Disclaimer: (Plays recorded message) I do not own Pokemon or Team Rocket or any of its characters. I also do not own any large sums of money, so suing me would be a complete waste of time.

This is the first day of my last days.

I built it up now I take it apart, climbed up real high now fall down real far.

No need for me to stay, the last thing left I just threw it away.

I put my faith in God and my trust in you, now’s there’s nothing more fucked up I could do.

Wish there was something real; wish there was something true.

Wish there was something real in this world full of you.

‘Wish: Nine Inch Nails’

“My dear James.”

He wanted to scream, but his body was frozen, unresponsive. That abhorrent Vileplume had seen to that. The disgusting little creature now sat cowering at the far end of the room, as though the sight of it’s own master had suddenly become unbearable. Or perhaps being witness to what humiliation she put him through was what had frightened it. Either way, he didn’t know.

“It was mighty silly of you to try to escape from me, now wasn’t it?”

His parents had long since disappeared upstairs for morning tea. He hated them for not being able to see how truly horrible she was. She had blinded them with her beauty and grace, her false veil of gentle innocence. They thought she was still that little girl from so long ago, a harmless, petite little thing that wanted nothing more than to show him how to eat his spaghetti the proper way.

“But you can’t escape from me. Not now.”

But she had changed. He had sensed it from the very first instant he had laid eyes on her. She was no longer cute and just overly annoying. There was something black in her eyes, and her face seemed like a mask. Her body a puppet, used by something else that wanted him, perhaps even as much as she did. Maybe even more…

“Now come here and give your fiancée a kiss.”

She pinched his chin and lifted his face towards hers, and he felt his eyes widen in terror. She was leering at him, the image reminiscent of a centuries old reptile opening her glittering maw to devour a mate. His arm jerked spasmodically.

They kissed…

Something was wrong. The kiss was forceful, demanding, hungry. He felt his lips being pushed open and almost gagged when her tongue slid its way past his teeth and into his mouth. Jessibelle had always been fastidious about hygiene; she brushed her teeth five times a day. But at that moment she tasted like rotting flesh. The bile rose in his throat.

Something else was there. It rose out of her suddenly, slithering past his teeth and tongue and forcing itself down into him. It twisted and turned and pushed itself into every small corner of his body. A sharp coldness stabbed him, and grinded away in his gut. Burning hatred erupted in his brain, the flames licking at the back of his eyes. The thing inside him hissed its approval. Jessiebelle released him from the foul contact and laughed.

“Now it has you, my sweet!”

And she kept on laughing, the sound echoing off the filthy walls of the dungeon. It got louder and louder, until she threw her head back and the laugh became a mad cackle, as dry as the wind blowing through autumn leaves. There was no sanity in the sound. Just laughing. At him, at the torture she had just inflicted on him. James felt his teeth clench until he thought they would shatter. The hate in his brain exploded into a white-hot fury and the thing roared in triumph.

His hands shot out and wrapped themselves around her pretty little neck. He squeezed, felt the soft flesh crumple like paper under his grip. Her eyes widened, but the hateful bitch just kept on laughing. The thing cried out for more.

“Shut up!” He screamed.

She didn’t. Her hands came up to grasp at his throat, but the grip was weak. Blackness churned in him and he dug his fingers harder into her skin. But she would not stop laughing.

“Shut up!”

The thing howled with pleasure. James squeezed and felt the windpipe collapse under his hands. Blood oozed between his fingers. Still, she would not stop.

“SHUT UP!”

His wrists twisted and the delicious crack of her neck being snapped like dry tinder echoed in his ears. Warm crimson sprayed onto his face. Her eyes became empty and her hands fell away from him. And finally, the laughing ceased.

But it wasn’t enough.

He lifted her dead weight, and slammed her head into the unforgiving surface of the dungeon wall. Something splintered and broke, covering him with warm, red wetness. It tasted sweet. So he kept doing it, reveling in the carnage he was making. Grinning happily as he spread the inside of her head over the brick surface. Grinning because she was dead. Grinning because he had killed her. Grinning because his parents would be next. Then Hopkins. Then Ash. Then Jessie…

And the black thing grinned with him.

**

James awoke to find that the bed sheets were soaked through with sweat and blood spotted the pillow from a cut on his lip where he had bitten himself. The salty taste of copper made his stomach turn, flashes of Jessiebelle’s dead eyes and her neck pivoted at an unnatural angle added to the sickening revulsion. Her blood had tasted sweeter….

Tears sprung to his eyes and he curled up in a tight ball, whimpering.

“I…I didn’t kill her…I got away…Growlie came and got me….she’s still alive…”

But he could still feel the blood on his hands, warm and moist. Still could taste it in his mouth. It may have only been a dream, a twisted fantasy of what he had wanted to do to her after she had forced herself upon him, but still felt so real.

“She’s…she’s not dead. I wanted to…but I didn’t. It…It was just a dream….”

He closed his eyes and wept.

**

“Hurry up you guys! Professor Oak’s house is just up this hill!”

Delia Ketchum brushed a stray lock of auburn hair out of her eyes, and frowned at her son’s back. “Oh Ash! Slow down!”

The twelve year old ground to a halt and scowled. “But I wanna get there as soon as possible so I can show the Professor my badges!”

“He’s not going anywhere, Ash.” Brock pulled up alongside the boy’s mother and gently took the heavy picnic basket from her hands. She smiled gratefully at him. “No need to rush.”

Ash jiggled up and down on the spot, impatient. “Alright, alright. Whatever. Let’s just go!” He took off in a flurry of dust as he sped up the hill, his eagerness getting the better of him.

“Boys.” Misty grumbled. She patted Togepi gently, making it trill with pleasure.

Delia smiled. “He’s just excited. This is the first time he’s been home since he left on his Pokemon journey. I suppose he just wants to show Samuel how well he’s doing.”

“Uh-huh” Brock strained. The basket weighed a ton. He suspected she had gone a tad overboard with the amount of food she’d packed.

By the time they reached the top of the hill Ash had already summoned Oak to the front door, and was engaged in pleasant conversation. At their approach he turned and greeted them.

“My, my! This is a surprise! First the intrepid Pokemon Master turns up on my doorstep and now the lovely Delia Ketchum arrives with some friends and a picnic basket!” The older man grinned. “What’s the occasion?”

At the word ‘lovely’, Delia blushed. Ash made a face. “Well, it’s a lovely day. And Ash wanted to see you so I thought I’d use that as an excuse to have a picnic.”

Oak nodded. “Ah yes, an excellent idea. About time for lunch anyway, isn’t it?” He stepped aside and motioned into the house. “Please, come in.”

As soon as they stepped over the threshold Ash literally burst, unable to contain his excitement a moment longer. “Professor Oak!” He rifled around inside his jacket and pulled out a few shiny trinkets. “Look at how many gym badges I’ve got!”

The Professor raised an eyebrow. “What about your friends, Ash? You haven’t introduced them yet.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ash replied meekly, slightly embarrassed. He turned to locate his traveling companions, who were both struggling to haul the overstuffed basket onto a nearby coffee table. Delia sat idly on the lounge, minding Togepi and Pikachu.

“These are my friends, Misty and Brock.”

Brock came first, vigorously pumping Oak’s outstretched hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Professor.”

Oak nodded, and then smiled warmly at the young girl standing beside Brock. “And you are?…”

“Misty. Misty Waterflower.” She gingerly shook hands also, a little shy. “Nice to meet you.”

The old man’s smile grew wider. “Well, it’s nice to see that Ash has picked up some nice friends during his travels.”

“Actually, we’re more like strays.” Brock commented. “We just tag along for kicks.”

Oak chuckled at the wry joke, and behind him Ash jumped up and down frantically. “Professor!”

Delia butted in before her son had the chance to chew Oak’s ear off. “You can show your badges to the Professor in a moment, Ash. Let’s go outside first and set up the picnic.”

Ash groaned. “Awww, mom….”

But everyone else had already wandered out the back door, leaving his protests unnoticed. There was a huge amount of space to choose from, as Oak owned a large portion of land in which to give plenty of room to the Pokemon he kept there. They picked a shady spot under a towering maple tree, and Delia spread out a tartan blanket and began to unpack the food. Misty and Brock helped, while Ash continued to hound the unfortunate Professor. Pikachu and Togepi watched the whole scene with mild interest.

“…And see, I even got the badge from Cinnabar! I’ve only got one more gym to go before I can enter the Pokemon League!”

“That’s wonderful, Ash.” Oak settled himself down on the soft blanket and stretched his tired arms.

Ash plunked down beside him, and immediately reached for a sandwich. Misty slapped his hand away, giving him a dirty look.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brock saw Oak reach into his lab coat and bring out a small, leather bound book. The cover was worn and faded, its color a dirty brown.

“What’s that you’re reading, Professor?” Brock asked, hoping to start a conversation.

He turned the book over so that Brock could see the cover title. “Pokemon Mythology of the Medieval World.” He read aloud. The young man raised both eyebrows in interest. “Sounds like a good read. Where did you get it from?”

“Antique book shop.” Oak replied, opening it up to a previously marked page.

“Mythology?” Delia pulled some plastic cups and a bottle of homemade lemonade from the basket and began to pour drinks. “I never knew you were interested in mythology, Samuel.”

“I like to dabble.” He pulled out his reading glasses, and flicked through a few more pages. “Actually, there’s a myth written about in here that’s got me intrigued.”

“Oh?” Delia proffered him a drink. “What’s that?”

“The Hoshek legend.” He took the cup from her, sipping a small taste.

“Hoshek?” Ash garbled around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. “What’s that?”

“A legend about a pokemon, duh.” Misty said matter-of-factly. Ash stuck his tongue out at her.

Oak chuckled. “Yes, it is. But in order to explain to you the myth of the Hoshek I must first give you a little background information.” He pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them on his coat. “Ever heard of a pokemon called Lugia?”

Brock scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Vaguely…it’s a legendary pokemon, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Said to be the eternal guardian of all the oceans of the earth. Over the centuries there have been many proclaimed sightings of Lugia, but like Mew, it’s existence has never been proven.”

“What’s that got to do with the Hoshek?” Misty said suddenly.

“Well,” Oak replied, replacing his glasses onto his face. “The Hoshek legend begins with Lugia. A Hebrew myth, I believe. The story goes that thousands of years ago, when the earth was still young, God choose Lugia to be the keeper of the waters of the earth. Lugia accepted the task, but was told by God that in order to be fit for such an important duty it would have to rid itself of all impurity within it’s soul. It did so, but unfortunately the evil it expelled from itself formed into a new being, Hoshek. Which, translated into Hebrew, means ‘Darkness’. The word itself actually comes from the Bible, it was used to describe the darkness of the universe before God created the world.”

“Oh, I see.” Brock nodded. “Lugia accidentally created an evil twin of itself, then.”

“Yes. That’s a simple way of explaining it.” He took a bite from his sandwich.

“So…what happened next?” Misty was clearly rapt by the entire story. Ash and Delia seemed equally intrigued. Even the pokemon appeared to be listening.

Oak swallowed his mouthful. “Well, the story goes on to say that Lugia, horrified at what it had created, imprisoned Hoshek at the bottom of a great lake, and warned mankind never to venture there.” He took another bite, and continued on. “Unfortunately, a fisherman who was down on his luck decided to go to the lake, despite the warnings, and see if he could catch anything. As soon as he rowed out into the middle of the lake in his boat, Hoshek entered his body and used him to escape from its prison. And ever since it has been spreading its evil across the earth.” Oak grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Not a pokemon you would want to mess with, huh?”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, and how the heck did it get inside him?”

Oak shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s said that Hoshek very rarely takes its true form, preferring to possess the bodies of men and use them as tools for its destructive purposes.” He handed his empty cup to Delia. “May I please have a refill?”

She tsk-tsked as she poured more lemonade. “Honestly Samuel, couldn’t you have chosen a nicer subject to talk about?”

“The kids seemed to like it. In fact, there’s more to tell if you want to hear it.”

Ash’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! What else is there about Hoshek?” The young trainer was getting a real kick out of the whole ‘evil pokemon’ thing.

Oak gulped down his lemonade. “You know Sea foam Island?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” He wiped his mouth. “Back in the late sixteen hundreds there used to be several small towns on that island. The one closet to the coast was called Calypso Town, I think. Its main source of income was fishing, and it had good relations with the other towns on the island.”

Brock spoke up. “Yes, I remember this story. I read it in a history book once. Didn’t the entire town’s population die from some unknown disease?”

Oak nodded. “That’s right. Or so they believe.”

“Did Hoshek have anything to do with it?”

Oak glanced knowingly at Misty, and gave her a sly grin. “Perhaps.”

“Come on, Prof!” Ash yelled in desperation. “Stop teasing and tell us what happened!”

The old man’s grin grew wider. “Alright.” He cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “One spring something strange happened to the people of Calypso. It seemed as though some strange illness had descended on the town. Perfectly sane people would suddenly go mad and start doing terrible and indescribable things. In an effort to stop the problem, the town mayor sent a message to their nearest neighbor, Coral town, and asked them to send over some of their finest doctors and physicians, to see if they could decipher what was happening. The courier took three days to get to Coral, and by the time he had delivered the message and the right people had been gathered and sent on their way, it was close to a week since the mayor had sent his plea for help. When the party arrived at Calypso, they were shocked to find that everyone in the town was dead.”

Misty gasped. “Dead? But how?”

“It appeared that they had all killed each other in a mad frenzy. Only one survivor was found, the mayor, who died shortly afterwards. They tried to get information out of him about what had happened, but most of what he said was little more than meaningless babble. Only one word he said did they understand…Hoshek.”

Ash grinned impishly. “Cool.”

“So they knew what Hoshek was?” Brock asked.

“Yes. Back then it was an active part of folklore. They fled from Calypso, returning only to burn it down. News of the tragedy quickly spread to the other neighboring towns, and soon the entire island was deserted. People were terrified that Hoshek would return to the area and bring more death. However, in recent years many scientists have pointed the finger of blame at diseases such as bubonic plague and syphilis.” He gave a hearty laugh. “It’s funny though. Today what’s left of Calypso is a major tourist attraction. Only for the deep of pocket, mind you. I hear it’s a bit pricey.”

Misty shuddered. “Who in their right mind would want to pay just to see the place where hundreds of innocent people died needlessly?”

“I would!” Ash crowed. Delia glared at him, and he quieted down instantly.

They were all silent for a moment. Delia made a sound, her mood suddenly chirpy again.

“More lemonade, anyone?”

**

“That was a cool story.” Ash commented, swinging the empty basket and being mindful not to accidentally clobber Pikachu, who was perched on his shoulder. “I’ll have to remember it for Halloween.” The sun was low in the sky, and they taking the short walk from Oak’s house to the Ketchum residence, after having bid farewell to the old storyteller.

“Huh.” Misty grunted. “Trust you to have such morbid tastes. I’m just glad the whole thing was just that, a story.”

“What makes you so sure, Mist?” The boy teased. “For all we know Hoshek could be just around this corner, waiting to jump out and rip us limb from limb!”

“Ash Ketchum!” Delia snapped. “You stop tormenting the poor girl right now!”

Ash scowled. Misty grinned.

And Brock was too busy checking out a hot number in a bikini across the street to even care.

TO BE CONTINUED…