Falling (Chapter 2 up)

[Darien Shields]

Hey, so here is my new "Trainer" Fic, although it's not quite your average trainer fic. It's a bit dark, I'll try not to be too angsty, and promise to try to be interesting. So have a read and REPLY >_<

EDIT: Made the little start bit into a Prologue, and the rest into "Chapter 1". Also removed the stupid dream.

Some notes:
Cluedo is the original British name for "Clue"
"Joggers" are what we British call what you refer to as "Sweat Pants", TMK
Set in 1998 for no reason except 2000 onwards seems to real and modern, and 1999 is used a lot.
I know it seems to ramble on unclearly- sorry, this is my first attempt at a first person perspective trainer fic, I'll try to learn as I go.
Most of it is effectively afterthought. The italic thoughts are ones that happened at that time and were formulated as such.
Apologises about tensing issues.

Falling

Prologue:


Around me the walls loomed like a pessimistic night sky, the disk of light overhead a moon that could be my only ray of hope. I tried to lift my arm up to reach for it, but... my muscles merely twitched and spasmed uselessly, sending more waves of pain through my body, which were nullified by endorphins. It was comforting to know that even if I was going to die, my bones shattered, my muscles beaten, and my blood pouring out of every orifice, my brain would at least make it comfortable.

The walls of what seemed destined to be my tomb were covered in a thick black sludge, the formula; one part water to one hundred parts filth. It oozed down the walls, gleaming as the rays of golden light from above reflected off it, and coalesced on the uneven floor, forming little pools of goop, into which my limbs were now sinking, trying their best to dye the liquid red.

I tried to reach for the sky again, this time with my other arm. My shoulder moved upwards, kindling hope in me for a fleeting moment, but I felt something tear in my arm, and moments later I new that the flesh was being sheared apart, no-longer strong enough to hold its own wait. I tried to look at my dis-membered arm, but my neck wasn't responding. I squinted at it- swiveling my eyes in its direction.

My eyes were one of the only thing that still functioned. Sadly they couldn't quite glimpse my arm from that position. Perhaps it was for the best. I returned my gaze to the sky, hoping maybe to see some ropes pouring over the rim of the aperture, heralding the approach of a rescue team- or some sort of colossal bird fluttering down to save me, but it was not to be. Oddly the pearly light had become crimson. Then I realised that it was just more of my own bodily fluids marring my vision. So much for functioning eyes.

“K'sa...” I cursed in my native tongue. I could still speak, but it wasn't very helpful. I definitely couldn't raise my voice.

'I can't die here... not yet...' I thought to myself. Stereotypical last thoughts, I know, but I really couldn't. I was only seventeen. I had at least another ten years left before I had to die to leave a good looking corpse. Plus no-one would find me if I died at the bottom of a well, in the middle of no-where. So you can understand why dying there was simply not an option.

“Alright...” I said, “Alright I concede. I'll do what you want...”

Something around my ears bubbled happily. It was a dark liquid, but not the one that was dripping down the walls. I felt this new substance bathe my body, and saw as the solid obsidian mixture flowed over my eyes, blacking out my vision. It seeped into my ears, and cuts. As it covered over my face I could feel it filling out my throat and lungs. It was warm. I couldn't breath, but with this in me, I didn't seem to need to. For a moment everything felt alright.

Chapter 1:

Even with my eyelids tightly shut I could still see the shining light through them, although it wasn't quite white, but a more pink-red shade, as you can imagine. I opened my eyes slowly, unsure where or when I was. I travel around a lot, sleeping in inns, camps, cars, or wherever I can. Every morning I usually experience the same thing; I wake up and for a few seconds I can't remember what happened yesterday, and have a bit of a guessing game of where I was. Today, though, it was going to take more than a few seconds.

As I yawned and blinked a few times, stretching out my arms, my eyes were met with the sight of a forest. Oddly, it wasn't a forest behind the green ceiling of a tent, nor in fact, was it the treetops I'd have seen were I lying on my back. I was sitting, with no shelter, looking out at the forest, a brown floor of sludge and natural compost stretching out bellow, an occasional patch of green grass or plants, and a towering brown tree trunk every two or three feet.

Immediately (although not in a very quick fashion, as my joints were still encumbered by sleep) I turned to see what I was lying against. It was the stone wall of a well. I stood up, struggling for a moment to balance, and looked myself over.

I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday- well, as the last time I remembered which I presumed was yesterday, a pair of sleek black trousers, with deep pockets, made of a durable material that had tholed the trials I put them through on my journeys, a white shirt (perhaps not very practical, I confess) and a sky blue blazer of sorts on top of that. As I had just had a little internal debate about the day/time, I next decided to look skyward for some more information.

I usually used pokégear, which was more than reliable, to keep trap of the time and suchlike, but a little while ago it was smashed when some mountain training got rough. But I could pretty much tell the time by the sun exact the fifteen minutes, if I got a clear view. Unfortunately the forest canopy blocked my sight this time, and I could only see the rough area where the sun shone through. Mid-afternoon, three-ish, I asserted.

Things were getting seriously weird. I never slept in. I rarely slept without a tent, and even more rarely without a sleeping bag. My back pack- which very obviously still had my sleeping bag attached to it, was sitting against the well, beside where I had awoken. Casting my mind back my last clear memory was when I got a lead on a rare pokémon on some backwater southern island, and set out to catch it.

'Yeah, that's right...' I thought to myself. 'I must be on the island...' overhead maps I had referenced flashed through my mind. Roughly diamond shaped, a village on the north-west tip, south-eastern half covered by a forest. A forest I was in.

My hand flew to my belt, where it should have found six pokéballs awaiting my disposal. It did not. My pokéballs were gone, and my pokémon with them. 'But... how!?'

Suddenly my head throbbed angrily, as if my brain was trying to burst free of its prison in my skull. I clutched my head, and scrunched up my eyes, groaning in pain as what could only be migraine gripped me. A few seconds later the pain subsided to a dull ache throughout my mind. I noticed, but didn't take much note of it, that my hair was considerably longer, darker, and cooler than it was normally. I mean temperature-wise, not style-wise, obviously. Although it probably did look “cooler” too.

'Stolen.' I concluded. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense. 'Lured to this island, beaten, drugged, my pokémon stolen, then dumped here.'

Without another moment's thought I snatched up my pack and threw my arms through the straps, sprinting off, away from the well, which I had essentially forgotten about. I had to get back to town, and report the theft.

A few years ago, I'd have done much the same thing, and ran off in completely the wrong direction and end up getting lost for days. I was pretty foolish in my early days as a trainer. I always entrusted my fate to the gods, thinking that they would provide for me if I just picked something at random. After a few harsh lessons, I learned that they wouldn't, and by and large they'd just point at laugh when I fell flat on my face.

But now I was a little better. I remembered the island's shape, and new that if I headed north I'd eventually either come out of the forest, or more likely hit the coast, at which point I could follow it up to the village. I had a small compass on my person that I instinctively glanced at whenever making such judgments, so I could tell which way was north. There were other ways to guess, based on the sun, and lichen and suchlike, but as long as I had my compass it was my first 'port of call'.

As I jogged through the forest I noticed things were eerily silent. My footfalls in the muddy ground almost echoed throughout the forest apparently devoid of wild-life. It was really for the best for me. Wild pokémon were extremely violent, eager to increase their strength through battle, and as such they jump anyone they see, since they've come to associate humans with pokémon trainers. Without my pokémon I'd be mince-meat if something decided to attack me.

I guess I was still in shock at this point, because I wasn't really feeling much about how my six star pokémon had been stolen. Slowly though, under the roasting heat of the afternoon sun, I felt my heart begin to burn slowly, with rage and seething hatred for whoever did this. Between panting breaths my teeth clenched together, while my eyes settled into an aimless glare and my brow descended into a frown. My fists clenched tight together as I went, and I imagined my limbs slamming into my opponent as they flew back and forth. With his burning passion filling my I found my pace quickening, and the trees began to zip by on either side.

Almost all at once the trees stopped and the grass gave way to rough sand. I skidded to a halt as I exited the thick forest canopy and the sun beamed down on me unhindered. A thin strip of beach, no more than ten feet in breadth, at the widest, stretched out like a white ribbon to my right and left, brown dirt on one side of the sandy border, the white froth of the blue southern see on the other. By the sea where the tide was ebbing away the sand was dark and flat due to the moisture left in it, so I treaded over to this strip and resumed my jog north, preferring the flat and slightly more stable ground, even if it was going to make a mess of my trainers.

In the distance seagulls cawed, accompanied by the calls of adventurous pidgeotto who chirped for one reason or another (I have never been an ornithologist, so I can't say whether they were marking their territory, making mating calls or what) as they flew over what I would call unfamiliar territory, for them. Despite the presence of seagulls, their pokémon double, wingulls, were nowhere to be seen. Such is the way in Kanto, and Johto, unlike Hoenn where they mar every sea, like rats of the air. Not that seagulls are much better. The seagulls kept their distance from the coast, fluttering tiny on the horizon, they drifted through the air, appearing as little more than white crosses, like paper crucifixes scattered to the wind by a religious zealot.

Despite the fact that autumn was barely slipping over the horizon, and the sun still towered above me, I began to feel chilly as I went along. Perhaps it was the spit off the sea. I ignored it, and focused on my anger, and my destination.

The island was a minuscule spit of land, and the village was the smallest I'd ever come across. There's a port for the ferry, a post office, no pokémon centre (much to my chagrin), something that passes for a grocery store, a small hut with the police's emblem proudly emblazoned on its walls, and a spattering of residential dwellings. I could see why people might want to settle here- nice forest, nice beach, not big enough to fit many people on, but not a problem considering the population. Still, it must have been brave and stupid few who elected to move out here and cut themselves off from society.

Upon approaching the village the sharp barking of a growlithe alerted just about all the populace to my arrival. It's constant sharp shouts felt like needles in my brain, each one bringing my headache back for a split second, and leaving a numb aftertaste of pain. I gave the canine pokémon a sharp glare as I approached, hoping to silence its protests. I didn't.

Ignoring the incessant barking as best I could (I was eternally grateful when the dog's owner appeared and attempted to quiet it, even though she wasn't completely successful.), I proceeded to the police-hut. It was a simply building, cylindrical, perhaps trying to mirror the appearance of a large tree stump, unpainted brown wood, a flat roof (that looked sodden from too much rain), short windows in a ring around the top, too high to allow anyone to see in or out, but just enough to let light in. The whole thing was less than three metres in diameter, so it was probably just one room inside.

As I turned the door handle and entered I heard a squeal inside and a sort of mechanical clunking sound. I opened the door quickly and looked in to see what the problem was. The officer (a Jenny, as you may have expected) was staring at me in a dazed fashion, sitting on a small black leather office chair behind a desk covered in nick-nacks and fiction books (but not a hint of paper-work.) She wore the standard blue “I Stand Out in Every Crowd” uniform, sans the hat, not buttoned all the way up her neck, and her turquoise hair lay in a rugged shambles over her back. In her right hand she held an archaic 'Game Boy' which bleeped for her attention. It took me a few moments to piece together what had happened, but it seemed pretty obvious when I realised it; she so rarely got anyone coming in that I surprised her. She made some sort of random squeal of shock and jumped in her seat, resulting in the metal sound that I had heard from the door.

She promptly regained herself and gave me a cheery smile (my cynical nature assured me it was false) and beckoned to the dusty seat in front of her desk. She cleared her throat and asked;
“How may I help you today?”
I smiled back (falsely, also. I was still quite saturated with rage) and carefully sat in the chair, unsure if the archaic piece of office furniture would take my weight. It creaked, but held.
“I'd like to report a pokémon theft.” I explained.
The Jenny had been peering over her gameboy, delicately tapping the buttons. As soon as the words “pokémon theft” left my lips her head snapped round and looked at me, her eyes positively glowing.
“Pokémon Theft?” she said. I could hear the hunger in her voice. She was a starved detective, and to her my little ordeal could be a metaphorical banquet. “We don't get many cases of that around these parts... You're the trainer who passed through two town the other day, aren't you?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Anthony Gonee.” I introduced myself, stretching out an arm to shake hands.
She gave me another over-optimistic grin and stood over her desk to shake my hand. “Jenny.” she answered simply. 'Well, Duh'. I noted that despite being stuck with little-no work all day she still had the same trim figure as the other Jennys. Presumably she spent a lot of her spare time working out. “So, tell me the details of the event...” she said, not looking at me, but instead turning to some cabinets behind her to gather up some stationary.
“Well, I came to the island yesterday- at least... I think it was yesterday...” I started, badly. She gave me a confused glance as she sat down again with pen and paper, ready to take down my report. I shook my head, “It doesn't matter. Anyway, I came here because a friend had passed on a rumour about a rare and mysterious pokémon being here. Despite this, when I arrived none of the locals seemed to know anything about this.” the Jenny nodded, “I was a little confused, but ignored that. I'd come all this way, the least I could do was go and check it out, although I already had a nagging feeling I wouldn't be able to find anything. I'm a bit of a pessimist that way. So, anyway, I went out, and... the last thing I remember is wandering into the forest. I woke up about an hour or so ago with no memory since that. All my pokéballs were gone.”
The officer continued scribbling away a few moments after I had finished talking. She paused, as if expecting me to continue, then after a moment, slowly put her pen down and sat up to face me again. “Hmmmm.” she said loudly, and deliberately.
“What?” I said. I admit I said it in something of a snappy tone. I don't have much stomach for people who are screwing me around, and I was on a short fuse that day.
“And you're sure it's theft?” she asked.
“What else could it be? I must have been drugged, robbed, then dumped.” I said, gruffly.
“Hmm...” the officer said, once more. I frowned. “What pokémon were you carrying?”
“Level 50 Electabuz, level 45 Sandslash, level 45 Gyarados, level 43 Parasect, level 42 Machoke and level 40 Weepinbell.” I said, quickly. My team was my life. I couldn't really forget them quickly. '****', I thought, 'That's all the pokémon I have.'

I was never much for the “Gotta Catch 'Em All!” school of training. What was the point in catching pokémon you weren't going to use? You couldn't train them all, or give them all attention, could you? Noooo, I only wanted six pokémon. Six pokémon to wuv and to twain at a time. I was royally screwed now, not a single pokémon to train or to catch more with.

“Could you repeat that?” the Jenny said, blushing.
I realised I had spat out the list a bit quickly. I repeated it, more slowly.
“Mmhmm. That's a pretty powerful team.” she nodded, as she wrote it down. “Do you have any other pokémon?” she asked, perhaps out of curiosity.
“... No.” I said dismally.
“Hmm.” she tapped her pen against her lips. “If someone robbed you there might have been a battle... and if they KOed all your pokémon it might have been pretty big... that would have left some signs...” she said, thinking out loud.
“I suppose... I don't remember a battle, though. It's possible that I was just knocked out.” I shrugged.
“Possible.” she said. “I want to check for signs of a battle.” she explained, standing up. “Was there anything distinctive about where you woke up?”
“Yeah, I was right beside this old well.” I explained.
“Well?” she gave me an odd look. “There aren't any wells on the island...” she paced to a laminated map she had tacked up on the wall. “Everything's so close to the sea, there's really no reason. We just filter whatever water we want.”
“Well it sure as hell looked like a well.” I said, in my defense.
“Maybe whatever they used to stun you confused you.” she suggested.
Possible, but I was hardly going to admit it. Besides, to put it in stereotypical terms it felt real.
“I didn't feel confused.” I replied.
“Well, it doesn't matter, I'll search through the forest.” she said, heading round the desk.
“Wait.” I said, standing up, “What if the thieves were leaving he island? Like in a ship or something? Wouldn't it make sense to check the coast to make sure they're not escaping, first?”
“...” the Jenny paused. “Good call.” she said, finally, blushing, “My police instinct is a little rusty.”
I laughed a little, but not honestly. I made for the door, as she was doing, until she held one arm out, stopping me.
“I'll go it alone, you just stay here.” she said, authoritatively. I disagreed, following her out of the hut, but when she shortly produced a dirty, though obviously durable mountain bike from somewhere around the hut's side, I knew that I would only slow her down. I watched bitterly as she tore off towards the coast.

Returning to her “office” (i.e. The inside of the hut) my first instinct was to return to the seat she had offered me earlier. However, once there some rather queer thoughts occurred to me. 'I should see if there's anything useful here, worth taking.' It's hard to describe a thought, really. There are emotions, moods, and sub-contexts involved. As that thought echoed in my head, for a moment I felt like I was in some sort of rough situation where I had to do anything I could to survive- looting and pillaging were perfectly admissible.

While I should really have suppressed this school of thought, I let it follow through for a moment. Standing, I perused the desk. A variety of ceramic, plastic, and clay figurines, mostly animals, and pokémon, a few in the image of humans. Useless to everyone. Her gameboy, a paused “Tetris” screen visible. The batteries might come in handy, but the gameboy and the Tetris cartridge would be no good, unless I knew how to wire things and use circuit boards, which I didn't.

I spied the pieces of paper the Jenny had taken notes on. Her writing was nearly illegible, but after peering for a few minutes I could just about make it out.

“Pokémon Theft.

Anthony Gonee. Victim {the last word seemed to have been added as something of an afterthought.}

Came to island 15/7/1998, informed that a rare/legendary pokémon was here (BS?!) {lovely to see how much she believed me. Or my story} Headed into forest. No memory of what followed. Woke up today (16/7) with no pokémon.

Missing Pokémon: L. 50 Electabuz
L. 45 Sandslash
45 Gyarados {she only bothered to write “L” for the first two}
43 Parasect
42 Machoke
40 Weepinbell”

About as much as could be expected, considering how long she had to write it. Date confirmed that I have only lost about a day. I had started to imagine that I was in some sort of clichéd sci-fi novel where I awoke years later. Or earlier, for that matter.

I left the report where it was and moved on. Not much else on her desk except more blank paper, and a few writing implements. I found it curious that she had no photographs on her desk, despite the other assorted trash. I am not a connoisseur of desks, but I thought it almost customary to have a framed photograph of a loved one. Maybe she had no loved ones. She could have a picture of one of her identical relatives, but she may as well keep a mirror on hand.

I took a glance at the desk's drawers. No lock. I sat lightly in her chair and pulled the top drawer. Empty. I pulled the second open (there were three) and found some stationary- postits, packets of pens, pencils, erasers. Still in their packets. The bottom drawer was considerably deeper. When I pulled it open I could tell it was filled, it responded slowly and only to a much larger force as I opened it. Inside were a variety of paperback books, neatly arranged with their spines pointing upwards, so that their titles were legible. “The Red Knife”, “Circumstantial Evidence”... a series of (trashy) detective novels. And a few romance novels, and what appeared to be one diet book. These definitely wouldn't be any use to me.

Closing the drawer I stood up and turned to the cabinet. There were a variety of things inside, mostly more paper. But one thing did catch my eye... a lever arch file folder filler with some sort of paper files. I removed it and took a look through.

It turned out this Jenny found another way to use her time. From the looks of the files I now perused, she kept a detailed study of everyone in the little village. Name, age, height, weight, date of birth (she even tracked life expectancy), medical conditions, a small biography, living relatives... The works. One or two even had information on what pokémon they owned (actually, it was two to be precise), this really caught my eye.

Morag O'Brien, forty five, owned that yapping Growlithe.
Nicholas Lomon, eighty three, married (to a woman in her mid-seventies) owned a Sneasel. His life expectancy was listed as “none”, but the file noted that the Sneasel was young by comparison. An odd thing to note, but I guess she might as well put it down since she knew it.

It was strangely satisfying to learn this information, and I almost found myself licking my lips. Not quite though. I rebuked myself for this behaviour, promptly returning the folder to its position in the cabinet (sure to put it back exact to the degree that she would not notice any change) and closing the cabinet, although I had already memorised everything I needed- no, wanted- to know.

As penance for my actions I relegated myself to the creaking chair she had originally offered me for the foreseeable future.

~*~*~

Although it took her less time than I expected to return (twenty minutes) I was still thoroughly bored, and more than slightly bitter when she returned.

“Ah...” she said. There seemed to be a note of embarrassment in her voice. “Sorry you had to wait so long, you could have left and taken a look around the village...”
“No, I was fine.” I lied. I didn't make a huge effort to cover it up, perhaps coming off as a little sarcastic. What did it really matter? I'd be just as bored poking about this village, considering how little there is to do here.
“Well, I couldn't see any ships or the like from the coast, and I cycled all around the island. Plus I did a quick check of the forest, and I couldn't find a well, or any signs of a battle.” she explained, with a little guilt in her voice.
“Damn.” I cursed immediately.
“Don't worry, I'm not done yet.” she said, winking optimistically. I did not share her enthusiasm. “Now, tomorrow I want to go back with you and have a look for this well and any other evidence-”
“Tomorrow?” I asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, you've missed today's ferry, so like it or not you're stuck here.” she started. “And as for returning today, it'll be dark soon, and there are storm clouds blowing in. We won't be very much good at searching in these conditions.”
“But...” I croaked, grasping for some possible argument.
“Whoever stole your pokémon is most likely hiding on the island, or left already.” she declared, “Either way, I doubt a night's sleep will make it any harder to catch them. I need to call in with the mainland, ask them to check the ferry, and a few records, but first, I take it you don't have any accommodation?”
“I have my camping gear.” I stated. It had always been enough for me before.
“Perhaps not wise to camp out if a storm rolls in.” she decided, “Perhaps you should stay at my place. I daresay my couch is softer than the ground.”
I begrudgingly accepted. Something about sleeping in her house didn't bode well with me. I couldn't saw what for sure, though. I resolved to sleep with one eye open.

~*~*~

A few hours later (since she technically had to stick around the hut while she was “on duty”) I stood behind the Jenny, who was now opening the door to her home. It was a very dull building, the colour faded from its every tile and outer wall. The roof almost looked sunken from my perspective, as if the aged structure was sagging. It was only one story, but looked fairly long. The windows had a thick layer of some sort of black grime on them.

By this time I was completely bored through my skull. I had left her office for a short excursion into the town, mainly because she wanted rid of me (I assume she wanted to phone and get a background check on me, or at least, that's what I'd do.) I actually met a few of the villages inhabitants, including Morag, who apologised profusely for her dog (which at that point still wouldn't shut up), and the Lomans, who were very friendly. Their Sneasel slunk around the dwelling like a gremlin or some other sort of mischievous spirit. Whenever it hopped out the old woman (I discovered her name was Agnes, something I remembered briefly seeing in the files) jumped and almost seemed to have a heart attack. Nicholas just chuckled.

I scoped out the rest of the town to get the lay of the land. When I had finished ambling around the lanes an odd thought was my conclusion. 'No hiding places. No need for escape routes. If things turn sour, head for the forest.' As much as I was for planning ahead, I didn't really expect to have to flee. 'Still, though, never know what'll happen. Remember that Tentacool attack on the coast? Anything could come from the sea.' I reassured myself.

I'm sure you heard about it too, the event I referenced, when a small army of tentacool and a mutated giant tentacruel launched a terrible attack on a coastal city? Nasty. Every building wrecked, hundreds killed. Turned me sour on water pokémon, really. I already had a gyrados, 'course, I was hardly going to through it out. It was a ferocious beast, but it was tamed.

Pessimistic predictions aside, I had a boring and uneventful time. And now we were going into her place. Another thought had crept into my head, and although I was sure it was just my seventeen-year old hormones at work, I couldn't dismiss it- it echoed and reverberated in my skull, resurfacing just as I had hoped to put it to rest. 'Is she Interested in me?'

It's crazy notion- I try to tell myself- but I suppose I can't help it. Still, she's probably lonely on this damned little island- I didn't see a single person in that folder who was under forty. And she did invite me to her house, when she could have just let me camp out, or use that ramshackle office. I wouldn't exactly be offended if she were...

'Stick to the task at hand' I thought stalwartly.

I was being led in, now. The front door opened straight into the living room. She strolled ahead and slipped her shoes off in some sort of routine. I lingered at the door for a moment, before removing my own shoes (which were caked with mud, leaves, and sand) and delicately placed them on the nearest hard surface that would resist their muck.

As I looked up from my shoes, I saw her pacing about the opposite end of the room. Her jacket was discarded (strewn over the back of a cheap brown sofa), and she had her hands on the buttons of her shirt. From the looks of things she usually relaxed a lot when she came home. Her face was turning scarlet now, though, and she immediately swiped her hands away from her shirt.

“I'm afraid it's hardly the 'Ritz'” she apologised, gesturing to the room. She was right about one thing. The walls were adorned with the tackiest of gaudy ornaments, the wall paper was a dull green colour that was nearly indistinguishable from mold, the carpet was worn in several places, a few pieces of furniture were placed around the middle of the room, a sofa and two comfy chairs, all covered in patches, a very basic coffee table made from wood clearly covered in splinters. Opposite the sofa, and beyond the coffee table, was a small wooden cabinet with a minuscule TV sitting atop it. 'What sort of reception does she even get, here?' I thought. “But it's good for sleeping.”

“Oh, I'm sure it'll be like paradise compared to camping.” I shrugged. 'Is it too late to pitch my tent?'
“Mm.” she nodded. “The bathroom's here.” she indicated a door behind her on her left, “My room's here”, she indicated a door directly behind her, “And obviously that's the kitchen.” she pointed to a walk-in kitchen which was clearly the most well-loved room in the house. “I need to change, but I'll be right back...” she said, and promptly disappeared into her room.

My head was starting to throb again, so I sat down immediately on the nearest chair (its wooden skeleton creaked audibly, but settled after a moment) and held a hand to my temple. 'I need a drink' I surmised. Not alcoholic, of course, but just something to rehydrate me. Considering how long I must have gone without something to drink it wasn't that surprising I was getting a headache.

I pulled my pack off and dumped it between my legs, and began going through its contents. I found a half-full bottle of mineral water I had bought on the ferry yesterday. I pulled it out put my hand on the cap to unscrew it. Before I did though I took a sly glance towards the cluttered kitchen. There was a tap and a fridge, so I could probably get a free drink rather than squander my water. 'Why waste what's portable when you can “stock up” here?' my survival instinct said. Spending so much time camping and suchlike you developed this sort of mentality. However, I still wanted to be polite, and it wouldn't do to drink anything that didn't belong to me. Plus the tap water here might be horrible. I opened my bottle and gulped down a mouthful.

Still holding the water in one hand I took another look at the innards of my bag. Probing through it made me feel like some sort of barbaric surgeon, pulling around intestines and organs. I found what I was after- five compacted Ultra Balls. I removed two and put one in each of my pockets. I had to be on the look-out for pokémon now, if I wanted to get something to tide me over.

Sinking back into the chair I sighed, and took a sip of my water. It was this point I realised how little I really missed my pokémon. I was angry that I had been robbed- violated, that my hard work would serve someone else, that now I had almost no chance of entering the pokémon league, but I wasn't sad or angry about the things you might expect. No, I never thought “I'll never see my friends again”, or “If they're being mistreated I'll kill you!”

I guess I'm just not the sentimental type.

The left hand door creaked open (the entire structure seemed to be in a minor state of disrepair) and my host appeared, now dressed in grey joggers and a white tee-shirt that was several sizes too large for her and was emblazoned with the statement: “I fought the law, but the law won” She was holding a cardboard box about the size of a garbage can lid.

“Hey.” she said, smiling warmly. I merely nodded in response. “There isn't a lot to do here to pass the time, but I thought, maybe...” she held up the box. In bold red letters was the word “Cluedo”over the image of an art deco mansion, with the faces of several suspicious characters. I groaned inside. I have nothing against Cluedo, but it is not a two player game.
“Sure.” I said, simply.
~*~*~

Several hours (and at least three games of Cluedo) later I sat amidst the ruins of the evening- the Cluedo board only partially visible underneath two plates and cups. Over the course of the evening we had talked about ourselves and our lives, and I got just about the full sob story from her.

A mundane Jenny life up to around eighteen, when she failed her pokémon (specifically growlithe) handling class, and then scored poorly on a police exam. As a result she had been posted to this insignificant island, where she had worked for the past seven years (making her twenty five). She did mention that she'd been one of the best in her class at sprinting and suchlike, but obviously didn't get much use out of such skills.

In exchange I told her about myself, but there wasn't really much to tell. Three years ago I got my first pokémon, an Elekid, and set off on my journey from my home on Cinnibar (ironically this little excursion had brought me pretty close to home). I trained hard, earner eight badges, and was training to participate in this year's pokémon league. And then, a friend who worked as a secretary in a pokémon newspaper had called me with a 'hot tip' that some sort of legendary pokémon was on this island.

As I got to this point in the tale my teeth clenched together, and my hands balled into fists. I spat out each word like little licks of flame. She leaned over the table and put one of her hand on mine and said in her most re-assuring voice: “Don't worry, I'll get them back.”

Yeah right. She was a rubbish detective. She lost every game of Cluedo that we had played.

She had generously provided dinner- a greasy concoction of rice and beef. I didn't complain though, free food was free food.

Jenny yawned.
“Well, I usually get up at about six- so I'm going to turn in.” she stated, standing up. “You have a sleeping bag, yeah?” I nodded, “Then you can just sleep on the couch, I hope it's comfy enough for you.”

I found it curious that a police officer was letting a complete stranger sleep in the same house as her, and that, furthermore, she was already turning in without any assurance that I would be sleeping in the next few hours. I sighed as she disappeared into her room. My pokémon might as well be dead.

A few minutes later I lay awake in the darkness, waiting for sleep to come. I was not hopeful- considering I woke up mid-afternoon, I'd probably be up for a while. I sighed and went over the days events in my head, over and over again... gradually slipping away...

[Silencer]

I just wanna say, wow.

This story has written plots all over it. what was the ooze thing? what happened? what was the dream about? are some question that pop into my head.

Althought I saw some spelling mistakes (at the beginning I think I saw site instead of sight).

You also seem to have an eye on detail which is always very nice and the character seems really intresting besides all the cheery and "I love my pokemon" kind of characters.

And I confess you tricked me with the yu-gi-oh title but meh this kind of story makes up for it ^^

[Darien Shields]

Thanks for the feeback, Silencer ^_^

Bwargh, I corrected that "site" error once, but then I went and loaded an old copy of the story for another reason, so I didn't catch it. I'll go back and fix that in a moment. Here's the next chapter. Sorry for a lack of action- I think this might have a slow start, but things will kick off eventually keep your eyes peeled and try to read more into the events than I write- there is definately more than meets the eyes.

Chapter 2

“Anthony.” an authoritative voice heralded from above me.

I groaned and put a hand to my head. A bright light hurt my eyes. Still used to sleeping out-doors, and perhaps being a bit sleep-deprived, I was a tad confused by all this.

“Anthony, it's time to get up.”

I gradually managed to open my eyes and focus on the figure above me. Officer Jenny. 'Ahh, of course' I thought. It all came flooding back. I cursed to myself silently as I remembered the loss of my pokémon. 'Why couldn't it have just been another wild training day?'

I sat up groggily, shrugging off my unzipped sleeping bag. I was still dressed in yesterday's clothes, which was a bit embarrassing, especially when Jenny stoop before me in her immaculate police uniform, all sparkling buttons and crease-less fabric. She even had a hat, now. However, she drew no attention to my state of dress, and instead gave me a curt smile and said; “Coffee?”

“Uh, alright.” I replied. I wasn't really a coffee drinker, but it seemed rude to turn the offer down.
She paced off towards the kitchen. I found myself absentmindedly staring at her short skirt as it wiggled away, until I realised, and cringed at my own adolescent behaviour. “I guess I don't really need coffee to get up here...” she said as she started to brew up the concoction, “But you get into the habit of it at the academy, and all my cousins do it. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I didn't.”
“Ahuh.” I answered. Glancing around, I spied my pack. “Be right back.” I said before darting across the room, snatching up my pack and swinging into the bathroom.

One of the many drawbacks to the life of a wandering trainer is that you can only really pack one set of clothes. And you can imagine how embarrassing that looks. Still, I had enough sets of underwear to circulate until I got them washed, so all was not quite lost. I changed quickly and washed my face as best I could, before returning out to be greeted by a cup of coffee.

I smiled and went to take a gulp of the black liquid, but I only got a splash in my mouth before I slammed my jaws shut and grimaced. Thankfully Jenny didn't notice this, and I marshaled my composure to put the cup down before I dropped it. The drink tasted absolutely vile- almost like evil itself, I daresay. Hot, bitter, and with an aftertaste that promised to linger for the entire day. I struggled to choke it down, but in the end went back to the cup for more, once more on principles of etiquette and survivalist thinking. It was hard to say whether she had made it badly, or if coffee just tasted vile.

As I slurped up the last of the coffee, my eyes watery from the difficulty it was causing me, a shriek heralded from somewhere in the village. I exchanged a bewildered glance with Jenny before she bolted for the door, and I followed.

My imagination made little attempt to theorise the reason for such a blood-curdling shriek, but I still speculated that there was still a high probability that it was something mundane, like a woman (yes, the shriek had, what I would call, a female voice) discovering a dead pidgey on her doorstep.

I felt, suddenly, a pang of fear in my chest. Simultaneously bile seemed to leap up my chest, and my run became a stumble. 'I don't have any pokémon' the thought rung in my head, 'If this turns out to be a fighting situation, I'm screwed.' However, there was little I could do to amend this so I carried on, a little slower, and panting much more heavily.

Obviously it didn't take long to find the source- there couldn't be more than twenty houses on this island. Jenny hammered the door with her fist as soon as we arrived, oblivious to the bell button mere inches away from her hand. There was a shuffling inside, and Jenny faltered. She tried the door handle, and found it open, so she swung the door open and proceeded with a minimum of caution, as I followed furtively.

It was a simple bungalow like Jenny's, we had entered through a “back door” in the kitchen, but were hastily making our way deeper, towards the sound of weeping coming from the house's bedroom. The weeping eased my heart beat a little, since it indicated that the source of the shriek probably wasn't that dangerous.

Finally we reached the bedroom door, which wasn't closed, but ajar. Jenny cautiously kicked it open and peered inside. It was now I realised that the house we had entered was none other than that of the Lomons who I had met yesterday. I could just about make out Mrs. Lomon bent over the still form of Mr. Lomon, bawling and crying her eyes out. She didn't even look up at us.

I exchanged glanced with Jenny, and we both knew the truth: Simon Lomon was dead.

Jenny seemed to relax as she realised the situation, although she promptly adopted a solemn expression. She took her hat off and held it to her chest. I stayed in the threshold, unwilling to enter. Jenny mumbled some sort of apology and explanation, and we beat a hasty retreat.

Once outside we sighed and Jenny bit her lip.

“You think it was a killing?” I asked immediately.
“What?!” Jenny blurted, raising a single eyebrow as high as she could. “Of course not.” she answered, “Simon Lomon is- was- eighty three years old, had two heart attacks and walked with a cane- he probably just passed in his sleep. If I thought it was murder I'd have had her out of there immediately, she'd contaminate any evidence. She could have even be the killer.”
'Ah, so you're not completely incompetent after all, eh?' I thought wryly.

It was hard to believe that the cheery old man I'd been talking with yesterday had just popped his clogs. My heart saddened for a moment, thinking of his wizened smile. But it was harder to believe his wife, a sweet little old lady, had killed him.

“Just wanted to make sure.” I shrugged.
Silence lingered in the air for a moment.

I noticed, at that point, that it was a rather nice morning. In the distance, an auburn sun was beginning its ascent. The air was crisp, not too humid, and an amiable temperature. The grass beneath my feet was soft and moist, but not muddy or mossy. A few clouds framed the horizon, but the sky shone pale blue above us, and the sea shimmered bellow it, deep blue flecked with frothy white.

“I should come back here later...” Jenny said, finally, “But right now we can get down to business.” she said, and set out towards her police-hut again.

A few minutes later she left a sign on the door with an explanation, and we set off south into the forest. Once more I began to feel a bit uneasy- naked without my pokémon, and defenseless. However, this drew my mind back to why I was without my pokémon, and before long fear was consumed by hatred, and I marched angrily through the forest, my eyes glaring.

Jenny quietly let me lead once we were within the forest's perimeter, assuming I knew how to get back to the place where I had awoken yesterday. As I stamped over fern and stump I quite forgot about my purpose, and before long we found ourselves coming out of the forest on the southern shore. Jenny shot me a skeptical glance.

“Huh, well...” I blushed, getting a hold of myself, “I really don't know this island very well.” I said- struggling to think of an excuse, “I tried to go back the way I went when I first entered the forest, but I guess my memory's still no good. I might be able to retrace my steps from the village...” I suggested.

Jenny consented, but since we were already on the south end she decided we ought to have a bit of a search anyway as we headed back north. Now she lead a zig-zag bath covering the breadth of the island, showing my various little glades and clearings, none of which I recognised. After about an hour we had plodded our way back to the village, and once more set out, along the pearly coast.

My footprints had obviously vanished by now, but things looked a little familiar. Of course, I hadn't been one hundred percent compus-mentus when I came up this way, so I had some trouble remembering things exactly, but judging by how long it took me (accounting for the fact that I wasn't running now) I reached a point that looked about right. I glanced around for a familiar landmark, but the island was uniformly monotonous. Pacing up to the embankment, though, I could see some leaves and dirt on the sand, and some disruption in the grass above that.

“This looks like it might be where I came out.” I said to Jenny, indicating the spot, “Mud and stuff stuck to my trainers fell off on the sand, and before that I made some disruptions in the grass.” I suggested.
“Hmm.” Jenny nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced. Neither was I.

There were no paths within the forest whatsoever. I hadn't followed one out, and I couldn't see one now. The grass was thick underfoot, and within the trees there was no visible damage or disruption from my foot-steps; if I had bent a single blade of grass, it had regenerated by now. However, I had a good idea of which direction to go; Due South. I had headed Due North to get out, and could do the opposite to work my way back.

I stalked forward, Jenny once more falling behind me, my eyes constantly flitting to and from my compass to the trees ahead, making sure to dart straight round trees and keep on heading south. 'But then... did I go straight north coming out?' I thought.'I wasn't holding the compass... I just ran, avoiding trees and going on... it wasn't important to go due north, just North-ish...' I dismissed this line of thinking, though, as going south was just about my only lead.

“Hold on!” Jenny said, abruptly.
I halted and turned to her.
“This place looks slightly rough.” she said, pointing to the mucky ground. There were many patches where the grass was gone, and only mud remained, or the grass was otherwise flattened or beaten back. A few saplings had been snapped in two.
I rubbed my chin. “You think there was a fight here?”
“Possible.” Jenny said.
I glanced around. There was no well in sight. “It's not where I woke up.” I said. “No well.”
“Are you sure that you saw a well, and not a greyed tree stump, or something?” Jenny asked, tilting her head sympathetically.
I resented the implication that I was losing my mind, but then, I did struggle to picture the well, and I had just woken up from being drugged. “... pretty sure.”
“Regardless, you could have had a fight here and got dumped elsewhere.” Jenny suggested.
“True.” I nodded.

We spent a few minutes inspecting the scene, but came to no more conclusions in ten minutes than we had in ten seconds. There could have been a small battle here- but it was equally possible some violent wind or birds had been the cause. Jenny marked the point and we continued on south.

Once more we came to the shore, and turned ourselves around, although without much zeal now. We took another zig-zag cross section of the forest, but found nothing more. We tramped back along the beach, and made our way to Jenny's hut. It was about ten in the morning now, with everything said and done. I was waiting to get back inside to discus what to do next with Jenny, but when we reached the hut Mrs. Lomon was waiting outside, her face still wet with tears.

Jenny put and arm over her shoulder and led her into her office, as the old women spluttered something about reporting the death. Not eagre to witness this I let Jenny close the door behind her and loitered outside.

I began to wonder what the hell I was going to do now. The chances of finding my pokémon on this island were slim. They weren't helped by this Jenny. Some pessimistic feeling in the base of my stomach told me that I wouldn't be seeing my pokémon, ever again.

'But what if I'm not?' I asked myself, 'I can't mope around this island on a wild goose chase. I've got to keep going...' I thought desperately. 'Life Goes On. Let Go. Live one day at a time. All that shit. Right?' I asked myself once more. 'She doesn't need me to help her investigate. But my time's ticking away... I've got to continue with my mission...'

My heart was beating quickly, although I was not afraid of being attacked. I was starting to feel claustrophobic on this little island. That Jenny may be spending the rest of her living days here, but I didn't need to get stuck here. I had to get out, get on with my life. Maybe I could get a new starter in Pallet. Or I could just buy a sack of pokéballs and nab something weak out there, and then train it up. I had to get back to work. 'I have a lot of work to do' I told myself.

I stood, leaning against the hut's wall contemplating this for quite some time. By the time I heard someone hobbling towards the door I had made up my mind. The ferry would arrive at one, and I would leave on it at two.

Still sniffing Mrs. Lomon, supported by Jenny, still, stumbled through the door. She turned and stared at me as I stood off the wall. For a moment I felt scared, as if I were about to get scolded. However, she immediately dove into her purse and started rummaging for something. She yanked out a compacted pokéball, and thrust it vehemently into my hands.

“Please take this!” she pleaded, “I can't stand it!” she said, and departed as speedily as an old lady could. I looked into my hands. The crimson-silver ball sparkled in my grasp. I knew what it was- Lomon's Sneasel.
“That was lucky.” Jenny said to me, with a smile. She put a hand on my shoulder, as she now seemed to be in the habit of doing, and led me into the office. I was still in a state of shock. “I'll file some paper work to re-register that in your name. Should be pretty simple. Now, what are we going to do now... The head office is getting in touch with the coast guard, but they don't have anything, an-”
“I'm leaving.” I declared.
Jenny looked up at me, her jaw hanging limp, her azure eyes wide with shock. Then she regained herself, slightly, closing her mouth and tightening her eyes. “Leaving? What do you mean.”
“On the ferry. Today. I've decided.” I explained.
Jenny just looked at me aghast, so I went on.
“I can't stay here forever. I know it's only been a day, but...” I decided to turn on the 'charm'. After all, I didn't want to look suspicious, now, “I know you can handle the case by yourself. That said, I'm not optimistic as to finding my pokémon quickly, and I've got to get on with my life, continue training and looking forwards to the pokémon league. I was going to try and catch something in Pallet, but, well...” I held up the new pokéball, “I'll be alright now.”
“Are you sure you won't stay at least another day...?” she asked sadly.
I shook my head. “I'll only slow down your investigations. You've got all the information I can give, anyway.”

It was invariably my over-active teenage imagination acting up, but I could have sworn she seemed to be getting sad at the thought of me leaving for reasons other than her job.

“I don't have pokégear at the moment.” I said, flashing my bare wrist, “But I intend to get a replacement as soon as I can. What's the number of this office?”
“Ah, I'll just write it down for you.” the Jenny said eagrely, leaping about to grab some paper and a pen. The pokéball was starting to burn in my hand. It wanted to be trained, to let rip and show me its potential. “Here you go.” she said, handing me a folded over sheet of A4. The idea of me keeping in contact seemed to cheer here. I didn't look at the paper but simply filed it away in my pack.
“So, what were you saying about the coast guard?” I asked.
“Oh, well...” she began to explain.

An hour later, all legal conversation exhausted, I made an excuse and departed from Jenny's hut. It would still be an hour or two before the ferry arrived, and yet more time until it departed, but I wasn't in the mood for social interaction with- well, anyone.

Strolling towards the coast I removed the compacted pokéball from my pocket and expanded it. Once my feet were on the sand I chucked it down in front of me.

As soon as the ball hit the ground its three segments split- the silver hemisphere and crimson hemisphere hurtling away from each other, evapourating within the explosion of red light that had burst from within, eventually disappearing at the perimeter of the vague figure. The coin-like disc/button spun rapidly and gently moved through the translucent red energy without being engulfed. The light shot out in all directions but then receded into a humanoid figure. The disc finally settled in the forehead of the figure, and the light washed away, revealing an obsidian figure. Of course, this all took less than a second.

The beast before me was a beauty to behold; its head came up to about my waist (although its long pointed ears shot up higher) as it stood up straight, at first, but after a few moments it leaned over a bit, out of habit. This creature was one used to sneaking and skulking, keeping a low profile. Most of its body was covered in a thin obsidian coat of- well- I suppose you'd call it fur. It was an odd coating, somewhere between fur and feathers. A bit like what Penguins have. Anyway, it had short stubby legs that had uniform width all the way down. It had relatively small feet, except for the long silvery claws that stuck out of them like mole-claws. Its body was small, thin, and slightly wider at the base. Three long pink feathers stuck out glaringly from its back, and fanned up and down slowly (presumably in what pokémon consider a “seductive” movement). Just bellow its neck was a golden oval- like a coin emblazoned in its chest. It had long black arms that drew wider as they extended. From each arm two more silvery claws protruded each four inches long, initially straight like knife-blades, but they curled like fingers when the creature lifted up its arms (when it let them dangle its claws met the earth). I also spied a third, much shorted claw, on each paw, essentially the equivalent of a human thumb. Its head was round- almost like a small pumpkin, without the contours or colour. Another golden oval sat in the middle of its face, just above its nose, but this was stapled down by the pokéball button. It wore a a curious expression on its face, and its irises gleamed red in the sun. They looked manic to me- like this pokémon was psychotic, and wouldn't hesitate to kill if it wanted to. Its ears- one black like the rest of of its body, the other longer and pink, pricked up and down, apparently waiting for my words.

“S- Sneasel...” I said, after taking a few moments to observe the creature. I had stuttered, and it surprised me. I didn't realise I was tense. 'What am I doing? I don't even know what gender it is...' I ran a hand through my slick black hair and sighed, turning partially away from the monster for a moment. Then I turned back, deciding to fake confidence if I didn't have the real thing. “Sneasel!” I declared in the deepest, most booming voice I could produce. It looked up at me with the same expression on its face, its eyes still hungry for blood, “Your old master, Simon Lomon is dead. I am your master now.”

The pokémon hissed happily and bent down on one knee, sweeping its long arms down to the ground and inflecting its head. It was... bowing?

“Uh-!” I made a sound of surprise at this behaviour. It peered at me with one eye and then went on smiling. “S-so... I'm your Master now...” I went on, losing my air of confidence, “I guess what I should know first is if you're a male or female.” it stood up and looked at me, awaiting command. “Lift your right paw if you're male, or your left paw if you're female.” It promptly lifted its left paw, although it took me a moment to realise the paw on my right was the paw on its left. “Ah, female... well, you ought to have a name...” I gave all my pokémon nick-names, all six of them. Seven counting this. “Did Lomon give you his own name. No- nevermind-” I waved my hand to dismiss any thought of answer, “That doesn't matter, As I said, I am your master now. The past is the past, and I'm wiping the slate clean.” I said, essentially thinking out loud. Ironically, then, when I wasn't paying attention, I acted more confident than before. “It's a human name, but I think it will do... I'll call you 'Souma'.” She nodded, and bowed again.

“Souma!” I declared in my faux condifent voice. I pointed away away from me, “Ice Beam Technique!”

The pokémon twirled round, bent over so that the dark soles of its feet lifted off the ground and its giant toe-nails dug into the ground, while it stabbed its knife-arms into the ground and pursed its lips together. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then, instead of the sound of her exhaling that I half-expected, there was a crackle, like tiny thunder, and a translucent azure bolt shot out from her and shot off forwards in a relatively straight line that slowly arced down until it struck the sea (being on the beach, she was now aiming out to sea) and I heard a sound like snow crunching underfoot, only louder. In a flash a huge jagged lump of ice was floating atop the water, dozens of crystaline points poking out of it. Souma panted, and got back to her feet.

I clapped appreciatively (although not over-enthusiastically) and spoke again. “Good. Now, try Blizzard.”

This time the sneasel did not obey. Instead she turned to me and raised one of her invisible eyebrows.

“Don't know that one then...” I grinned, blushing slightly, “Scratch one off the list. Well, carrying on... Slash!”

~*~*~

It took over an hour to work through all of a sneasel's possible moves, figuring out which ones it knew, which ones it didn't, which it were good at, which it wasn't. I eventually established that it knew Ice Beam, Slash (these were its mainstays), Fury Swipes, Icy Wind, Faint Attack (which is hard to describe and identify, but it's sort of like a sneak attack. With cloaking), Screech (which I found out to my woe) and Agility. Nice moves. I could hardly wait to get a chance to use them.

By this point, though, Souma was panting and leaning heavily on her claws. The sand around us was churned up, covered with lines cut by her talons, particles of ice or snow, as well as foot prints. It was hard to demonstrate a lot of the moves without a target.

“Good job Souma. You've earned a rest.” I said, walking over to the pokémon and poking it in the middle of the face- or to be more precise, pressing the pokéball button in the centre of its face. Its black coat, pink feathers and silver claws all became transparent read, like jelly, and receded upwards towards my hand. I plunged my fingers into the energy to form a grasping hold around the button. The energy was intangible- just like light. It quickly sucked up and into the space between my fingers, reverting back to the pokéball I had released her from moments before. I compacted it, and buckled it to my belt.

I guess I didn't realise it then, but as I turned back to the village I wore the same expression the sneasel wore. A sort of curious smile. A “I know something you don't know” sort of smile. I probably had that red gleam in my eyes too. I read in a book somewhere that when you're comfortable with someone you start to mimic some of their little habits sub-consciously. Like if you're sitting talking to someone and they cross their legs. If you're comfortable with them you might just do the same thing without even noticing. It's all body language. Maybe this was the same thing.

I could see the hulking mass of the ferry as I approached- its colossal metal hull looked like a skyscraper on the horizon compared to the tiny suburban-esque dwellings spotted about the village. It was surprising it could get so close, but I guess they had dug out all the beach at that side so that it was deep all the way up to the peer (which was rather short, just poking out of the village.)

'So that's it then, I'll just walk onto the boat and outta this town' I thought.

Predictably, it wasn't going to be quite that easy. I was walking along the peer, my feet thudding softly against the thick wood when I heard her-

“Anthony, Antyhony!” Jenny's familiar perky voice called from behind me. I turned to see her jogging towards me, panting profusely.
“Officer.” I said mundanely. “Jenny.” I smiled when she looked at me crossly. She looked at me with a warm humorous look when I addressed her properly.
“I just wanted to make sure you got off okay.” she explained, still breathing heavily.
“Ah, well, I'm right here.” I said. I sometimes had a bad habit of making stupid ambiguous statements like this one that worked in my head, but not outside it. What I meant was, “I'm right here, leaving, safely.”
“Mmm.” Jenny nodded. Whether she understood or not was debatable, but she wasn't exactly going to argue. “And you have my contact details?”
I patted the side of my pack. “Yes. I'll get them into a pokégear as soon as possible.”
“Oh!” she declared suddenly, and started digging through her pockets. “I wanted you to have this.” she handed me a long white aerosol can. Mace.
I sweatdropped. “M-mace?” I asked, totally confused by such a bizarre gift.
“I've never had much use for it, but it gets dangerous out there...” she looked concerned. She forced it into my hands, “You'll be able to use this if you ever need to protect yourself.”
'Freebie'
“Mmm.” I nodded. This time it was my turn to pretend to understand, even if I didn't. I slipped the can into my pocket and nodded to her once more, pacing swiftly onto the metal boarding area of the ship. I turned back to her once my feet were firmly within the ship. “I'll see you again. I have my utmost faith in you as a detective.” I said
“Goodbye!” she yelled, louder than was necessary.
'Jeeze, this is getting really more emotional than it should be.' I thought, blushing and waving, 'But then again, it never hurts to be friends with an Officer Jenny. They're like the Mafia of the police world- quite literally in a “family business”. If I really need it I could probably get her to pull some strings for me...' it was curious logic, something I hadn't really considered much before, but it didn't seem untrue.

The ship wasn't going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, but we were still stuck there waving our arms around like morons waiting for something to interrupt. I glanced behind me and spied a door into a sort of viewing gallery under the ship. I made one last more vigorous wave and swung through the door as quickly as I could. I slammed it behind he and leaned against it, sighing with my eyes closed.

“Goodbye, Jenny. I have no doubt we'll meet again.”

[mistysakura]

This fic is cool. Another mysterious beginning, like i Monster, and equally, if not more effective because of the chilling descriptions. I have a few of my own theories already; I reckon, whatever his memories tell him, Anthony must have been a theif before he awoke. There's too much focus on his scavenging, secretive nature for it not to come into play somehow. The second theory, much more far-fetched, is that of the cliched parallel universe through the well. I* really have no idea how I came up with that one, aside from the fact that he didn't die. But clearly everything hinges on what he said he'd surrender and do when he was just about to sink through.

I'll be reading this, no doubt.

[Silencer]

Finally someone else besides me replied.

I really like this fic but it seemed that getting Sneasel was a bit to easy (or is it just me?).

Anyhow I have my own theory :p. My theory is that Anythony somehow found the legendary pokémon his friend told him about and challenged him (with some circumstances maybe?). Anthony was defeated and clobbered for his ignorance(the almost dieing part) and then the mystery pokémon healed him but erased his memory.

O well each his own theory, right?

and to sum it up: Nice chapter, great story, keep it up

[Charizard04621]

Damn, I really hope you keep the chapters coming. I got hooked in the first few sentences and just couldn't stop reading the murderously looooong chapters :P Er, yeah, I know it's a little late replying considering that the last chapter you posted was a month ago, but hey, if anything I know I post a lot slower than you do. ^_^; I especially like the main character, nothing like a certain idiot that I absolutely abhor, eh.

[EDIT]: Okay, read Chapter Two. Somehow I'd figured Anthony would end up with the Sneasel, though Lomon's death - luck or something else? Anthony obviously has no memory of his experience in the well, though I must say it was rather lucky (or again, was there a purpose?) that he was saved. I'm guessing that the creature he pursued was his savior, or perhaps he'd overstepped his bounds against the thing he was attempting to capture and something else felt sorry for him. I doubt you're going to go into some clichéd Chosen One plotline, but I find it strange that Anthony was blessed with such... coincidences.

Anyway, it is kind of eerie that Anthony took so well to the Sneasel's sneaky little habits. I like Sneasel, though; I've always admired it. Even wrote a short story on one. :) It's a great re-starter pokémon for someone who's already had some experience; not something that a beginner could use effectively. Er, that or Anthony imagined everything including his six pokémon. :P