View Full Version : Hearts: Such fickle things (One-Shot) Cert: PG13

Cool-headed Blaziken
23rd February 2007, 05:42 AM
Hearts: Such fickle things (One-Shot) Cert: PG13

A figure, standing at a height of six-foot-seven, was slowly strolling down a street out of boredom and curiosity. He was wearing a cloak and hood that covered his entire body. It was a dark night, the only light that were given to him to see were the lampposts placed the alongside the pavements. The streets were littered and dirtied with various items such as half eaten fruits, snacks and others.

He suddenly stopped, knowing that was about to be surrounded. He was correct; a number of thugs in street clothing surrounded him in different places. Some were in front of him, on his left, right, behind and there were those standing on top of buildings seemingly waiting to pounce on this prey. But this prey would bite back… severely like a carnivore, yet mentally like a psychic.

The figure looked around, letting a curious grunt sound out of his throat. “You’re in our territory, punk,” one of the thugs said slyly. “Don’t you know what we do to guys who step out here?”

While he spoke, another was sneaking up to the cloaked figure with knife in hand. The cloaked one quickly reacted as he turned around with his eyes glowing energetically blue as did the thug. The thug immediately stopped before the cloaked one slowly raised his head up, glaring at his attacker while lifting him up into air without even touching him. “Guys… help!” the floating thug yelped in a frightened voice.

The other bandits charged towards the cloaked figure from behind, armed with various weapons such as knives or steel pipes. Sensing that they were coming his way, he swung his head towards them, mentally tossing the caught thug into them, knocking them down. “Does anyone else want to test my power?” he asked mentally.

Another bandit held a handgun in his hand, aiming it at the cloaked figure. The cloaked one looked at his direction while he pulled the trigger of his gun, blasting out a number of bullets at him. The cloaked figure quickly but calmly lifted his three fingered, purple ‘hand’ while glowing actively blue, stopping the bullets that were threatening to penetrate his body and spill his blood. They were centimetres away when they stopped in their tracks. They were floating in the air like they floating in space until he stopped glowing. The bullets then simply dropped to the floor, making small tinkling sounds upon hitting the ground while he lowered his ‘hand’.

All the thugs looked at him in awe and fright until one of them felt nothing but frustration as he yelled in an angry voice, “Get him in one go!” Every bandit in the scene charged towards him from all directions, attempting to mug him while they yelled out their battle cries.

Sometime later, every thug was lying on the floor, either seriously injured or unconscious. Either way, they were not able to move for a while. “Feeble humans,” he mumbled to himself in thought.

He heard a woman screaming a frightened scream from afar. This figure wouldn’t normally save others that were in need of help. But out of curiosity, he decided to see what was going on.

He reached the location where the woman was screaming. He was standing on top of a tall building, looking down on another group of thugs surrounding a man and a woman in casual clothing.

“Mewtwo,” a man said behind him. His voice was deep and scratchy. The cloaked one, known as Mewtwo, turned around while moving his hood downwards, showing his mutated cat-like head and face. He would often have his face hidden from strangers in case of being caught by those who wanted to use for power or other evil gains. This man was an exception for he never had and never will have the desire to capture him despite his incredible powers. With his stern-looking face, he looked at a muscular bearded man, a few inches taller than him, wearing some leather clothing, consisted of a long sleeved jacket and jeans, boots, a bandanna around his forehead and a pair of sunglasses, all black. This man was one of the most sadistic yet powerful trainers many feared, hated, yet respected. He was known to many as…

“Black Jack,” Mewtwo said in a not very surprised tone. Even though the human arrived on the rooftop from the stairs below, Mewtwo sensed his presence thanks to his psychic abilities. They both met on a couple of occasions, mainly because they had the same enemies.

Black Jack stood next to Mewtwo and they looked down on the couple. The woman was hiding behind the one she loved who was defending her while the bandits surrounding them slowly moved in for the kill. “I was beginning to lose faith in humans,” Mewtwo said telepathically. “For the last few months, there were a number of disgraceful crimes committed in this area of the city.”

“Oh, come on, humans are not all bad. But hey, might as well add to it,” Black Jack said with a smile as he took a couple of small white and red spheres off his belt. They were called pokeballs. He pressed the button on both of his balls, slightly increasing their size. “Let’s take ‘em, boys,” he hissed as he tossed them out. The pokeballs opened up, releasing some strange red energy from them. The energy materialised into different creatures as they landed near the thugs were about to gang up on the couple.

One appeared to be a blue crocodile-like creature with red spikes on his back and head. The other was a purple shelled creature with a white chest and purple spikes sticking out of his back. They were known as Feraligatr and Nidoking. Black Jack leapt down from the tall building and safely landed on his feet but with a small ground quaking moment. Many people would suffer great pain on their feet after jumping a great height but Black Jack smiled sadistically.

“He enjoys the pain,” Mewtwo thought to himself after seeing his associate doing such a stunt. As the fight started, Mewtwo kept his eye on the battle. And while he watched, he wondered why humans like those bandits always do the hurting for their sins while others would commit sins to save the life of others.

He looked at the man who was defending the woman he loved. The man told her to hide while he fought against them. Because of the strength in numbers, the man stood no chance against them without Black Jack’s help but he would still continue fighting. Why?

He then looked at Black Jack. He knew that apart from his love for hearing people’s screams of pain while breaking their insides, he had no other reason to fight. “Unless…” he thought, remembering events that happened concerning Black Jack and himself.

The first time they met, it was at the base where they later call their enemies’. They had a small chat about why Black Jack joined the group he hated so much and why Mewtwo was created. Black Jack answered that he did it to protect his pokemon and he was certain that the group was using him for their own sick personal gain like stealing pokemon from others. Mewtwo became angry because of this and destroyed the entire base, much Black Jack’s hidden glee.

The second time they met, a few years afterwards, was at a mountain, where Mewtwo and the pokemon he created hid. They both challenged each other to a battle, an epic, heated and valiant battle, which ended in a draw. They both had to fend off an enemy in their weakened state and won.

When they met for the third time, Mewtwo was being mind controlled by a new enemy, thanks to their underhanded technology. Black Jack and his pokemon struggled to win. But with Mewtwo’s strong psychic powers and the will to be freed, he let himself wide open, giving Black Jack and his comrades the chance to beat him, freeing him from the enemy’s control.

Lastly, he remembered a family Black Jack’s blood family currently living with. Even with his history of being a criminal, even with his strong, passionate love for violence, his family still forgave him. Why?

There must be more reason why Black Jack fights than just the love for violence. Why? And while he wondered, he continued watching the fight.

No longer than a few minutes later, all of the thugs were beaten as they laid on the floor, either unconscious or badly hurt. The only ones left standing were Black Jack and his pokemon. “Is that all?” he said smugly as he dusted his gloved hands. He looked over to the man, who was sitting on his backside while being comforted the woman he loved. He had bruises on his face and the rest of his body. He also had a bloody nose and mouth. Black Jack walked over to them and recommended them to leave the area as quickly as possible and go to the nearest hospital to get medical attention and treatment.

After they left, Black Jack zapped his pokemon back into their pokeballs, thanking them for a great fight. He then slowly walked back into the building where Mewtwo stood on the roof, still being puzzled. It took Black Jack sometime to get to the rooftop, meeting up with his associate. “Great fight, wasn’t it?” Black Jack asked calmly.

“Why?” Mewtwo asked. “Why do you fight?”

“Huh?” Now Black Jack was puzzled. Why was Mewtwo asking that question?

“You always mentioned that you fight because you love the violence. You enjoy breaking the bones of your victims, you love to hear the screams of their pain, you adore demolishing the organs that are important in their everyday lives. And with no shame either.”


“But that’s not all, is it?”


“I saw that human male fighting to protect the female. I remembered you fighting to save your own brother’s family. Why do you do that? Have you changed after you met your family after so many years and now have a better reason to fight? There must be another reason.”

Black Jack let out a small sigh as he placed his hand on top of Mewtwo’s shoulder. “Mewtwo, you have got powers and abilities so brilliant that even god might fear… but they’re being overshadowed by your lack of knowledge about life,” he said with sympathy in his voice, along with a small smile on his face. “When one day you meet someone you care about, and I mean really, REALLY, care about, not just to protect and such, but would do anything, ANYTHING, to keep her into your life… you will know why.

“But… if you don’t want to get yourself in tight situations like that guy was… don’t give in to it,” he finished. He slowly moved his hand away before checking his watch. “Shoot, half six. I better get back or else Alice will be worried sick about me. See ya later.”

“Farewell,” Mewtwo replied, seeing his associate quickly walking back down the stairs while waving him goodbye. After he was no longer in sight, Mewtwo looked at the sun, rising from the horizon sky that was coloured blood red.

“How will I know when I find this… ‘someone’?” he asked himself curiously.