#30 Generator
"H-hey…?"
Sabrina took a step toward him, doubtful. The man didn't speak, simply formed a small, tired smile. A smile that knew a lot, that perhaps knew it all.
Suddenly, speaking became horribly difficult for her.
"W-we can't stop here, they'll reach us any s-"
All conscious thought left Sabrina as she saw him fall as though in slow motion, one knee giving in first, then another. She jumped to catch him without hesitation. His head was inches from hitting the ground when she slid beneath him, acting as his cushion.
"He… hehe… I can feel my face going all red. Having a girl stop my fall like that…"
A twisting, gnashing horror tore through Sabrina's entrails, as though they were being devoured from the inside, leaving her empty, hollow.
She didn't understand. Her eyes studied him from head to toe; he was a bit bruised and scratched, sure, but none of his wounds were that serious. But his hand… he was pressing it against his side… The Nidoqueen's slash? It'd been barely a scratch, nothing that could-
Her eyes widened with the cold, cruel realization.
"Do you see now, Sabrina? At the most critical moment, when it truly mattered, you doubted him! You chose to believe me! And now it's too late, no matter what you do!"
The young man formed that sad, apologetic smile again.
"The… poison…" Sabrina muttered.
Panic flooded her nerves. This-this level of desperation was foreign to her; she wasn't used to being worried, to fear, not even for her own life. Indifference toward everything had become second nature to her. A shield to keep her safe. Devoid of it…
"It's alright," she said, trying to sound and appear calm despite every inch of her body shaking like a leaf. "It's alright. I know someone who's good at dealing with poisons. She won't be happy to have customers at this hour, and it might not be… the safest option, but it's our best shot right now."
"Sabrina…"
Not giving him a chance to retort, she grabbed his arm and threw it around her shoulders, forcing him to his feet after a few failures. Her small, weak body shook under the man's weight. Regardless, she put one foot in front of the other, again and again.
"It's… Everything will be alright," she reassured him in between wheezes. The cold was getting sharper, more painful. She didn't remember any Saffron colder than this one. "It's not too far-"
The world turned around. She caught a flash of light off the corner of her eye, and then something burning and weightless slammed into her from behind. All the air left her lungs. She was lifted off her feet, vision swimming, her body rolling a few times on the ground before finally crashing in the middle of the street.
Her senses were in disarray. Numb, pained. Through cloudy eyes she noticed a few pairs of boots in front of her, and the familiar sound of derisive laughter and Pokemon barking.
"We kill the pretty boy first, right?" she heard with sudden clarity, and saw a hand close around a familiar, wild mess of black hair, lifting the man with the cross' head off the pavement.
No…
Even as a brat, Sabrina had known what she was. She'd never known other psychics in real life -it wasn't a particularly common gift- but she'd read plenty about them; their talents and skills, what they eventually learned to do with that incredible power. And… even as a brat, she'd realized she was quite inferior to them.
By the time most psychics could levitate small furniture, she still struggled to bend a spoon. She'd tried at first. To train hard, to shorten the gap between reality and expectations, what could be considered 'normal' for one of her kind, but her lack of progress quickly frustrated her. Soured her toward the whole ordeal. It drove her further and further away from her own nature, and brought her closer toward what she was actually good at: Pokemon battles.
In that moment, as she rose to her feet, Sabrina's own voice sounded strange in her ears. If she'd seen herself in a mirror, her eyes blank and expressionless, engulfed in psychic blue flames, her hair flowing freely behind her like tendrils of darkness, she probably wouldn't have recognized herself.
"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"
In an instant, three of the men surrounding them -one of them their soon to have been executioner- were enveloped by a blue-ish light and then thrown against the nearest wall with inhuman force, the sound of shattering bones echoing like gunshots in the night.
Sabrina stumbled forward, head low. Her clothes swayed with the wind, covered in the same blue flames.
A single word, spoken by one of the surviving men, managed to break the silence.
"M… Monster…"
#31 Broken
The remaining men took a step back without realizing it. Though they'd never been friends with the Gym leader nor exchanged more than a hello or a superfluous chat, they'd worked together for over three years. They'd sat on the same table, drunk the same drinks.
Even then, they had no qualms about killing her if ordered to, but they'd never expected to see…
The girl, eyes still ablaze with unbridled psychic energy, pointed at one of them. The man shot like a bullet toward a nearby lamp post, his body bending unnaturally, the sound of the impact wet and visceral.
Various clicks were heard. The sound of Pokeballs opening; the flashes of light, and the figures they released onto the cold night, finally brought Sabrina back to reality. Her eyes returned to normal, and the blue flames surrounding her body disappeared.
"It's… you," she whispered in awe. "A-agh!" A pain like a nail driving into her skull assaulted her all at once, the recoil from her reckless use of her own powers. "Ghh…"
The remaining men had freed half a dozen Pokemon around her. There was a proud, serious Noctowl, an old, wise Hypno, a Haunter, a Starmie, a hefty-looking Slowbro, and a Kadabra.
All of them… hers. The Gym's Pokemon, the ones that had fought countless battles and survived countless dangers alongside her.
This… this is a miracle, the Gym leader thought, unable to believe it. She wasn't used to such brimming, unbridled hope. Only seconds ago we had no chance of escaping, but with them… Forget escaping, we could take the whole fucking city if we wanted to!
Without hesitation, she started walking toward the Kadabra -the first Pokemon she'd ever fought alongside in the Gym- and tried to speak to him telepathically. The beast's narrow, indolent eyes followed her every movement without blinking.
'First we have to teleport somewhere his wounds can be treated-'
"Psybeam."
The multi-colored beam of light hit Sabrina full on in the stomach, sending her tumbling a few desperate steps back. In her shock, her exhausted brain came to a realization. That flash, that feeling… It was the same attack that had caught her from behind only minutes ago.
"W… What?"
Slowly, coughing along the way, she raised her head to look at her Pokemon again.
"This is a joke, right?"
"Psycho Cut."
Her shoulder burst with a sudden spray of blood, violent enough to stain her neck and cheek. Sabrina stumbled back, dizzy, pained beyond belief.
"Wh…"
She knew them, better than anyone else. Knew every one of their scars, their quirks, every fighting style, every talent and weakness… The Noctowl's blind eye, Kadabra's surprisingly fast Teleport, Starmie's reflexes, Slowbro's bad leg… Every battle fought shoulder to shoulder, every brush with death… All that trust in one another, as blind as could be…
She tried to rise again, eyes still wide from shock.
That purple, glowing edge materialized from Kadabra's spoon again, and she swore she could feel it upon her skin-
Something jumped in between them. The man with the cross, more dead than alive, rose to shield her from the attack, and the spray of blood that burst from his chest filled Sabrina's vision in its entirety.
#32 God's Love
The man with the cross slumped weightlessly next to Sabrina, having used the last of his strength to shield her from that attack. Almost in a trance, she looked down at him. He wheezed painfully, choking on a mouthful of blood, the rest pooling beneath his chest as he shuddered with the cold…
Her gaze returned to her old Pokemon, who met it with the apathetic coolness of living weapons. They'd… they'd really forgotten it all. Or maybe they'd never… Maybe it'd only been an illusion, a lie.
All the time they'd spent together…
She saw them approach, heard voices as though at the other end of a long tunnel.
"Maybe if we take him alive Mr. Azure can have a little fun with him. I'm sure he'd like to ask him a few questions."
"Fuck, do something about the girl first. Don't want her going all Jedi on us again."
Sabrina barely heard -past the rush of blood in her ears- as a hand lowered itself toward her, but before it could touch her a blinding flash of purple lit up the night.
Pushed by an invisible force, the Noctowl on the man's shoulders was thrown aside like a ragdoll, leaving behind a handful of feathers. The man soon followed. And then the Hypno, who despite managing the hit better than the other two still hit the ground hard, rolling over a few times.
"What!? Who the fuck is-!?" One of the men cried out, looking all around in a panic.
"There!" cried another, seeing the flash of light come from behind them, taking Starmie out of commission. "It came from there, come on!"
Several hurried steps, furious screams. A flash, then another.
And then silence.
Sabrina was unsure of how much time passed. A couple of minutes most likely; the blood loss had left her somewhat lethargic, but a weak cough next to her returned -with a jolt- the light to her eyes.
Run. We have to run, I have to… get him out of here!
She didn't even stop to think about the miracle that had saved them. Kneeling down, she threw the man's arm over her shoulder again and -letting out a raw, guttural scream- pulled him up with monstrous effort, putting one foot in front of the other. Their clothes were drenched in blood. Sabrina barely made it five steps before her knees gave out, sending them both to the frozen asphalt.
"Gh… no, no! Sh… it…"
Despite fighting with everything she had to lift them both, Sabrina failed. In a second they were both on the ground again, panting furiously.
"Sabrina…"
"Shut up!"
"Sabrina-"
"NO! I can… I can do it! Just shut up and wait! I'll get us out of here…"
"..."
"I'll… SHIT!"
Her fist slammed against the ground, though it was so weak it barely made a noise.
"...They'll be on us soon."
"I know! I… I know."
A brief silence. Wind whistled through the space between buildings.
"Could you… search in the pocket of my jacket?" the man asked then, barely a whisper.
She obeyed, unable to give it much thought, and furrowed her bloodied brow in confusion when she pulled out a small knife, identical to the one the man had used to immobilize Azure and kill those men in the Gym.
"I'm not good with these types of weapons," she said, frustrated. "And it's not gonna be any good against Pokemon, in any case."
Another beat of silence.
"It's not for them," was the simple answer.
Sabrina slowly turned her head toward him, eyes widening.
"Heh… When my little brother finds out about this… I'm sure he'll hate me."
"W-what? You're… You don't mean-You c-can't expect me to…!"
The man's pale, frigid hand closed around her shaking fingers with the strength of a vice, centering her. Slowly aiming the knife.
"This poison's… not something I can be saved from at this point. You know that, right?"
"You don't know that!" she bellowed. "This woman's an expert on poisons, if we can just reach her…"
The man's black eyes changed, they were pleading now.
"Don't… don't let them take me, please…"
Trembling uncontrollably, a deep, gnashing fury took hold of Sabrina "You son of a bitch… After doing… after doing… this," she said, unable to find a word for the change she'd suffered since he'd arrived. "You think I'm gonna let you die!? Like hell!"
"If you stay with me, you'll die too… and that's…"
Sabrina opened her mouth, but he interrupted her before she could say what they both knew she was thinking.
"DON'T YOU DARE SAY YOU DON'T CARE!"
The scream clearly took a lot out of him, because the man immediately suffered a fit of coughing, wet and bloody. His voice much weaker, he fought to keep talking.
"Before them… I'd rather the last thing I see is your face, even if y-you're not gonna cry for me, ha…"
The blade of the knife shook violently beneath Sabrina's fingers. Wrapped around them, the man's hand kept tugging it toward his own chest, but she resisted with everything she had.
"For giving you this sort of burden… I'm sorry. But, one last time, let me…" He smiled. "Let me be a little selfish… yeah?"
Sabrina's eyes fell closed. She stopped seeing, hearing. Her hands gave out. And as the knife fell, a brief scene flashed before her eyes. Gone were the night and the blood and the frozen wind; she saw herself sitting beneath that oak tree alongside him, surrounded by piles and piles of books, the lethargic cries of Pokemon humming in the branches above…
She almost didn't hear the sound of the blade burying in his flesh.
#33 Epiphany
"Ah… I almost forgot."
The voice of the man bleeding out on the asphalt was faint. He brought a hand to his neck with great difficulty, and a metallic jingle resounded in the night. From his bloodied fingers hung a silver cross, gleaming, spotless. It didn't stay that way for long, as thin droplets of red soon began dripping down the chain.
"This… is for you. I know-I know you don't believe and… you must think it's dumb and sappy but, like this… maybe I can keep protecting you after I'm gone, eh?"
And he smiled. Sabrina, her head hanging low, extended her hand without realizing and felt the cold metal against her.
"Haha, what a mess, huh? I couldn't… couldn't even hold hands with you, though… I'm sure you're not the type anyway, heh."
A white, frozen speck fell on top of their interlaced fingers. Snow.
"You're free now, but y'know… that life you told me about, I would've loved to see it… with you. Ha… Haha… What's with that face? Are you sad?"
That comment was the last straw; Sabrina couldn't keep it in anymore.
"O-of course I am!"
"...Promise me. From now on, don't ever stop. Break through those walls. You have… to see that horizon, no matter what. Can you promise me that?"
The frozen specks of white were raining upon them now, piling up all around them, atop their clothes, atop the puddle of blood growing at their feet. Sabrina nodded, almost automatically.
The man's tired, near-sightless eyes looked up at the night sky. And a nostalgic smile formed on his lips.
"Look," he said. "It's snowing."
"It'd be nice if it snowed. Then again, it hasn't snowed in Saffron for over fifty years, so…" She realized what she was saying and tensed up. "I don't really care, not like it makes any difference to me," she quickly added.
"Ha! You are a brat, see? You wanna play in the snow, don't you?"
"H…hey," Sabrina muttered, an edge of desperation to her voice. Her hands were trembling. "What-what I said at the Gym earlier today, that… that I didn't care about you, that was… all a lie, you know?"
Silence was her only answer.
"...Hey?"
His cold fingers no longer applied pressure against hers.
"You… you heard me, right?"
She was shaking so hard the jingling of the chain was all she could hear.
The wildest, most ridiculous thoughts piled up on her brain one after another. She wondered, against all logic, if there'd be a way to turn back the clock, to save him… any way, anything.
Kneeling over his body, both of her hands pressed so tightly against the cross it hurt, Sabrina lowered her head and spoke, caring not for how ludicrous and pathetic she sounded.
"Please, if you're there… if you're really there, please, I-I beg you… bring him back. I don't care what I have to do, please, I'd… I'd give anything, I'D GIVE ANYTHING!"
The scream tore her throat apart. She hadn't even noticed the tears falling, crystalline, over her bloodied cheeks. After a few long seconds, her expression shifted. Twisted into pure, boiling anger, she let out another scream and punched the blanket of snow beneath her, burying the cross deep into it.
Would it…
Would it be so bad… to lay down and die here, alongside him?
#34 (Why do we) Pity the Dead
Sabrina thought she heard voices in the distance. Her eyes opened again. She'd almost forgotten -or maybe she simply didn't care anymore- that she was still being pursued. It was only a matter of time before another group of Azure's men was sent after her, after the first never returned.
"From now on, don't ever stop."
She gripped the cross with every ounce of strength she could muster and, trembling, unstable, rose to her feet. Limping, she walked toward the nearest of the corpses produced from her brief explosion of psychokinetic prowess, and picked up the first Pokeball she could see on his person as the distant voices grew nearer and nearer. She started walking as fast as she could, one hand over the cut on her shoulder. Trying not to look back.
The snow storm had evolved into an all-out blizzard, and the girl's feet sank to the ankles in snow with every step she took. At first, she managed to cover some ground. But the persistent blood-loss, combined with the growing difficulty of every step against the growing blanket of snow covering the streets, made her progress unbearably slow and languid.
Yet she didn't feel the cold. Didn't feel the pain. She felt nothing except a crushing, all-consuming exhaustion. Defeat.
If there were a god, this would've never… They wouldn't have let him… Why? Why did it have to be him?
No… it was my fault. If I'd believed him from the start, if I hadn't doubted, I could've blocked that attack. I… I could've pushed him away before… I could've…
But even those thoughts began to dwindle, going off one by one like the lights of the street lamps around her, blanketing her in that stark, unbreakable silence.
The snow reached up to her calves now; making any kind of progress was nearly impossible.
A priest, eh? Let's see what he's capable of.
She stuck a hand inside the box and pulled out a Pokeball. Her foe did the same, never dropping that irritating smile.
"Let's have a nice, clean battle," he exclaimed, bowing respectfully.
One could say she walked thoughtlessly, simply putting one foot in front of the other. Eyes empty, lifeless.
"Aren't you a little young to be smoking?" he asked disapprovingly.
"Aren't you a little old to be believing in god?" she spat back.
She didn't even know where she was going. There was nothing but snow and the dark, cloudy sky.
"Y-you… backstabbing, traitorous…!" He seriously looked on the verge of losing it from anger. "What kind of trainer does something like that!? You're a disgrace to all Gym leaders!"
All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing, and the wet thump of her feet sinking into snow.
"What's this?" she asked. The can was pleasantly warm.
"It's called coffee," replied the man with the cross, sitting alongside her on one of the hanging steel beams, struggling to open his own. They were alone in an abandoned construction site west of the Gym. The sun was starting to rise. "You're drunk. No wonder you're often mistaken for a man; you drink more than one."
Why did she flee? What was the point…?
"I couldn't attend our duel today," he explained. "And I promised I'd challenge you every day, didn't I?"
Had it all been real? Had it… really happened?
"Then that means… you can, y'know…"
He pressed a finger against his temple, screwing up his face like a prune; an expression so stupid and childish that the Gym leader could barely keep the corners of her mouth from perking up.
Yes… this feeling, this pain… was authentic. It could only belong to him.
"Then teach me."
The man wasn't smiling anymore as he took a step toward her, staring straight into her eyes. And in that breathless moment, his usual childishness fell from his expression like a mask cracking, and beneath was the face of a more mature, deathly serious man.
"I want to see it too," he said. "If what your eyes see is truly that beautiful… then I too…"
The cross hung from her free hand, stained with blood and covered in snow crystals.
"I'm trying, okay?" she complained, grabbing a cigarette from her pack. "I never said I was good at this."
"You clearly aren't," he said, immediately swiping the cig from her mouth.
Tired… She was so, so tired.
She didn't get to finish. Her vision darkened, and all of a sudden she felt her face pressed against the fabric of the man's shirt. His arms were tight around her, shaking.
"...It's not like you to be this chatty," he said in a low, serene voice. "Shut up for a little bit, okay?"
Her footsteps ceased. She couldn't keep going. She would be buried by the storm in this spot; it would swallow her entire existence, erasing every mistake, every sin...
Then, with that thought, the wind ceased. The storm stilled unnaturally.
"Is that all?" asked a woman's voice, both near and far at the same time. "If you're really 'me', then strive to do a little better than that."
#35 To Another Abyss
"This is where the trail of blood ends, so that buried over here must b-HEY! What'd grandma say? Don't touch dead people!"
A boy no older than twelve tugged at his younger sister's arm with disgust, while a third kid approached with a long branch in hand, poking the corpse a couple times. There was no reaction.
There were no signs of last night's brutal blizzard save for the snow still on the ground. The sky was a pristine blue and the sun shone with no cloud to hide behind. The trio of children -all siblings- were badly dressed for the weather, not to mention dirty from playing in the mud and snow all day. By pure coincidence, one of them had spotted a dried-up trail of blood. They followed it toward a large tree, and a person buried in its shadow beneath the snow.
Only a speck of black fabric could be seen under the pile of white.
"Must be an old man that didn't make it home last night," the older one guessed.
After doubting for a moment, the siblings knelt down and began to dig up the poor bastard. Under the sunlight filtering through the leaves above, they noticed that their arm was quite skinny; maybe a child or-?
"It's a woman," muttered the one with the branch. "Young."
"What happened to her?" asked their sister.
"Maybe… she sat down to rest, and never opened her eyes again."
A beat of silence. Then, the older one noticed something.
"That hat… hey, did you hear? Earlier, the radio. There was something last night, yeah? A fight or…"
His brother nodded. "They said something about treason. The Gym leader… No, not the one from T.V." he cleared up, seeing the momentary ray of hope in his sister's eyes. "The 'other' Sabrina… they said she escaped after making a mess. A lot of people died… I think the mafia was looking for her."
"Maybe she's…"
Wondering, the older boy placed the branch beneath the girl's chin, lifting up her face a little. Yet to their disappointment, she looked like a perfectly ordinary girl.
All three of them, however, screamed when she opened her eyes suddenly.
"G-G-GRANDMA! Go get grandma!"
The first thing Sabrina noted upon waking up was that she was freezing.
She pushed herself up as much as she could. Beneath her lay an old, torn-up sofa; her arms, one of her shoulders and most of her torso was covered in multiple layers of bandages. Her forehead, too. Her face and cheeks were covered in band-aids, and a handful of old, dirty jackets were piled up on top of her upper body, trying to shield her from the cold.
Sunlight filtered through a window overhead. She tried to sit up, but the moment she put weight on her elbow she let out a grunt of pain.
…I'm alive, she noted, indifferent.
There were footsteps. Slowly, she turned to look at the person under the sill of the door.
"Good heavens!"
The old, chubby woman ran back toward the kitchen, making a whole lot of racket.
She closed her eyes; maybe she'd be able to sleep a little m-
"Here, girl! Please eat something, you're all skin and bones!"
The woman was by her side before she could complete the thought, carrying a tray full of what little food she could gather. Bread, cheese, even a bit of fruit. Before she could even think about whether she felt hunger or not, more footsteps rang. A trio of little kids surrounded her, looking both excited and scared at the same time.
"You're on the outskirts of Saffron, in case you're wondering," the oldest-looking one declared proudly. "I brought you here on my back!"
"Bleh, don't lie," the other boy muttered under his breath.
"I looked after you all night!" the smallest girl said excitedly, trying to make way through his siblings.
Sabrina stared at them listlessly, the people who'd saved her life. Yet she felt no gratitude toward them, toward her own luck. She felt nothing. Behind her eyes lie nothing but a boundless emptiness. Something had been lost. Something irreplaceable.
"By the way, this must be yours," the old woman said, taking a glittering silver cross from her pocket. Sabrina grabbed it as she finished siding her own hoodie over her body. "You were holding onto it so tightly! We thought we'd need a crowbar to pry it off, haha! Oh, and this too, of course…"
To her surprise, she was also given the Pokeball she'd stolen from one of her captors. And as she took it, she glanced at its surface for the first time, gleaming the silhouette of a small, triangular Pokemon inside, looking up at her with happy round eyes.
Voices. Outside, faint at first yet slowly growing higher in volume, clearer. There were many of them. Sabrina didn't move. What did it matter?
The old woman and the kids exchanged a quick, silent look. Sabrina scanned their expressions with an empty gaze.
She understood, of course. Such an old woman, taking care of three young kids? They were clearly dirt poor too. Anyone in their shoes would've been interested in the reward Azure had surely dangled over the whole town for her capture. She couldn't blame them.
The footsteps grew louder. Someone was knocking furiously at the door.
Not knowing why, Sabrina looked past the window at her right. It must've shown the side opposite to the door, because there was no one there, there was nothing but snow, hung clothes drying in the sun and a few dead plants. Yet something caught her eye. In between the dried-up shrubs, barely rising above the snow, a minuscule green sprout fought to receive even a single ray of sunlight.
The girl's eyes grew wide.
"Can you promise me that?"
It was like something burst inside of her.
In a flash of movement, she jumped to her feet and grabbed the small girl by the shoulder, turning her around and pressing the knife from the tray of food against her throat. Her only Pokeball opened behind her. The small, triangular creature inside jumped toward the window, shattering it with its body, opening a way out.
The little girl let out a choked cry. Sabrina pressed the edge of the knife tighter against her jugular.
"Move or scream and I'll slice her throat open," she said with a serene voice. The family knew it was no boast. There was absolutely no doubt in those cold green eyes.
Three more knocks on the door. Sabrina didn't wait; she kicked the girl forward, on top of her grandmother, and grabbed a piece of bread from the tray before running toward the window and jumping out, hearing the distant sound of the door being brought down. Screams, angry and fearful in equal measure.
And she ran. She ran as fast as her legs could manage. Without thinking, barely stopping to breathe. She ran until she could hear nothing but the rush of the wind and her own furious breathing. She ran perhaps for a full hour, until her body gave out and she collapsed face-first into the snow.
It took her long minutes to bring her heart under control, her muscles loudly complaining all the way. When she finally rose to her feet, she noticed the silhouette of the whole city in the distance. Somehow, she'd made her way toward the peak of a distant hill.
…Now what?
First off, she'd need to get as far away from Saffron as she could; Kanto too, if possible. She made a mental list of her belongings. She had a single change of clothes, a weak-looking Snorunt, a kitchen knife and a piece of bread.
She had no idea what her next steps would be, but one certainty burned bright inside her. She would stop for no one, for nothing, ever again. Humans, Pokemon… to stay alive, she would use both if the need arose.
With one last glance over her shoulder, she captured as much as she could of Saffron behind her eyes before turning around, throwing the silver cross around her neck, and walking away. The Snorunt followed closely behind, hopping happily along.
Shit… I'm gonna need some cash.