Author’s note: Blah. Been sooo damn busy these past weeks. That’s what you get for going to college and doing a course that requires you to attend rehearsals and sing and dance for countless hours on end. Sigh….it’s so hard being a drama queen. But, despite this I have still managed to set aside the time to compose this chap for you. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I must say that Pokemon and Team Rocket don’t belong to me, because if I don’t a leprechaun will appear and eat my feet.

Chapter Five: The Becoming.

I beat my machine.

It’s a part of me; it’s inside of me.

I’m stuck in this dream.

It’s changing me.

I am becoming.

The me that you know had some second thoughts.

He’s covered with scabs.

He is broken and sore.

The me that you know doesn’t come around much.

That part of me isn’t here anymore.

I won’t give up; it wants me dead.

Goddamn this noise inside my head.

Nine Inch Nails: The Becoming.

It was late afternoon by the time Jessie had exhausted herself of her supply of tears and finally resigned herself to trudging wearily back to camp. She had tried asking Meowth for some shred of explanation about the day’s horrific turn of events, but the cat had been less then helpful. Muttering incoherently to himself about foul odors and ‘Bad Things.” The other Pokemon had just regarded her with wide, frightened eyes. She knew that the only real truth she would ever get would ever get would be from James, but the mere thought of him made her feel chilled. “I probably won’t see him anyway,” the thought causing a guilty feeling of relief. He would most likely be miles away by now.

Half walking, half staggering with fatigue, she stopped short as she made out two dim round shapes lying in the grass near the campfire. Taking a tentative step closer, with the Pokemon practically all hugging her, she saw to her surprise that they were pokeballs, glinting softly as they reflected the sun’s rays.

“James…”

They had to be his. In her mind there was no doubt. It seemed as though he had simply thrown them down there.

“Meowth.” She intoned quietly. He looked up at her, and silently acknowledging her request, leapt lithely out of her arms. Her arms now free, she crept forward and gingerly plucked them from the ground, feeling their weight in her hands. Yes, they were definitely empty, assuring her that her earlier assumption was true. That meant that he had been here. Perhaps he had returned, to beg her forgiveness. But finding the camp empty he had left in a flurry of despair, taking her absence as a sign that he would never be accepted again. Perhaps leaving the pokeballs here was a silent message of his own. “I won’t be back. Take care of Weezing and Victreebel for me.”

She gripped them tightly, tears threatening to appear once again. “Damn you, James. Why didn’t you just talk to me? Surely I could have helped you!”

There was a low plaintive sobbing, which she barely recognized as her own, and a single tear escaped the prison of her eye, running its lonely path down her cheek. Suddenly all she wished was for the ground to open up and swallow her.

Something soft nudged her side. She inclined her head slightly to the right, not bothering to wipe her face, to see Meowth gazing at her with an expression mixed with empathy and urgency.

“Jess…I heard something…”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I tink I heard someone crying.”

She laughed mirthlessly at that. “Well yeah, it’s me.”

He shook his head. “No…not you. Dere’s someone else here.”

She opened her mouth to say something, when the faintest sound of stifled whimpering interrupted her. The sound caused her to jolt, whirling around to stare off into the thick foliage. Meowth was right. Those pained sobs, which she had thought to be her own, were in fact drifting faintly out of the forest, testimony to someone else’s anguish. And though the sounds were barely audible, the thrill of recognition raced through her as soon as they reached her ears.

“James!” Leaping to her feet in an instant, she recalled the other pokemon and started purposely off in the direction of the source. Behind her, Meowth made a sound of protest.

Without looking back, she commanded, “Stay here.” And took off in a jog, leaving the startled cat Pokemon behind in her wake.

It didn’t take her long to find him, slumped brokenly against the cracked and twisted truck of an ancient tree, knees drawn up to his chest and his hands fisted painfully in his hair, as his body was wracked with uncontrollable tremors. It was perhaps the single most pitiful sight she had ever seen in her life, and she felt her own tears once again threatening to show.

“James…”

He jumped, head snapping up in unbelievable swiftness, and she saw that the scratches on his face were still seeping bright red blood. He made a low, moaning sound, and pushed weakly away from her in a futile effort to escape.

Without thinking, she crouched down beside his struggling form and placed a hand on his shoulder. “James…please. It’s alright.”

Sudden terror seemed to overwhelm him, and he flinched violently under her touch. “N-no! Please!” He wrenched himself away and scrambled like a wounded animal around to the other side of the tree, fresh tears in his eyes. “Y-you m-mustn’t touch me! Please…” He hid his face in his hands again, his voice small and ashamed. “You could get hurt.”

She followed him, unperturbed. “For Christ’s sake, James! Talk to me! If you’re upset about what happened earlier, well forget about it! All I’m concerned about now is what’s wrong with you!” She knelt beside him again, grabbing him firmly by the arm. He yelped and attempted to squirm away, but she refused to relent. “This past week you’ve been scaring the hell out of me, what with these mood swings and God knows what else! Now tell me, what the hell’s going on!”

He trembled, and pawed weakly at her arm. “Please…”

“No!” The sheer volume of her voice caused him to flinch, and she saw this. Forcing herself to calm, she continued in a quieter, gentler tone. “ This afternoon…God…you terrified me. Why? Why am I frightened of you one moment and then for you the next?” He remained silent, and she shook him in frustration. “Tell me!”

He suddenly exploded in a flurry of activity, pulling himself out of her grasp and screaming. “It’s inside me!”

She stared at him in horrified shock. “What?”

He grabbed at his hair, fisting it painfully, and began banging his head back against the trunk of the tree. “I can’t make it stop! It makes me do those things! I swear….it isn’t me! It isn’t me!”

She backed away slightly, fear creeping up on her at the sight of his ravings. “James, stop it! You’re scaring me.”

He stopped banging his head at looked at her then, and she noticed that his eyes were wild and unfocused, glinting madly in the afternoon sun. “Of course you are, Jessica. I am too.” He calmed a little, but the madness in his eyes did not fade. “I’m scared because it’s getting stronger, you see. Every day I can feel it swallow up a little more of me, taking over, taking control.” He shifted his gaze down to his shaking hands, which he clenched into bloodless fists. “Soon….there’ll be nothing left of me.”

“No…” She shook her head, disbelieving. “Don’t talk like this James. It’s crazy.”

“Yes, it is crazy, isn’t it?” A strange half smile appeared, which disturbed her even more. “To think that soon James will be gone, and in his place there’ll be….the blackness. Just the cold, dark blackness.” He looked at her again, and she inwardly recoiled at the expression on his face. Calm, acceptance and resignation to this terrible fate he had just described to her.

She realized she was crying again, and reached to take his hand. He did not resist. “No. No, I don’t understand. Why are you talking like this? Why do you say that you want to…kill yourself?”

“Kill myself?” He laughed, a dry, joyless sound. “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong. Although that does seem to be a much more favorable alternative.” He took a deep breath, and continued on. “ I’ll be a puppet, with no will of my own.” He pondered deeply for a moment. “Hmmm…doesn’t seem that much different to the way I’m living now, if you really think about it.” At Jessie’s mournful sobs, his tone softened further, and for the first time in days he seemed like the James of old. “Oh, don’t cry Jessie. Please. You know it saddens me so to see you cry. None of this is your fault. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, I just hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive me when the time comes.”

“I already forgive you.” She whispered softly, then surprising them both pulled him into her embrace, resting her tear-stained cheek on his hair. For a few long moments they remained that way, relishing the warm comfort of each other’s bodies, and dimly Jessie realized she had never before held him in such a way. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to simply sit there and hold him forever, but she knew that could never be. So with a resigned sigh, she broke the tender spell between them.

“Let me help you James. Tomorrow…I don’t know…we’ll go back to Viridian. Take you to see a doctor. Maybe Giovanni can figure something out.” She expected him to refuse, but he remained silent. With hope stirring slightly in her heart, she asked. “Will you let me help you?”

“Help me?” He replied flatly. “Well, you can try.”

**

Light faded, darkness rose, and inside him the blackness clawed away in increasing anticipation as its strength grew.

It would happen tonight.

He had known this moment would come, sooner or later. He had prepared himself for it.

“Jessie…”

She had fallen asleep some time ago, he could not tell. For him, it could very well have been an eternity. He wished she were awake, so he could give her his last goodbye, show her for the first and only time the true depths of his feelings for her. But no, that could not be. Besides, it was better this way. She would only get upset if she knew…

Ah! How wonderful these last few hours with her had been. He could still feel the soft warmth of her breast against his cheek as she had held him, cried over him, offered him every once of compassion she had. It had been ecstasy and agony all at once. He had wanted to crush her against his chest, kiss her, taste her, do everything he knew he should but never had the courage to. And now, he never would.

He smiled as he remembered their return to camp, Meowth’s incredulous but accepting stare, a silent welcoming of his old friend. Soft, quiet words exchanged in conversation, awkward yet pleasant smiles, and a simple dinner shared over the campfire. She had retired soon after that, yawning as she announced non-chantly that they would return to Viridian tomorrow. The poor girl, she had tried so hard to make everything seem normal, as though he would still be there when she woke….

Pain ripped through his gut. He grunted, leaning forward and bringing his trembling hands to his face. A feral hiss escaped between his teeth and he knew that it was struggling, rattling the bars of the cage that was his body. He was running out of time….

With an effort, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered to his bag; pulling it open and exhuming it’s contents to get at something at the very bottom. He grasped something cold and hard, and lifted out the heavy length of metal chain, a sturdy padlock attached to its last link, unlocked. A leftover from one of their many failed attempts at capturing Pikachu. Now, it would be used to imprison a creature that deserved to be held captive. He admired it for a few short moments, watching the moonlight glint off the dull metal. He just hoped that it would be strong enough….

Dull pain lanced him again, and he growled. Its efforts were becoming more frequent, more insistent. He had to hurry.

He left the key for the padlock, not wanting to risk the chance that it knew how to manipulate such things. He shuddered as he thought of what could happen if he gave it that chance.

A soft sigh reached his ears, and he turned on his heels to see her, curled on her side in blissful slumber. Completely unaware of his torment and looking breathtakingly beautiful. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts, the soft glowing of her flawless skin in the moonlight, curled lashes against her cheek. Oh! Just to kiss her! Just once…

It would not have it. It thrashed and rolled, snarling. This time, the pain ravaged his entire body, strongest in his head, where images of blood and fire pumped furiously into his brain. He wanted it, to taste the blood and feel the flames in his hands, and inside he felt the bars of the cage beginning to give way….

“No!”

He pushed it back, it fought viciously, but for now he held it at bay. Breathing hard, he looked down on her once again, drinking in the sight of her for the last time. Bending down, he gently pushed back a lock of magenta hair, savoring its silky softness, and then pressed his lips against the warm skin of her forehead, his last token of affection for her. She murmured thickly in her sleep but did nothing more. His sight grew dim as his eyes became moist with tears, and he moved his lips to her ear, whispering.

“Goodbye, Jessica. I love you. Always remember that.”

And with that, he turned and fled, taking the blackness with him.

**

Meowth watched from behind half-closed eyelids as James fled into the dark, the heavy chain clinking in time to his awkward steps.

It had taken every once of his self-control to stop himself from springing into action when he had moved towards Jessie, but he had managed to restrain himself, surprised when James kissed her and whispered something unintelligible into her ear. The scent of the Bad Thing was powerful, but he could tell from the way his body trembled that he was struggling against it, forcing it back down. Jessie had been wise in suggesting they take turns to keep watch over him. It had been dark for only an hour and already the Bad Thing had arrived.

He leapt to his feet, pausing for a moment as he considered whether he should follow or stay behind with Jessie. She would be vulnerable here, all alone, without any kind of protection. Thinking quickly, he snatched up the pokeball containing Arbok and released her, commanding that she stay close to her master and guard her. The cobra nodded her assent, and wasting no time, Meowth turned and picked up the Bad Thing’s (and James’, for his scent was still there, though weak) trail and sprinted off into the night, wondering what terrors awaited him.

**

“Hey Misty. Check it out.”

“What?”

Brock pointed skyward. “It’s a full moon tonight”

She lifted her gaze towards the pale, silvery disc floating in the black expanse, and shrugged. “Yeah. So what?”

A mischievous grin alighted on his lips. “All the crazies will be out tonight.”

Her eyes light up and she laughed, grasping his meaning. “Oh yeah.” She chuckled. “All the were-pokemon.”

“Vampires…”

“Zombies…”

“Boogeyman…”

“Ghosts….”

“Elvis Presley impersonators….”

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

He broke into a full-throated laugh, his entire body shaking. “Never mind.” Unfolding his sleeping bag, he shivered as the wind picked up, causing goose bumps to appear on the exposed skin on his arms. “Man! It’s cold. I wish Ash would hurry up with that firewood.” He crawled inside, zipping it up and snuggling into the warm fabric. “Where the hell has he gotten to?”

“Probably off on some wild pidgey chase, or going to the toilet behind a tree.”

They laughed, the sounds echoing off into the dark night.

**

“Next time I’m choosing paper.”

It always boiled down to that stupid little game, and he always lost. “Stupid rock.”

So now he was trudging miserably along in the impossibly dark forest picking up pieces of dead wood for the fire, a fantastic way to spend the evening. At least Pikachu had enough compassion to share the burden with him.

Speaking of which…

“Pikachu?” Ash called, balancing the pile of kindling in one hand and the torch in the other. Where was the little creature? He’d been just a couple of steps in front a few moments ago.

“Pikachu?” He took a few cautious steps forward, and growing frustrated and a little scared, called out again. “Come on, Pikachu! Stop fooling around! It’s time to head back!”

Walking further ahead into the foreboding darkness, he heard a rustling sound in the distance, something akin to the sound a small pokemon makes when scurrying through the thick underbrush.

“Pikachu?” Peering out into the moonlight night, he was just able to make out the rodent’s silhouette at the edge of a small clearing. Beyond the mouse, there was another shape, crouched low at the base of the tree in the middle of the clearing.

Ash felt his skin prickle with a strange sensation, something that told him to turn around and head back, but he ignored it and stepped up behind the electric pokemon, seeing that his best training partner was rigid where he stood, fur standing on end, muscles twitching in agitation. Leveling his torch over the pokemon’s head, he focused the beam on the shape at the base of the tree, and started at what he saw.

It was James, crouched low on his knees, holding a length of chain tightly in his shaking hands. His jacket lay discarded at the other side of the clearing, and Ash could see that the black undershirt was soaked through with sweat, clinging damply to his body. Rivulets of perspiration dripped from his hair and face, and his whole body shook uncontrollably, as though he was about to be sick. As the light from the torch played over his face, his head snapped up, so quickly it made Ash jump. And he could have sworn that his eyes had reflected the light as it passed over his face. “People’s eyes don’t reflect like that, do they?”

“Well, well! If it isn’t the young hero himself!” James’ voice sounded strange, distorted and much too rough. Far different from his usually deep, cultured tones. At the sound of his voice, Pikachu flinched and hissed. He laughed, the sound more like a growl than anything else.

“Looking for someone to save, are we?” He shuddered and gripped the chain more tightly in his hands, then continued on. “Well, I’m afraid you’re out of your league now, boy.”

Despite the growing dread building in him, Ash boldly took another step forward, focusing the beam on James’s face. Once again, his eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. “What are you doing?”

James lurched awkwardly to his feet, still holding the chain, face contorted with pain. He shuddered, as though going through some sort of inner struggle. When he looked up again, there was a twisted half-smile on his face.

“I’m…I was going to restrain myself. So no-one would…so no-one would see what it is that I will become….” He shuddered again, so violently that Ash thought he was going to be sick. He straightened finally, and Ash saw to his horror that his eyes seemed to have become sunken, blazing pools of liquid hate, leering at him from the darkness.

“But you already see it, don’t you, boy?” He laughed, the sound inhuman, a snorting growl. “And to think I put all this effort into trying to keep it a secret! What’s the point now? You already know!”

He looked down at the chain, and pulling his lips back into a snarl, tossed it into the undergrowth, his breath coming in heavy, coarse pants. “ Don’t need that anymore, do I? Now that you’re here, everything will be just fine, won’t it?”

Ash backed up a step. He could see the danger in the situation. James was completely insane.

“Aw, where ya goin’ hero?” His voice was deepening with every second, his speech deteriorating rapidly. A thin line of salvia dripped from his bottom lip, and he gnashed his teeth viciously. “Aren’t ya supposed to jump in an’ save the day? “Kill da monster an’ shit?” He stalked forward, and Ash yelped, stumbling backwards in fear. Pikachu darted in between his legs.

“Wha’s a matter? Ya scared, shithead?” He moved again, body tensed like a predator about to pounce on a hapless victim, and Ash turned, groping blindly through the thick tangle of bush, pushing through to the other side. Behind him, James let out an ear-piercing shriek.

“Come back ‘ere, mutha fucker!”

Something plowed into the bush, screaming and roaring in fury as it savaged it, and Ash wasted no time, turning on his heels and fleeing with Pikachu close behind. He didn’t dare look back, for fear that the creature that had been James would catch him. And he knew that if that happened, it would be his end.

To be continued….

The inspiration for this chapter came from a book called Thor written by Wayne Smith. Frickin’ excellent book, if you like werewolf stories then it’s a must. They made a film adaptation of it too, called Bad Moon, but it’s absolute crap. You’re better off just reading the book. Anyway, just thought I’d better say that so people don’t start accusing me of using other people’s idea’s and then claiming it as my own. Hope you liked it, and I’ll have the next chapter up as soon as I can.

SiS.