and now-and perhaps when I close my eyes and rest my head, I can hope for a future where I can open them again.

29. The End?

And then they all died- the end.

Naw. It's been nine years since I published the first chapter of this story, and I have no intention of stopping until the end.

Long story short, this story is being rewritten. The first chapters of the rewrite should drop this time next year, around the tenth anniversary of this story's publication. Seems as good a time as ever.

Long story longer: it's been a long time since I've started this project, and my writing, priorities, and perspective has changed since then. When I started writing, I wasn't quite playing it by ear, but I lacked clear vision. While not bad, it turned out somewhat disjointed, meandering, too long, and bad.

Comparing to the other pokewars stories, this story, which is about half to two-thirds of the way done, is about twice the length of most stories posted by most of the other authors in this community. Therefor, the story will be broken up into a trilogy. The writing will hopefully be better, and have better pacing. Each location will hopefully also be better fleshed out, particularly Goldenrod city.

By next year, the first part of the trilogy should be complete, and then each chapter can be released regularly while my next work is in the work. All told, it would then hopefully then be fully released within the year, in smaller, more manageable books.

Janus finished his Pokewars story, kudos to him for it by the way. Cool stuff in the works in his end, if you can read Spanish. So to join the ranks of folks that have actually finished their stories I'll cheat a little bit.

Here is a bit of the first chapter:

August 17th

…Red

…Cold

…Green

…Wet

…Red

…Light

…Green

…Loud

…Red

…Red

…Red

The pitter patter of rain pelted my skin, wetting my lips as they brushed against the cold asphalt. My tongue tasted like salt, the hair on my head and the clothes I wore clung to my skin as if glued. What skin wasn't sticking to my clothing tingled, pinching upwards in a patchwork of small, frantic armies marching across my hands and face. A heavy weight pressed against my back through to my chest, pushing against any air that tried to find its way into my lungs.

A thin, deliberate stream of air leaked from my nose, as I rallied my strength to take a heavy mouthful of air-

-I choked.

The air was pungent, a horrid cocktail of assaults on the senses. Iron, bleach, smoke, burnt meat, more- all raked through my throat like sandpaper. My body convulsed with ragged coughs as the pungent air came up as quickly as it went down. My shaky arms pushed up from beneath me, taking some of the pressure off my chest-

'Quiet! No coughing! Choke it if you have to!'

The command was less a thought than a feeling, and I folded, biting hard into my lip to arrest the noise. With one hand I grabbed at the collar of my t-shirt, raising it to my mouth. The wet green cotton was uncomfortable as I breathed through it, but mitigated the harsh air, if only slightly.

With my coughing arrested, I looked around at my surroundings-

Red

Green

The only light ahead of me came from a dilapidated traffic light, swinging from one side of the street ahead to the other against the backdrop of the dark and rainy night sky. Tightly packed buildings flanked either side of the street, along with streetlights that shone dimly or blinked or merely sparked. A single tree stood to the right side, its skin charred black with a long, gnarled scar running down its center, and its leaves shed in favor of a crown of patchwork smoldering flames. A city block- but what…?

I looked down and felt another wave of confusion wash over me. I had four arms? Two sleeves hung between the two arms I was using to prop myself up, folded over one another. Four arms? No, that was ridiculous. I was seeing doub…le? My left arm raced upwards, patting at the two stray appendages. No, they were firm. Wet. Cool. I turned the ends upwards- hands, pale. Stiff. I shifted my weight, moved my hand up the sleeves. Elbows. My hand snaked over my shoulder- more shoulders. Then further up. A neck? I paused.

My hands cupped around it- cold, still.

My neck spun, threatening to snap from the force.

Pale eyes stared back at me.

My right arm collapsed under me, knocking us both against the ground. I felt a chin dig into the back of my head as we hit the ground. A scream almost tore from my throat-

'QUIET!'

-Stifled at the last moment by my hand covering my mouth, almost as if on its own. I spun on my back, attempting to swing the body off of me-

My muffled wailing intensified as I was struck by the sight behind me.

Bodies stood in streets, limbs and backs contorted like gnarled trees. Necks twisted and bent, heads burnt like charcoal or absent, necks of bloody stumps sprouting bone. Others stood upright in statuesque perfection, arms outstretched, phones and poketechs raised in the air, looks of awe painted across faces along with strips of burns and decaying flesh.

Further up the street the scene twisted, cars along the side of the road illuminated the street with roaring flames. Limbs were scattered about the streets, painted red and black with gore and soot. What corpses remained whole were marred with great boils and craters. Skulls sagged like overripe fruit.

My screams quieted as I attempted to scurry away on my back, only to be held back by the pair of arms wrapped around my neck.

'GET! OFF! OF! ME!"

My hands raced up to the offending appendages, attempting to pull them off and away. The fingers were cold and tight- the grip of death held her to me-the fingers had to go. I grabbed a piece of broken asphalt, and swung it down on the cold fingers, making contact with a hard crack. I made to swing again-

'STOP!'

A sharp pain shot from my head to my fingertips.

'STOP!'

The asphalt fell from my fingers, my hands now raced up to my head as the pain intensified. A slight whimper crept through my throat.

'QUIET!'

The pain faded, leaving a sensation of pins and needles around my scalp. My fingers crept down again, tugging more desperately at the death-grip.

'STOP!'

The pain returned with a vengeance, wracking at my chest and pulling at my eyes. My pulls grew more frantic, more desperate. The pressure on my skull built, the pins and needles becoming jolts of lightning as they raced down my arms. My eyes squeezed shut, my jaw locked in single-minded determination.

'STOP!'

Again, I pulled.

'GET! OFF! OF! M-'

'ST-'

'GETOFFOFMEGETOF-'

If you've somehow stuck through with me all these years, thank you for your patience. Hopefully come next year I'll have produced something more worthy of your time.