This is a deconstruction-heavy set of stories involving teenagers in the Pokemon world. There will be standard trainer fic violence and some swearing. Some files and chapters will have their own warnings attached.
Prologue: Four Stories
The winter air rushed in and out of his lungs, mingling with the smoke inside them as John rapidly inhaled, his eyes filled with panic. He could no longer hear chanting behind him, but his own heartbeat might have covered it up by now. Glancing around the forest, he saw an ash tree with a lightning burn. Good. He knew where he was now. Umber was miles behind him. His shoulders relaxed and his breathing slowed. No longer concerned with imminent death, his thoughts shifted to sin.
Return was the moral option. Reverend Xavier knew what was right and he would end the sin in John’s life if given the chance. Then he could be a good person and spared from eternal fire. But when he glanced in front of him, his resolve sapped away. The girl he had taken with him was still coated in rust red. Some time ago, he didn’t know how long exactly, he had stopped to treat her wounds. She would be fine, though. John was sure of that. But if he came back now, well, that was a different story. In Umber, there was only one way to deal with witches. Kill them.
-.- . -. -. . -.. -.-- .... -.-- .- -.-. .. -. - ....
Gela Esprit never double-locked her door and hadn’t owned a Clefairy doll since she was a little girl. Yet when she got back from her evening swim, the door was locked and a strange pink plush greeted her with wide eyes. She sighed and pulled out her watch and cell phone. “Kodo, scan for bugs. New bugs.” A whirring sound emanated from her timepiece, so she put it down and called her mother as she loaded her computer.
The phone was answered on the third ring. A new record. “Hey, Gela. How’s it going?”
“Same as always. Get up, do some coding, find the meaning of life, talk to my volleyball and maybe the skipper. Standard stuff for living alone on a remote island.” Her OS had loaded. Now she just needed to wait on Kodo.
“Sarcastic as ever, I see.” The traditional four seconds of silence elapsed. Neither could think of what to say in just three, and five would be unthinkable. “I take you aren’t just calling for small talk.”
“No, I’m not. What’d I do to piss off the boss this time?”
“My lair got a visitation today. No robbery, just a few reminders that they’d been there. Probably some bugs, but those are easy enough to take care of.”
“I haven’t heard of anything. Same awkward situation as usual around here. I’ll ask around, though. See if I can find anything.”
“Thanks.” A notification flashed on Gela’s monitor. “I think Kodo’s got something. I’ll get back to you later.”
“Alright, see you soon. Love you.”
“I love you too, mom.” A buzz as the phone disconnected mingled with the stench of lies. Gela scanned the message on her screen. “Alright, disable all but one of the bugs. We’ll destroy them later. In the meantime, let’s see who exactly wants to bother us from the Sevii Islands.”
--- .-.. .. ...- . .-. -- .- .-. ...
“Six months ago, Ronaldo Wyvern was just your average teenage boy from the country. Today he stands at the gates of the Indigo Plateau, and many analysts predict he could go all the way. Who is he? How did he do what so many only dream of? Today we will explore the origins and rise of this phenomenal trainer, potentially the future regional Champion. As always, no detail will remain unmentioned, no view unaired. Welcome to the Cinnabar Factor.”
The TV shut off as a teenage boy stood in front of it, his Graveler nervously standing back as he fumed. “Why? The kid breezes through all the gyms, gets the media to fall in love with him, and then goes to fight off a few legendaries without breaking a sweat. How? We’ve fought strong trainers before, but once he starts battling, poof. Nothing. Pretty soon everything we can muster is defeated. Military grade strategy? Useless. Hundreds of hours of training? Useless. Gym badges? Useless. How on earth does he do it? It’s like he can warp reality or something!”
Graveler ducked as a remote flew over his head. It wouldn’t hurt him, but the device might get shattered. That would just make his trainer angrier. “I swear, one day we’re going to beat Ronaldo Wyvern. Forget being the best. Just got to be better than that punk.”
.-.. . -. --- .-. . -.-. .-. .- -. .
The boat swayed rhythmically on the waves, lifted and lowered by the gentle swells scraping the surface of the immeasurably large ocean. Inside the vessel, dwarfed by the natural forces around it, soft music permeated the room, seeping from a violin at the front of the room. As if shadowing the dance of nature around them, pairs of humans swayed to and fro, mindful of nothing but each other, the music, and the gentle rocking of the boat. Except for one girl, who was thinking about something quite different. “The incinerator,” she whispered.
“What?” Her partner momentarily stumbled, but quickly made up for it. “What did you say?”
“The incinerator, of course. No one expects someone to hide in the incinerator. But if it’s large enough and could be turned off... and then the ashes could be a red herring. The police, readers too, would assume that it was used to burn evidence, but maybe it was just used to burn fingerprints and cover shoe markings in the old ashes. Yes, the killer hid in there until only Miss Watson-“
“Lenore, you’re speaking aloud.”
“I’m- oh, shoot. Sorry. How loud was I?”
Her partner shook his head. “Not very. I’m guessing no one else heard you.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Thanks for stopping me, Edgar.”
“No problem. Look, if you don’t want to do this, I understand. The song is nearly finished, so you could slip off and think for a few minutes if you need to.”
As the music ended, Edgar left to find a new partner. Lenore apologized and thanked him before slipping off through the crowds and into the quieter hallway. Her parents would want to see her in the room, but for now she had a few minutes of quiet to enjoy her inspiration. That’s just how writing went. Brief flashes of clarity muddled by the mundane moments of life. Of course, it would help if she did something interesting for once. Or got out of her heels and behind a type-writer. But neither was going to happen anytime soon.
- .... . -. .- .-. .-. .- - --- .-.
Have you ever been in situations like these? Are murderous cult leaders, mafia spies, unbeatable rivals or midnight dances regularly out to make your life worse? Good. If they were you probably wouldn’t have time to read this. These four are currently working on a book after watching one too many terrible Cinnabar Factor broadcast fail to accurately tell their story. But it’s a long story, which makes for a really long book. And a long book means that it will take a long time to get to you. In the meantime, I have been allowed to put this together. It’s a collection of origin stories, telling how four children with deep psychological issues became four teenagers with deep psychological issues and access to powerful biological weapons.
Sound interesting? Good.
The stories can be read in any order. For example, you could read File 1 then Files 2, 3 and 4. You could also read them in the order 4, 3, 2, 1 or even 3, 2, 1, 4. But not 2, 1, 3, 4. Don’t get crazy on us.
So if you want to read more about how a teenage boy came to flee into the forest with a witch, go to File 1. To find out why a girl lives alone with her watch, check out File 2. For a depressing story about the futility of fighting fate and Sues, File 3 is your best bet. File 4 chronicles the musings of a poet dealing with her mental demons. As if there was any other kind of poet. There are no time-traveling robots, sinking ships, or blue aliens in any of the files. Please go to Netflix and look up James Cameron if those sound interesting.
Yes, you can read the Files in any order. I’ll update this post with the starting points of the various stories when they’re posted. File 2 is completed and in the next seven posts. File 2 begins here and is being updated on Saturdays. File 3 will start in May. Hopefully. Maybe. Possibly. EDIT: Nope. Table of contents will be coming soon, though.