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[Completed One-Shot]]{{Pokémon}} Requiem

Coroxn

An extremely equivalent exchange.
[Completed One-Shot]]{{Pokémon}} Requiem

Yeah, so this is an idea inspired by bogleech's top thirteen Pokémon that are 'MOAR HALLOWEEN'. Whatever that means. I'm not sure if I like it at all, but I haven't written any prose in so long.

Requiem
It's so hot.

I flew over this damned desert hundreds of times, and I have to say it didn't leave much of an impreshun. Honestly, it was just a damned inconvenience. A bit of uncomfortable heat that made me sweat. The Pokémon, too, are always pantin' and grievin'. They're supposed to be these great big tools, and they can't do anythin' right.

The damned Staravia. That worthless, useless bird, it's all its fault. We were just flyin' along, happy as could be, and the damned thing decided to pass out on me. Never mind that it was the fourth trip over this dessert in the day, but that was hardly my fault. I was just bringin' the fossils to the lab to get them turned into Pokémon, and just got three useless ones in a row. They're all in my PC Box now, 'cause I'm not gonna train anything as worthless as them and I'm damn sure not givin' them away for free. I was frustrated. Doing things I never got to do because of work, now that I'm takin' some time off, and I nearly prefer work to this excavatin' bull.

And then I'd excavated a new fossil, was flyin' over to the lab to get it turned into a Pokémon and the bird just dropped. Sand was soft as hell, too, barely bruised myself, and the damn thing twists its own neck and croaks on me. It's supposed to built for battlin', worthless thing, what's it doing giving out so easily and leaving me in this forsaken place?

Still, the dessert'll be over soon, and I can go to a nearby town and get somethin' to eat. Reckon I'll be a damn hero then, won't I? Survived my Pokémon's incompetence. I'll have to put my Pokémon through a lot more trainin', when I get back, because I'll be damned before my team's weakness puts me in a posishun like this again.

~~~

It's so hot. I reckon the desert ends soon. It has to, really. How long can the thing be?

It's pretty hard to measure how much distance I've covered, 'cause it all looks the same-just a sea of sand. No real dunes or anythin', just a endless ocean of slight dips and rises that blend together and make it hard to pick out any real landmark you can judge how far you've come by. The only thing around are cactuses, worthless plants if I ever saw any, and there's a good few around here. Always three or four around at any given time. I once heard you can get water from 'em, but I probably won't need to do that. I'll be outta this god-forsaken place soon enough. I might consider it if I get thirsty enough, tho. Probably not. The water could be poisonous, or worse.

I'm a-thinkin' of usin' my Pokémon to get me outta this mess. Probably not, I only got small ones on me right now, and most are pretty slow. Asides, I'm not gonna trust these lot after what that worthless bird did. I can get outta this by myself.

~~~

God, the day was long. But after miles a miles of walkin' with only the cactuses for company, the sun's a-settin'. Suddenly it goes from too hot to too cold. Fancy that, too cold in a desert. It's ridiculous! I hate to do it, it's so undignafied, but I just flop down on the sand and let sleep take me. My bagpack had been stacked up with some sandwhiches and a bottle of water, but those are all gone now. I'd better get out of this damned desert by the end of tomorrow. It's longer than I thought, this hell-hole. Just before I get to sleep, I take out my empty water bottle and jab it into the sand, lid obscured by the sands. It marks the direcshun I should head out in in the mornin', so that I don't forget.

I'm so tired.

~~~

The sunlight gleams off the reflective surface of the bottle's lid. Gleams right into my damned face.

Something's wrong. Obviously. I mean, after all the sun and sweat, I'm not in the best condishun. But still, as the sun glares into my eyes, and I start a-walkin' again, somethin' feels wrong. I shrug. I guess it's just best to get on with it. The water bottle (was it the way I came, or they way I should go? Somethin' in me says the way I should go, and then I'm almost sure. Still, doubt's a bitch) is in the sand, and again, somethin's off about it. Somethin' seems off about everything. Must be me, I guess, gettin' delirious.

I chuckle. None o' that crap's a-happenin' to me. It's for weaker men.

I set off.

~~~

God am I thirsty. If I had a water Pokémon, I'd have it spit some water into my mouth. Don't care that it's touched the filthy beast, at least I wouldn't be so damned hot. Wish I hadn't kicked that Buizel so much it ran away. Deserved it tho, cocky little bastard, always so smiley. Weak as shit, too. I never would'a bothered trainin' it up. Forget the Buizel.

I'm a gettin' a little worried. Surely, it has to end by now?

~~~

The sun is so hot, I just walk through the desert, starin' up at it. Heat just beams from it to me, and my clothes are heavy with sweat. My bones feel dry like sticks, and sand is in my mouth, on my tongue, chocking my throat. Weird lights dance at the edges of my vision. I feel like the cactusus are laughin' at me, and like each grain of sand is mockin' me.

Everythin' just seems so heavy. I shrugged off my bagpack a while ago, and felt better for a time, tho now my clothes seem way too heavy. I had to take off my fancy jacket and leave it behind, which was a real kick in the teeth. I ditched my shirt as well, and the second I did the wind took the sands and covered it up, so that it was as if it was never there. My jeans are so heavy as well, I wish I could kick 'em off, but I'll be damned if I walk into a town half-naked. I'm too fuckin' good for that.

This is just unbearable. I'm gonna take a break, have some of the Pokémon drag me.

A shameful sound escapes me when I realise they're not at my belt. The six little Pokéballs are gone, I must have dropped 'em in the sand. They'll be in 'em forever, lost. I'll never get 'em back. Damn. My best team! This just gets better and fuckin' better!

When I get outta this, I'm gonna head back here, find that Staravia, and kick its corpse. God knows it deserves it.

~~~

Night again. So fuckin' thirsty, thank God the heat is gone, this cold is like heaven. Before I hit the hey, I remember to use somethin' to remember the direcshun I'm apposed to go tomorrow. My shoes, socks, shirt, jacket, hat, belt, everythin' is gone. I take off my watch and use that. Fantastic thing, solid platnum. Cost two employees their jobs, but I'm a-hardly gonna be the biggest C.E.O. in the country and have a third-rate watch, am I? Not like I owed those people anythin' anyway.

Won't waste my time over thinkin' about 'em.

God, I stink. The second I get outta here I'm havin' a long, relaxin' bath.

~~~

The sun again. I hate it so much. My dreams were the best thing that's happened in two days, and the sun ruins 'em. So thirsty, my thoughts are kinda fuzzy. I need water, and there's no damned oasis in sight. Plenty'a cactuses though. I look around for my watch, but it's not there. The fuckin' wind and the fuckin' sand musta covered it up...it could be anywhere around me. Fuck. That. Staravia.

No matter. I got plenty a superficial employees I can fire or corners I can cut to get a new one when I'm outta this mess. But to get outta this mess, I need water. And to get the water from the cactuses, I need something sharp. I wonder over to the ones that are near, three of 'em, and I kick of my jeans. I suddenly feel kinda embarrassed, in front of these cactuses, like they're watchin' me, but they can't be. They're cactuses.

I pull the top button away material, and though it's a tough 'ol bitch I rip it off-destroyin' the jeans in the process. Who cares? Not me.

I use the metal to cut into the cactus. Takes ages, absolutely ages, the skin is so tough, it's unreal. Eventually, I cut deep enough into the swelterin' plant-flesh to reach somethin' cool. Water! Finally! I press my lips to the wound and suck it in.

Sand chokes it's way down my throat, and I splutter it out, wretchin'. I get up to scream my terrors at the cactus, at what a disgrace of a cactus it is to have fuckin' sand in it, but my throat is too try.

It's there that I realise I'm probably gonna die. It's been day or so without water. How long can I last? It don't feel like much longer. Everything in me feels like sandpaper. I visualise me breakin' down, rottin' under the sun, becomin' sand myself. I check the other two cactuses, but them, two, are full o' sand. I turn from 'em and keep walkin'. As I do, I kick of my filthy, sweat-caked underwear, because if I'm gonna cook to death it's gonna be in as great a comfort I can manage. Not like anyone's gonna laugh at me here, the country's most powerful man, so reduced. Out here, I'm as poor as a beggar.

God, I hope I survive.

God, I hate that Staravia.
~~~

I walk.

And walk.

And walk.

And I fall.

I get up.

I walk.

I fall.

I stay down.

~~~

I keep wonderin' what went wrong. There's no way the desert was this long. There's no way I walked in circles-I marked the direcshun that first night with the bottle, I remember, and I saw it when I woke up, sunlight gleamin' off the lid, that I remember thrustin' into the sand. What happened there? Did I remember wrong? Did the sun get to my head? Makes no sense. Makes no sense. Even tho I probably went in the wrong direcshun on the second night, I shoulda cleared the desert in two days. I didn't go around in circles. What went wrong?

"Turn".

My eyes open, I twist around, eager to obey this human voice that could somehow save me, and I see three cactuses, staring, back, inches away from me. I somehow muster up the energy to squeal.They stare at me, a hate and a hunger in their eyes, and in one of their hands, my watch gleams.

Not cactuses, cactus Pokémon. Following me, messin' with me, keepin' me here. Reposishunin' my markers, stealin' my Pokémon. My murderers.

I try to splutter, to say how rich I am in the real world, how much easier their lives could be if they helped me get to a town, or another person. I could even take them and train them myself! Make them so much more powerful, love them, treat them as friends, give them everything they ever wanted, have them live the life of luxury-

One of them interrupts my grovellin' and points a rounded limB at something. I twist my head around to see exactly what. It's that good for nothin' Staravia, broken and twisted, that I've been cursin' under my breath since I came here. I see what they're saying. Goddamn bird takes finds ways to hurt me from beyond the grave. Worthless, worthless.

"I....money...you can't....I'm worth more...than anyone else.....you've ever eaten..."

They loom at me, then at each other, then back at me.

And then they laugh. Their names, over and over again, repeated. "Cacturne! Cacturne!". They clutch their sides, fall to the ground rollin', kickin' their legs.

Three days ago, anyone laughed like that at me, and I'd have 'em ruined.

Out here, the rules are different.

They stop laughin', get up, and take one last long, repulsed look at me, like they're ashamed of what they're gonna have to eat. I guess here, lying, broken, without a single possession or an ounce of the power I wield in the real world, I look pretty worthless too.

They come closer. I see teeth.

Too tired to raise a limb to defend myself.

They laugh, all the while.

Last thing I hear is the mocking laughter that will serve as my requiem.
 
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