Dust to Deceit, Take Two

[Dilasc]

If you remember Dust to Deceit from a year and a half ago here at Serebii, then you'll be surprised to know how much it has changed in plot. Read for yourselves. Dust to Deceit is rated PG-13, just to be on the safe side. Be warned, there are themes of sexuality, including homosexuality and bisexuality, (though mostly of the female variation,) but they do not detract from the story. If anything, they add quite a few important themes and plots, but I'd just be spoiling too much if I told you all of it.

I am pleased to bring you a trainer fic unlike any other Vengeance, Cults, and Demons are only the beginning of the originality that is Dust to Deceit. There are aspects of space travel, not so genetic sciences, and lots and lots of detail. Where Pokemon have chances to have first person perspectives, and legendaries have their own personalities. Beware the gratuitous existence of Lugia and Moltres. Anyway, on we go

Dust to Deceit Notification List - Do you like Dust to Deceit? Do you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or interlude and want to be there asap to read it. Well, here's your chance Just let me know by either replying here, or PMing me if you're shy or something (though you're better off sending a repky here, seriously,) and I will send you a Private Message, written by yours truly

Who's on the List:
Nintyweb
blackemerald
Pikachuu
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Thus, slowly but surely, I am smiling on the inside. More and more readers are making their way here, and I cannot help but smile.



Intro... this is to get all you newcomers interested and put you on the edge of your seat and the edge of reality in Dust to Deceit's most twisted and bare nature.

It rained in red. A torrent of crimson droplets fell from greying orange sky, as clouds of a dark, sickly red did little to block out the night sky above, meaning that this rain, was anything but natural. The droplets were warm, and sticky, bathing the ground in warm, fresh hemoglobin. Even the stars looked bleak, and a bright, sickly green as well.

The grass was dead, dried up, and crinkly. It was as hard as iron, but frail enough to disintegrate into powder at a simple touch. As all this happened, Phillip Molson gasped in horror. He could hardly believe that this... this Armageddon, was a reality. As he glanced about the dying red soaked earth, a sinister laughter caught his ear, and from what he could see, it looked as though there were five laughing faces, floating in midair.

Those faces, as strange as they were, terrified the boy, though he knew nothing about any of them. At that, one of the faces approached him, a grin upon its frightening face. “The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” it said. It almost sounded monotonous yet whispery, as though it were being chanted.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!” another one said as it floated towards him from the sky above. The emptiness of their facial forms were dead and void of any appearance whatsoever. There were no eyes, or mouths, just thin faces shrouded in a mysterious shadow.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

This time, at the loud outburst of the five monotonous, shadowed faces, the ground began to shake, and the sky suddenly darkened. The reason for this darkness was scary in its obviousness. In the sky was a giant sphere of cratered grey and white... and it was drawing closer and closer to the ground.

This, Phil concluded quickly, was the moon, pulling closer and closer every second, the ground beneath him beginning to crack, as though the entire planet were being wracked by seismic doom, and with the moon hurtling to the planet like a giant meteorite, the idea wasn’t too unfathomable.

The gravitational pressure was becoming to much. Phil could not hold his ground any longer as he suddenly felt so heavy, he landed face first in the grass, shattering the delicate, dry blades beneath him to a powdery nothingness He was drenched in red blood, and the scary thing was, some of it was coming from his hand.

As he attempted to reach up, his blood soaked hand trembled violently, as he felt the gravitational pressure of the moon rip away at him. He couldn’t even muster a scream under this pressure, not as though anyone would hear him. Again, as he lay on the dead, bloodied grass, his head managed to lift itself upwards in fear as he saw the five shadowy faces. Their emptiness terrified him more than the Earth’s impending doom.

In an instant, Phil felt himself being ripped from his dream state as he was violently rippeds back to the world of the awake. The vision of raining blood haunted his eyes, as the sight of the moon so close to impact terrified him greatly.

“The Viral Storm of Souls and Hell!”

The voices repeated it one more time, as he began to stir. The funny, yet at the same time horrifying thing was, he could have sworn he heard the shrill, faint whisper of the end of the chant even as he was no longer haunted by sleep.

END INTRO

List of Chapters and Interludes thus Far

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 1
Chapter 1: Food for Hate
Interlude 1: A Copernican Complex
Chapter 2: Dile M for Murder
Chapter 3: The Days of Our Lies
Chapter 4: The Trial of Tears and Blood
Chapter 5: The Farce Will Be With You, Always
Chapter 6: It's All Inside
Interlude 2: They Might Be Gnats
Chapter 7: In Chef's Clothing
Chapter 8: Family Guys

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 2
Interlude 3: Don't Steal My Thunder
Chapter 9: Clay is Thicker Than Water
Chapter 10: Boom, Straight to the Moon
Chapter 11: Embrace of the Conspire
Interlude 4: Chew the Rat With Me
Interlude 5: Sweet Dreams, A Bird of the Flame

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 3
Chapter 12: In Which We Begin... Again
Chapter 13: A Series of Misfortunate Suspense
Chapter 14: Sewer and Later


These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 4a
Chapter 15: A Lavender Hair Experience

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 5
Chapter 16: Of Mice and Mend
Interlude 6: In Clode We Trust
Chapter 17: Passion of the Mice
Chapter 18: Toto-ly Dour
Backlog 1: Missionary Impossible

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 6
Chapter 19: Dinner and a Moving
Chapter 20: The Spider Insider
Chapter 21: The Calm Beefore the Swarm
Chapter 22: Bee'd Wrath and Beyond

These Chapters/Interludes are on Page 7
Interlude 7: Burns of Steel
Chapter 23: Bugger Off With His Head
Chapter 24: Mommy Drearest

​

Now... on with the show. Don't forget to submit reviews, folks

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 1: Food for Hate

“Goddamn it!” snarled a voice of rage and anger. The fury seethed in every word as they left the lips of the boy who enunciated them. “What possessed you to do such a thing?” he cried again as he stamped his foot for the ninth time in two minutes towards the warm grass below him, leaving little noise in his temper tantrum

Phillip Molson was filled with rage. A scowl marred his otherwise decent looking face. Wavy brown hair streaked down towards the back of his neck, and his green eyes deepened to a dark and angered shade. By his foot stood a short and confused blue creature.

Crocodilian in shape, this beast stood its ground bravely upon two legs, and had a frown currently sweep across its long snout. Its back, which covered in small red spines, stood on edge in fear. It tapped bravely upon the leg of the boy before him, fearful of knowing there would be consequences.

It took but not even a split of a split second to get the response as the boy spun around and continued to question angrily. “Why did you kill her?” he asked in utter loathing as he glared down the creature during the calm before the scorn. “Why?” he repeated, emphasizing heavily upon the first word, as if to leave a brutal truth be known. He lifted the creature by the nape of the neck with a forced and tight grasp. “You’re worthless to me...” he continued as he proceeded to toss it to the ground.

The pain the small crocodilian beast felt was indeed harsh, but it wouldn’t dare fight back. After all, it knew the cause of the boy’s anger, and thus felt guilty.

Phillip’s anger was indeed understandable to a point. It all started three days ago. He found his sister… dead. Where was this all? It was at a cave of many of these blue, reptilian beasts. His eyes caught their glances, and tears of anger began to well in the boy’s eyes. The sight was simply too much He could not bear to watch them feast upon his younger sister’s remains, which is no doubt what they’d intend to do, or so he believed.

It was saddening news and a river of tears flowed at the funeral that was held back in town the next day. To make matters worse, new trainers would be able to receive starting Pokemon in two days, and Phil’s sister was to be a new trainer. Though his father suggested against it, he sighed and replied, “Why not… it may take my mind off of it. Maybe I can live her dream for her. Not like I have any dreams of my own.” It was a reasonable logic. You can never live your dreams if you were dead. In his mind though, he knew he needed a change in his life, and this would be the perfect excuse.

Pokemon Journeys, as they were called, were perhaps one of the biggest mysteries the world would ever have to deal with. People, often children, would embark into the unknown with all but themselves, the clothes on their back, and perhaps a small amount of money. Of course, they’d also have creatures known as Pokemon, which were the person’s weapon of defense, as they traveled country in search of glory, excitement and most of all, they were in search of themselves. It was said to be a truly rewarding experience, yet one that could lead to total shame as well... if not reserved for those with a lack of concern for, or an immunity to death. Sara Molson, apparently, wasn’t as immune to death as the child could have hoped to have been.

The day came fast enough however, and trainers went to take their choices. There were three choices in stock for trainers that day. There was the bluish-green quadruped, Bulbasaur. The tinted green, leafy seed upon its back seemed to indicate some verdant power was hiding within. Perhaps a beautiful flower was waiting on the inside, but Phillip had no idea.

Next to it, an orange, baby chicken stood with beady black eyes and a lithe form, shaped like the flame of a lit candle wafting calmly in the wind. Its wings, stubbly and as hidden from reality as they were, were too small to enable this creature the gravity defying power of flight. It was no doubt to the grumpy boy that this was a frying chicken. It looked weak and innocent, but then again, it looked much better than option three.

The last option was… Totodile. It was the accursed reptilian species of sister murderer Phil would be damned if his hands were forced to touch the forsaken murderer, unless he were to be ringing its neck.

He pulled out of the possibility of a staring contest as quickly as possible. The more he looked, the more he felt inclined to ring his hands around its dastardly neck, ruining his likely chance of pursuing his sister’s dream. Phil didn’t care though. Gator genocide seemed to be the order of the day, and like the revenge that it was, it was a dish best served at absolute zero tolerance.

With a shrug, he decided that he may as well see who else was here with him. The first person his eyes came across seemed to be female, and one with a certain familiarity at that. With her rather pale complexion, she looked about twelve years of age. Her long, lithe green hair cascaded down the back of her neck like an endless field of grass. At the bridge of her small nose were deep pools of mud brown for eyes. For attire was a simple red t-shirt that hid not her slowly growing feminine body, and below, she seemed to wear a knee length skirt. It all appeared itself in a rather short package that vaguely past five feet in height, though she was sitting down, so it was hard to tell.

Yes… she was very familiar. It was Gina Meshing, a friend of his departed sister. Though he himself had seen her a few times, he had only once seen the girl actually with his sister. That however, was a few years back. Now however, he’d almost be damned, but he had to admit, she looked rather attractive, or would be in due time. She was quite appealing in his eyes, perhaps enough to one day be worth a good roll for a little fun and stress relief.

He had once heard, from his sister a few years back that some of her friends liked him. Why anyone would like a slightly overweight, introverted loner was beyond his comprehension. Besides, what the heck should nine or ten year old girls be doing by falling in love anyway? They should just be thinking of the fun the human body could have, for that was one of the few pridings of not only Kertonmel, but all of Mongolia, which happened the country that Kertonmel was situated in.

As Gina noticed his stare, she smiled, turning away quickly, and Phil turned his attention to the second human present. The other person to be there today looked quiet. His dark blue eyes seemed to stare with a most unfocused concentration of the absoluteness of nothing. To further the strangeness of his appearance, his skin was dark toned. In layman’s terms, he was a negro. As far as he knew, few dark skinned people ever had blue eyes, or anything other than brown at all. Regardless, he was very awkward, and probably someone who’d best be left alone for the entirety of his life.

A sigh escaped Phillip’s lips as he awaited the fate that was to come. ‘Well, its either the Bulbasaur or Torchic for me, it is.’ The choice between them however, felt tough to make, but thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Wilbur Hailar Brenetmos walked into the room.

“Ah... you’re all here.” he smiled. This was a man of intrigue, for a fair amount of Kertonmel’s Pokemon research was dealt with by this very man. Though said to be in his fifties, one could say he were thirty-five, if he simply dyed the whitening spots on his black, curled hair. His mustache was a thick black too, though whitening and age has also given it a grayness about it. His green eyes blinked as he stared over the three youngster who would be receiving starting Pokemon today.

He smiled as he looked the three trainers over. Youth like theirs was a blessing. It was a time of joy, pleasure, and fun... and Brenetmos always regretted how he wasted his time. “I take it I know why you are all here.” he grinned, as all three youths nodded, even the one who seemed to stare into space. It was as though that boy’s mind was one tracked, and nothing else even existed at all. “Ah, Gina. Good to see you.” he smiled to the girl, giving her a firm handshake.

“Hi.” she smiled. Her voice seemed calm as if she knew him well.

“And you I presume are Mitchell Parson.” Wilbur smiled, as he turned to face the Negro in question. smiled, “It is good to meet you.” he paused “Uh, hello?” he repeated again, vying for the boy’s attention.

The boy stared up at the man and nodded, “Eh? Oh, yea, hi.” he spoke quickly, and in rather reclusive manner, as though he thought less is more, and people were meant to be avoided.

He finally turned his attention to the boy. “Ah, Phillip Molson. I heard the bad news.” he said with a frown. “Sara was truly a good person, and will be missed.” he chuckled, for half a second, before snapping back to reality. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Eh,” Phillip said, falsely enthusiastic. “Don’t worry yourself with it. Just stop talking!” He demanded in a not so friendly tone.

The professorial man simply let it drop, for it was no use bringing up more sad endings on a day of new beginnings. “Well, since your choice to take this up was recent, I’m afraid that you’ll have to go last.” he said.

With a shrug for a response, the professor continued. “Well then,” he smiled as he went on to explanations of sorts. Descriptions about each Pokemon were brief and hardly enlightening. All the while the odd, and zoned out Mitchell seemed to be picking at his fingernails. Especially interesting were the positive things he had to say about Totodile. Well, it was interesting in a what the hell is this guy thinking sort of way.

“Yea, wonderful choice I love murder cases ” blurted Phil in sheer spite, as metaphoric venom spewed from each and ever lingering syllable. This of course, caught him the stares of all three people in the room. He himself had been shocked by the fact that he had dared to interrupt, and a slight flustering discomfort formed in a deep red shade upon his face and cheeks. “Oops... uh, never mind.”

The science man pushed back some sad truths he knew were true and proceeded. “Gina, you’re up first.”

The two people’s turns seemed to come and go, with Gina choosing Bulbasaur, that weird Negro taking the Torchic. This of course, did not settle well with the angst-filled teen. In fact, he downright hated the thought.

“Well, Phil, it seems that, um... elimination, has made your selection easier.” the professor smiled. He stood up and brought towards the boy a blue colored Pokemon. “Congratulations to you all!” the professor smiled.

Phil however, nearly snapped. His mind’s eye saw his sisters dream dissolve as though it were cotton candy in a pool of water, shattering like a great vase of very high value. He had failed his dearly departed sibling. He could not fulfill her dream with the use of a murderer.

 

[Act]

I figured I'd read this. Just to get myself on the ins when it gets like 50 bajillion replies because you're on of the 'authors', ya know?

Yeah -.-...

Anyway...

Hatred is a feeling of regret, a feeling of fear, and chaos, all released, usually violently, in a package of pure rage. It spares nobody. Everyone has something that makes them tick like a time bomb of anger. Nobody can escape this feeling... nobody!

I know this wasn't the intent, but I started giggling here... This is so, so forced. I feel like you're yelling at me, "Nobody, alright? DAMMIT, NOBODY!!!one1" It's very strange, and it's not working for effect for me.

fourteen year old

Should be hyphenated.

the real murder was not a man.

Do you mean murderer?

I'm not getting why, especially at fourteen, he has to 'take her place'. That's def not canon, so I'd explore it a litle.

Phillip knew Brenetmos, or rather, he knew of him. His younger sister, rest her soul, was well acquainted with him. She had visited his lab often, and had a great curiosity. It was a thirst that needed to be quenched. It was only natural that on this day, this day of supposedly new beginnings, that Sara Molson would be one of three youngsters to go out into the world with a pokemon and explore the country of Kithiox, and partake in a grand, supposedly thrilling quest.

This paragraph is weird. You sound like you're going to go into a monolog about Professor Jace, but then say that Sara was a curios girl, and then switch to present tense with her leaving. I'm having a WTF moment, if you don't mind.

“More like a beginning to hell.” Phil snidely spoke aloud to absolutely nobody. Giving

Use a comma in the dislogue here, not a period.

This may be just me being very, very tired, but Phil isn't getting my sympathy here for some reason. I think the tone here may be poor, but usually I'm easy to sway emotionally and it's just not happening. If anything, it's a little annoying. Shouldn't he be, you know, mourning, as opposed to leaving on a journey if he's really that upset?

Suffice to say, Phil was one who rarely enjoyed a euphoria, and this was no exception, with three people staring right at him.

This sentence sounds little purple, like you threw big words in there to sound pretty. The syntax is a little weird, and in the end I don't really know what you mean.

The next person he noticed was far younger than Brenetmos. Heck, she was a bit younger than him.

I think you got something mixed up here. You def don't jump from 'far younger' to 'a bit younger'. Vice versa, maybe.

---

Well, this isn't that bad. The plot, though a good idea underneath it all, is a little flawed. The prose is pretty good, not great or excellent, but good. Phil annoys me a lot and seems awfully unrealistic, almost like a dramatic soap opera stereotype of what he's supposed to be.

The chapter was sort of inconclusive and there wasn't anything too extravagant about it, so um... good luck with it.

 

[Dilasc]

Act: You're absolutely right. It was pure rubbish, that's why I've decided to just go with the original (that and I found the program that the original was written in, meaning I could actually open the old files and rework them.)

As such, until otherwise noted, the original is back. Huzzah people!

 

[Dilasc]

I decided to add a new chapter here. An interlude of sorts, it introduces a somewhat cultish faction in the world that this occurs. Allow me to introduce the Orbital Occult, who are fanatical space seekers in a pokemon world.

Interlude 1: A Copernican Complex

Dressed in a hooded green robe, a man stood by an altar in the middle of a dimly lit room. The source of this light was a holographic projection of the solar system, with planets, asteroids, and satellites of scaled, yet accurate sizes, with the earth the size of a fist, and the sun as large as a door. White mist swirled about this man as a look of deep meditative concentration filled his eyes, and protected his mind from any disturbances.

All in all, this was a common practice for a member of the Orbital Occult. Considered a shunned religion of sorts, due to its strange pathos and even more peculiar ethos, it is considered on par with the like of satanic cults. Rather than relying on an all knowing deity, or leaving their fate in the hands of mythical beasts, the Occult has followed a path far greater, far larger than the simplicities of Earth.

The power of the Occult came from the sun, lunar satellites, and the planets. All in their most brutal, and scientific truths. As such, Venus is no land of love, for the harnessed power from Venus is that of the greenhouse and the noxious cloud. For Neptune, there is no water. For Neptune, the power of immense, speedy wind was the calling.

Most members and followers feel a need for answers, of the universe, life, themselves, and a greater purpose far beyond the control of a monotheistic deity, and definitely beyond the power of actual Pokemon themselves. What better power than some of the largest entities in the known universe.

The man looked upwards, gazing directly into the holographic sun that was straight above him. He raised his hands, and with clenching and unclenching of his fists, he began to speak rites of solar summoning. Calling upon the Great Orbital Defensive, the only GOD the Occult truly had to worship.

“Great nuclear reactor in the sky,” he began, “bringer of daylight, heat, life, and skin cancer!” He took a pause as his left hand touched the hologram, making it losing its holographic intangibility, causing it to be solid and whole. “Ultraviolet, and Infrared combine! I beseech the Sun!”

As he spoke the words, the sun disappeared from the holographic placement, causing the room to dim slightly, before it appeared, smaller, but still just as bright, rotating around the man’s hooded head. The wrinkles of his face could be seen, as could his fading hair, that was just far too yellow to be considered blonde, his eyes empty of all but their whiteness, and a few red lines as he sat in trance and deep concentration.

The mist at his feet calmed, as the man’s breathing picked up for a few seconds to catch a pause. Then, a few seconds later, he resumed, “Next I seek our sister planet,” the man yelled to the empty air, “I call upon the volcanic bed, and noxious swirl of our closest neighbor!” His hand reached out and grasped the holographic image of a swirling brown, almost the exact same size as the Earthly hologram. “Morning Star, Evening Star, lend me the essence of Venus!”

With that, the Venus hologram disappeared, and without any noticeable dimming, joined the sun in revolving his head at a shrunken size, though far less to scale compared to the Sun.

“Now!” he yelled, not taking a breather, “I seek the great gas giant!” he yelled, “Keeper of the red, and stormy trademark, thrice our planetary size!” his hands reached up for a very colorful hologram that seemed as big as a large beach ball. Save for a single red spot at the bottom edge, which spun every so often, the planet was a spectacle of peach, orange, pink and white. Around it “I summon the keeper of the Galileans, the tumultuous sulfur, the watery core, and the two giants!” At this, smaller spheres became visible around the colorful sphere. The one closest to the ball of red was the most colorful of all. It was mixed with yellows, and reds, and whites, and was perhaps no bigger than a pinky. Slightly further away were three more spheres, their color was a simple dark brown. “Puller of asteroids, I desire Jupiter and it’s Jovian satellites! Io, Ganymede, Europa, Callisto.”

At this, the giant beach ball and its four satellites swiftly disappeared, and began to revolve around his head, of course, at a much smaller size, the four Galilean satellites revolving around the small Jupiter at about the size of a few grains of sand.

With that, the man broke his focus, and in his eyes, the natural brown faded back into existence, surrounding a black pupil. “Now, show me the way to Gretkan.” he said, “I beseech the power of some of our mighty planets to bring us a path to the giant planet of life! Open the worm hole of space and time, and let me scry the future!”

At that, a vortex in front of his face appeared, and illuminated the room with bright, mystical light appeared in front of him in a swirling, sky blue vortex. Within, a vision of a creature was seen. The creature had the shape of a gas pump, with four gas pumping ‘arms’ freakishly enough, and had a swirling vortex of purple and green swirl about in every which way, and atop that central gas dome, a singular, yellowish-green eye sat, on an eye socket attached by a simple cord.

“Vortexaco!” the man gasped in realization, “The gas master who can rip a big one to break the bounds of time and space. Of course!” He smirked, “With this godly creature’s help, I can build a portal to Gretkan, and build a new civilization on an inhabitable, and humongous planet, nearly the size of Jupiter!”

With that, he laughed a laugh that sounded a mix between ecstatic and maniacal. This was his chance, his fate, and destiny! It was written in the stars of the Occult’s future, to escape earth and eke a new life on this colossal planet.

 

[Dilasc]

Because I'm such a nice person, I figure I'd describe a bit about Gretkan. The question is, why am I actually bothering, other than that lame excuse of a reason above. Is it to entice more readers? To shamelessly bump? Because I enjoy it? Rumors say that the reason may even be different than that. Its up to you to decide! Of course, I won’t reveal TOO much yet, or I won’t have a chance to slowly release this fictitious science. Ok, so the real reason is that foir maybe a few days, my original work on the next chapters is stuck in a flooded room, all thanks to eight days of rain. So I'm gonna be nice and offer more stuff even as I suffer at a different computer.

Gretkan is a huge, and obviously fictitious planet that resides many, many light years away from Earth. It is huge! It's larger than Saturn, nearly as big as Jupiter. The thing about Gretkan is that its air is breathable by humans and thus, most Pokemon can breath as well.

Gretkan orbits at about one hundred fifteen million miles away from its main star, meaning that it takes about ten and a quarter minutes for light to reach it. It completes its year in about five hundred twenty two days. A full day on Gretkan is about fourteen hours, meaning the planet is somewhat larger at the equator than it is north to south, like most planets have to some lesser degree.

The star that Gretkan revolves around is smaller than the sun. It is a white star, and is therefore hotter, and has a few billion years on the sun. This star has been named Lylirac. There are four other planets orbiting Lylirac

 

[Dilasc]

Hmm, seems nobody’s reading... meh! It won’t slow me down, nor will the two star rating I mysteriously have attained. Here is the revamped and spruced up chapter two. Don’t forget to reply. I would have had it up sooner if my basement wasn’t flooded in. Really, it was pretty bad, but luckily all is well now.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 2: Dile M for Murder!

“Now, before you go, you might wish to pick up some essentials right here and now.” it was Mr. Brenetmos. “As for you Mitchell,” he looked to the dazed out, dark skinned boy “I think you’d best be going.”

The boy nodded, and with nay a word strode slowly towards, then out the door. A certain sense of creepiness seemed to disperse from the air as he left, for his lack of contact with the seemingly real world seemed all but disturbing.

“So… what was with that kid?” Phil wondered. Despite the vengeance that weighted down on his mind like five tons of finely mason crafted bricks, he simply had to know what gave.

“Mitchell, well, the boy has ADD.” Brenetmos sighed. It was a sad fact of life. Pokemon and humans alike could oh so suddenly come down or be born with a mental or physical debility.

“Advanced Dungeons and Dragonites?” he asked, “That hardly sounds bad. I mean I’m not a fan but if…” he was cut off, as the mustached man began again.

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil nodded in understanding. It was, after all, not in Phil’s best interest to poke fun at those less fortunate than himself. “That was hardly funny, Phillip.”

“Uh, Mr. Brenetmos,” began Gina in confusion, “Would he really be, uh,” she paused, a word like sane or stable would just sound wrong, “having trouble with something so meager?”

“He...” the man paused, the least bit happy with himself. “No, I have to apologize. He really has severe PDD, Pervasive Developemental Disorder. I do not know how I mixed those up.” He sighed, he feeling of embarrassment diminishing quickly as he resumed explanation, “His mother suggested he have himself one in order to help him out. He isn’t going to be adventuring at all.”

“So that means… it doesn’t matter what Pokemon he has! Damnit!” Phil growled at this realization. “Maybe I can still catch him and switch! I can get rid of this murderer and be done with…” he blinked… Busted! Caught! Pwned! Abort mission! All your base are belong to us! “Uh, I mean to say…” he trailed. He couldn’t find the words for the situation. He was caught bloody red handed and the vengeance had yet to be even remotely fulfilled.

Mr. Brenetmos however, looked stern as he heard the boy. His expression was of even more utmost seriousness than before, and his words rang with a sense of command. “Say no more.” he said firmly. “I’ll talk with you about this later, Phillip.”

“Uh, ok.” he shrugged. ‘Bide your time and your revenge shall be assured.’ his mind was happy with the thoughts of death. The anticipation was hard to resist, but what had to be done was done. For now, he’d wait, for he loved chocolate, and anything better, had to be worth the time.

Brenetmos made things clear as he went on to provide the basics for starting trainers. A few Pokeballs, a Pokedex. It should, for those who know, be obvious, that these are the basics that every trainer receives when at their ‘Lab of Origin’. Mind you, it was nary a long explanation. The time spent was mostly finding the Pokeballs to provide for trainers.

“Well then,” went the professorial man as the two kids were all geared up. “I guess my work is done.” He exhaled greatly in relief, making the room smell of odd odors. “What happens from hereon is up to you.” he said, as if a riddling prophet was in his heart, soul, and mind. “If you don’t mind… I believe I need to speak to you alone Mr. Molson.” he eyed Gina. “I’m sorry Gina, but I hope you understand.”

With an understanding nod, the girl with green hair was on her way. Once she was out the door, and shut the door, the scientific man looked at Philip. “It seems you are angry about something.” he began, as he addressed the boy in a counseling manner. “Care to explain?” he asked in false wonder.

“I…” Phil thought, carefully considering his next words extra carefully. “I... just didn’t want the Totodile.” his shifty eyes betrayed the honesty of his words. But he was transparent to the professor long before he arrived to the lab all together.

“I thought you were not one to lie. You’re a horrible actor too.” the professor shrugged, sighing afterwards as he moved on. “Getting to the point, I know you feel that this thing killed your sister.”

This infuriated the boy. How he knew, he knew not. He would damn well be finding out, if his anger could be kept under wraps. “It did!” he exploded. “I saw it with my eyes! It’s an abomination!” he stamped his foot in thunderous anger and would have cracked the earth open if he had the might of a god.

“I’m afraid your anger is fueled by a false lead.” the man replied. “Working in the field of science and medicine isn’t specialized right from the start. I spent some time in the field of Forensics when I was younger, I know what is what.” he added. “I helped the examination of the body. The way she apparently died was not the cause of this creature.” he said, “Let the Totodile out of its Pokeball. I think it too should know all this.” this was not a suggestion, it was a demand, and Phil knew he had no choice.

With an extreme game of mental warfare with his conscious, Phil hesitantly unleashed the aquatic reptile. “Ok, so now the killer is in the open!” he remarked.

Brenetmos however, ignored the snide words, and instead opted to continue speaking. “You think fate is being cruel and unjust with an unlucky draw.” he explained. “Yet, truth be told, I planned you to get this creature the whole time.”

“Wh… WHAT?!” he nearly exploded five times worse than before. His eyes went wider than a football with pupils bigger and more thunderous than bowling balls. “You… you traitor!” he blurted. He felt not only vengeful, but now he was deceived, betrayed, and backstabbed! “I feel the urge to kill you too, but you’re not the murderer!” he bellowed in rage, tears nearly forming in watery eyes.

“Your anger is understandable. However, I assure you that this creature isn’t a murderer.” the professor explained as calmly as he could under this pressure. “Trust time, Phillip, to reveal all things.” he explained. “I know you will see the truth. You may likely never find the true killer, but finding false alternatives will not help the matter in the least!” the mans face was flustered from the burning heat of the room. It was after all, nearly Summer, and living on an inland nation meant blazing heat. “I’m sure your sister wouldn’t want you to kill an innocent.”

“Fine.” sighed Phillip in defeat as he picked up the Totodile by the nape of its neck and began to walk. As he escaped the sight of the sagely Pokemon expert, his grip tightened, and his words were quiet, yet angry. “Your life is going to be hell beyond the one you’ll be begging to get to!” he roared silently. It seems, like the many teenagers of today, a word goes in one ear and swiftly tries to escape via the other. “I don’t care what they say! I saw you and all your dastardly kin!” he glared the sharpest cutlery in existence as he did. He didn’t care, those glared blades would become real agonizing pain for the reptile’s leathery blue skin soon enough. The creature was verily returned to its ball, lest its most vile sight make him sick to his stomach.

Opening the door to the outdoors was a sudden change from the dimly air conditioned laboratory. His parents were outside waiting for him. His mother, much similarity could be seen in appearance from eyes to hair color, between her and him, but the facts were obvious that gender meant difference. In current state, her eyes were overflowing with worry. “NO!” she nearly shouted. “I will not lose my remaining child so soon!” she screamed, her eyes were overflowing with tears of tragic sadness. Her sadness was too much. “You’re not going!” she scolded.

That, of course is where pops chimed in. In every way the image of his father, the only differences between son and father were hair color, eye color, and the absence of bodily adult graces, like hair growth akin to an abominable snow yeti. This man was Richard Molson. “Gloria, honey. Please…” he sighed.

Women, they could be a hassle beyond the belief of the mysteries of the universe, but they meant well most of the time. She however, would hear no more, but was in no mood to fight over it. There had been enough bloodshed by far, and like any loving parent, did not want to outlive her son as well.

With a sigh, the fatherly one looked to his son again. “She’s just worried about you, my son.” he said with honesty, “We both are.”

“Oh, uh, I’ll be… fine.” he struggled. He wouldn’t dare say ‘Don’t worry pops! I’m just going to take my sister’s killer into the woods flay it alive and make nice (though blue) gator-skin goulashes, just for you. Happy Father’s Day!’ Such words would likely be wrong.

“I hope so.” he sighed to his son with concern, “So, what Pokemon did you get?” he asked, changing the subject, a certain tinge in his voice most hidden would suggest that the question was almost rhetorical.

“It’s a Totodile.” the son replied. The was no enthusiasm or distastefulness in his voice. It was as though he didn’t care. Truth be known, he hated the creature more than anything in existence.

“Ah, yes… as Wilbur told me it would be…” his glance became serious. “Yes, I know all about this.”

“Great…” his tone was thick with extreme sarcasm. “And what is your lecture, father?” he asked.

“There is none.” he was after all a reasonable man, “A lecture would just be wasting both of our time as it travels in and out of your ears the instant I say it. I will however warn you that if you do hurt this innocent creature, I will never consider you my son again.” his tone was serious, yet lacking of anger.

It almost scared Phillip when his father talked like that. His mouth hung open for a few seconds in utter horror and shock. It took him a few seconds to catch a second wind, and speak again. “But dad! It…” he was interrupted. His father, apparently, had not completed his soliloquy of grand importance.

“Killed my beloved daughter… yes, that is what you believe. I however doubt that to the extreme. I would bet my life and football watching on that,” that was big. Richard, like most adult men, was enamored with the sport of football. “And that is not a joke either.” he added with true honesty. “Do you know the pain of outliving your own children?” he asked, answering a second later. “It hurts a lot.”

The boy sighed, how could he dare say no to his own father. “Alright…” he trailed, his eyes shifting in every which direction to avoid eye contact.

“I know you’re likely ignoring every word I say. You’re young, you think you’re right. I know, I was your age once, thirty-three years ago.” he began. “I’m sure even punishment as extreme as that which I’ve stated cannot sway your mind. However, I know that time will each you best. I’m sure you’ll learn to see the truth, and your zealous hate will soon be quelled.”

The only response he received was a low grumble from his son as he kicked a rock along the sidewalk to occupy his complex mind.

“Regardless, if that’s not enough for you, then I‘m sure your sister wouldn’t approve of such action. Losing it all before you could even begin.” yes the riddling nature of complexity never ceases.

A vision rushed the lad’s mind. It was a sight of death. Before him was a cave filled with blue gators lying dead in a river of their own water and blood. At the center he was, his mouth foaming like a rabid beast as he craved for more vengeance. Truly this wasn’t villainous, was it? Yea right! A murderer deserves no right to life. After all, life was a privilege, and a blessing. But taking the life of another was plain wrong. All it was, was life for life. Wasn’t that a fair trade?

But such thought brought up he whole circular cycle of life, and one of man’s greatest conquests, the food chain. But that’s making use of what one kills. Though had there been nay a bloody, corporeal trace around, as several blue gators feasted upon his sister’s remains, he’d probably be just as furious. No, he’d daresay, be even more loathsome and hell-bent towards the inquisition of their species in the fullest. An utter conquest of blood and water, both not nearly as thick as the barrier to the reasons against such preposterous ideas.

His father rubbed softly at the tip of his brow, wiping away a few trickling beads of forming sweat. “Your mother, of course, knows nothing about this.” he said, slicing the silence to pieces with his sudden words. “I’m afraid she wouldn’t take it very well.” he added to brighten the mood. It was probably the most positive thought both men had vocalized all day. Well, that is of course until, “Now, why not just quit your worrying for at least an hour and make peace at the very least for one last meal with your family for what may be quite a while.” he licked his lips in anticipation. “I know how much you love when your mother makes meatballs, and I’d be more than inclined to agree.” he smiled.

Women, were after all, efficient in the field of cooking, and the horns of war could wait for one last hearty meal. “Dad, I’d love to.” he smiled. It was after all, going to be a rough beginning, with a very likely chance that the reaper would be dragging some creeps down to hell.

 

[▼■DoomWing■▼]

how do you close a thread?

 

[Dilasc]

Ok spammer. I feel the urge to hurt you, but I'm a better man than that. You can't close a thread, and damn you for eternity for even suggesting that MY thread should be closed.

What ever happened to the REAL reviewers?

 

[▼■DoomWing■▼]

no i mean like my own llousy threads
and i dont whats spamming im new pls dont be angry i didnt mean it

 

[Dragonfree]

Basically, this is Dilasc's fic thread and if you're just going to ask something that has nothing to do with the fic like how you close your own threads (which you can't, to answer your question), you should post in "SPPf help and newbie lounge", not in his fic thread.

This isn't just a chatroom where you can say whatever you want wherever you want. Things belong in different places.

 

[▼■DoomWing■▼]

im sry
i can make somethin fic too
infact im making a fic on pokemon right now
i could submit it

 

[Dilasc]

Don't you DARE post it in this thread. If you want to make your more than likely noobish fic, make your own post! Please, DONT reply again unless you're going to make a useful review. If not, then stay the heck out of my thread!

Anyway, any real readers out there? I could use some realistic posts to kill the spam. Anyone?

 

[Elemental Charizam]

After all, teeth grinded together, and twisting the very skin into the most angered state possible, while getting redder than a tomato, really isn’t very attractive.

Ignore the embedded clause when writing the end of you sentence; 'teeth' are plural, whereas 'isn't' is singular. It should be 'aren't' instead.

Wavy brown hair streaked down towards the top of his neck, and his green eyes deepened to a dark and angry shade, or so it’d seem worthy of belief.

Erm... I don't understand what you're trying to sat there =/

Right by a cave of many of these blue reptilians and seemingly bigger versions. His eyes caught their glances, and tears of anger began to well in the boy’s eyes. The sight was too much! He could not bear to watch them feast upon his three years younger sister’s remains, which is no doubt what they’d intend to do.

The exclamation mark isn't wrong, and so you don't need to correct it, but I felt it detracted from the drama.

“Attention Deficit Disorder.” he said, and Phil oh so suddenly nodded in understanding. He knew what that meant.
Stomach

That was random XP

I only pointed out one example of each kinda mistake, 'cause I'm lazy Anyways, typos aside, it looks lika good start. I can remember this actually, and though I thought it was getting a bit weird near the end, it'll be good to read the rest. Great imagery near the end, my favourite being the description of the dead Feraligatr. Good job!

 

[Dilasc]

Charizam: I appreciate the spotting of those errors. Really, I like when people find the mistakes I miss. It's like a few eyes are watching me from above... or at least, from afar.

Well now, revising this helps me prove how AWFUL I used to be. I don’t even know how or why people considered me to be... good. Descriptive I can see, but man, metaphoric abuse was abundant! Anyway, another chapter refurbished and ready to go live, hopefully I didn’t miss anything too severe.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 3: Day of Our Lies

A batch of mother’s delicious meatballs clears away sorrow and despair. It was the way of delicious food as their taste compels people to go back for more and more, untila queasy feeling enveloped said person in its stomach churning grip.

“Well Phillip.” is mother smiled weakly. Her notion of outliving her other son was none to pleasant. “I know it’s wrong to tell you not to go, but be careful, son.” She was practically begging him not to go on the inside.

“I’ll be fine mom…” the boy replied. His mind began to wander again. A feeling of guilt washed over him as though he had been hit by a typhoon. His eyes squinted as their gaze fixated down to the floor. The eyes were a gateway to the soul, and he didn’t want his mother to see the taint that haunted his. No, not her. She would overreact, and a woman... well, they could be a most dangerous enemy.

“Relax dear!” replied Richard. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” he stared at his son. “Nothing bad will happen, now will it?” he asked his son. Though fortunately his mother did not catch on, Phil was rather sure he knew the implications clearer than crystal, heck, they were clearer than a transparent glass. All that the boy did was nod.

As Phil glanced oh so quickly at his parents his eyes nearly watered. He would not want to break their hearts. It would be a pain that would not go away. “I guess this is… good bye.” he spoke.

“Take care of yourself.” his father spoke, his eyes lighting up as a ray of hopeful thinking struck his brain. “And if worst comes to worst, just remember to let your Molson do the talking.” he grinned.

And the young Molson could not help but chuckle at his father’s words. As useless as advice as it was meant to be, the function was clear: laugh a little, live long.

Yet, indeed it was a little, as he quickly strode forth from his house, and into the sunlight’s glaring heat. He quickly slammed the door behind him. Revenge was nigh, no matter the cost! It was no longer even about his sister’s departure to the afterlife! That had long since drowned itself out in a river of bloodlust.
“Adults…” he murmured grumpily to himself as he walked along the soft dirt road, kicking random rocks as he went, “They think I’m a some sort of insane, senseless jerk!” he mumbled. His kicking became more angry, and as such was backed with more and more force, forcing the dirt to fly up in front of him, creating a dusty cloud that oh so slightly blocked his vision with tan sand, though his pants and shoes were cakes with the tan colored sand.

His eyes wandered ahead. The lush pine trees and ferns surrounded him with a sight of nature in its purest, and most serene form. Amongst them, flowers and plants of red and more splashed a nice blend of forest calm. Surely this was a place of peace, and its serenity would be not disturbed.

The scent of the forest was much invigorating as the chirping of birds and the noises of other animals also rang out in the forest’s natural symphony of life. “How lively…” spoke the Molson boy aloud and to himself. “And yet, a mile back, in Hallsburg, I feel unchanged.” he shrugged.

Distanced from home at last! He was gone from Hallsburg now, but just because home was not so far behind, Phil wouldn’t quite feel safe to commence with his plan just yet. Perhaps, a mile or so deep into the safety of the woods would bring the perfect spot, set just right for revenge.

As he walked, he noticed something that perked his interest. The hissing of angry voices perked his eyes to follow, and a vision of two purple mice playing tug of war with… something. He did not know what.

Their teeth, sharp and long were deeply sunk into each an end of the long object as they seemed to growl between one another. “Rattata…” he noted quietly. They were a common kind, but in no way pitiful beings. Their sharp teeth and lithe forms meant that they could be a dangerous force. “Why couldn’t I have gotten one of those?” he nearly yelled to nobody at all.

It was at his voice that mice and man were now staring face to face. That was of course, until the timid, purple rodents jolted off at lightning speed to the sanctum of the shrubbery. Phil however, simply smirked as he looked to the discarded object they dropped when they fled… it was rope, simple every day rope, but there was a slight crimson to its tint… blood. It was dried of course, but at this point in time, Phil did not care.

“Weird…” he noted as he thought he could use it. ‘A perfect thing to strangle a killer. Ha!’ he grinned.

His trekking continued shortly after, and at not but a mile’s distance, a small splotch of thick foliage felt oh so right for blood and glory. So out with the iron sphere, the prison where a criminal monster was stored, had opened, never to be used again.

The gator on its freedom glanced cautiously around it. Trees, plants, vegetation, all seemed such a pleasant sight, if it weren’t for the scowl on the face of the angry human before him. As he grabbed forcefully on the creature’s neck, his eyes flared wild with searing hate! “I hate you…” he spoke, calm yet angry. His other arm, extended to slap the creature in the side of its jaw large. It felt empowering to say the least.
The Totodile, on the other hand, recoiled as the physical attack made its contact. It did no scream. It did not cry. It simply stayed quiet as its eyes downcast to the grassy road went soft and sad.

“Murderous scum!” Phil sneered! His voice was filling with volume as his grip began to tighten around the creature’s neck. Though the gator’s mouth went wide, desperately trying to fill its being with oxygen, it did not scream. On the inside though, it was desperately, and deeply afraid. Afraid for its life… afraid for its trainer’s life.

“You sicken me so much, demon!” his teeth gnashed. Had he tried, he could have bitten though a rock he was so angry. Hatred flooded his brain in a rush of agony. How lovely it would have been to ring this creature’s neck. Had it not been for the words of his father though, he’d have long since been finished.

Instead, he opted for a mere violent toss to the ground with whatever strength his not so toned form could muster. Sufficient to be said that when you’re hardly two feet tall, its not difficult to make a scratch, as small as it may be. It was the heart and soul that hurt the blue creature the most on its landing.

Phillip’s eyes did their damned best to staunch the likely to occur flow of tears.

“Well?” Phil began as if expecting something to happen. “Go on. Get out of here!’ his voice roared with anger mixed with the agonizing overpowering of peace! Go home to your murderer’s cave,” he sneered at the beast. “Get out of here before I change my mind!”

The blue one looked upwards towards its trainer. It looked at him with concern, with fear, with pity, with hope, but it did not see the human as an enemy. No, he was mislead, and found the wrong killer. The Totodile, could have spoken the human tongue would have told him everything, especially about the real killer. Alas, the best it would do is just chant its name in a raspy voice and piss him off.

On the other hand, it DID value and cherish its life, apparently amongst the wilds as it had been oh so recently. It knew the ay home. It was not far to the river cavern, and the forest was simple to navigate. Its pace however, was slow, its clawed reptilian feet dragging themselves forcefully through the soil, sullen look upon its face as though in a last ditch attempt, pity would bring softening heart.

But the Molson avenger was not bought by the act in the least. “I cannot stand the sight of you!” he yelled in harsher tones every time. A pebble made its way into his hand “Move faster!” he yelled again as he tossed the tiny mineral, striking the gator in the back of the neck, causing the creature to go into panic as is retreat became speedy, kicking up grass as its movement kicked up dirt and grass, leaving Phil, at long last, alone.

Finally, he had been rid of the creature. But to what avail? He knew not. ‘It’ll kill again. But it better not kill anything I know, or there will be no more warnings.’ Phil mumbled quietly as he took some time to think about whatever he could. Ideas, memories, and recent events all raced through his mind, vying to consume his thoughts in more peaceful ideas.

The first to succeed were memories of hi sister. Sara Tanya Molson… she would be missed. The better of two siblings, she was smart, social, funny, forgiving, and always supportive. She had a curiosity that was never matched, and he knew she would go to help Mr. Brenetmos around the place, just because she was into animals. It was likely how Brenetmos knew correctly when he said she was a bit of a klutz, but in no way was she hazardous. Yes, she had flaws, one of which was a horrible secret that Phil never mentioned that he knew.

Though he never remembered exactly how he figured it out, he did well know that Sara was a bit of a, believe it or not, lesbian. ‘I still don’t know HOW I know that. She’s only 12!’ he chuckled. The laughter for a second lightened the hefty feeling weighing his heart down like a scale without balance. Fact is though, when you’ve lost someone, its almost impossible to start out by dwelling on the bad.

It was she who knew about Pokemon, not him. Phil knew little beyond the simple facts. It was she who was meant to be trainer anyway. He sighed, ‘Even if all went well, I’d still have failed her almost indubitably.’

He needed to sit. His mind then wandered to this morning. How he was there, not Sara, waiting upon hopefully to take her dream far. There was also Gina. Yes, Gina Meshing, friend of his sister. How on earth had he rarely seen her before? Yes, he would hope to lay eyes on her again. He smiled, if not for a second, for following this thought was Brenetmos.

Yes, well respected, intelligent Mr. Brenetmos… was a scheming, conniving devil. He set Phil up, he did. His insane plans were beyond foolish, and doomed to fail. By doomed to fail, that of course meant doom the victim to failure. It made him wonder, ‘What if I got a good Pokemon?’ he thought. ‘Like a Rattata.’ Why not a Rattata? Though said to be small and frail, they were quite perseverant little beasts with their adaptability to almost any environment. The fangs they sported didn’t look weak by any stretch of the imagination.

In short time, something else caught his eye, for flying in a blur of feathery grace was a brown, though small bird. As it soared carefully between the trees, it cawed out a word, presumably its name. “Or maybe a Pidgey…” Phil resumed his thoughts. He knew of these birds. They were everywhere, sort of like how Rattata were all over the place as well, but Pidgey were less cowardly, with their tendency to perch on telephone poles, fences and wire cables. At any rate, it’d have been better than the, accursed gator that he was given!

While Phil mulled around deep in his thoughts, Gina was trudging another neck of the woods (literally), her mind hardly weighted down by much. She was, after all, free. Free of the pain at home, and the misery of quarreling parents. Only the biting insects posed any form of true irritation.

As she smiled to the graceful songs of birds and beasts, the light in her heart did nothing but conceal an awkward onlooker as he watched from behind the shrubs. “Ooh, another girl!” the voice’s owner smiled as he watched her approach the river. The voice’s owner laughed a most freaky laugh. It was as though the possessor of the voice was on some form of illegal substance abuse. “Whee!” Somehow, there was an extremely obvious lack of sanity in whoever this person was.

It was then, that the person made its presence known. It was, without a doubt, male. Towering over the girl, his eyes seemed to wander everywhere, his smile seemed to stay locked in a most frightening smile that was definitely not quite a smirk. But his voice, it sounded as though it lacked any form of restraint in its words, and his actions seemed just as unstably random. “Hello girly!” he spoke, startling Gina from her peace. His face was indeed adultly, though distorted and contorted with pierced eyes, ears… almost everything had an earring in it. His freakishly unstable smile widened as he roared into his psychotic laughter yet again.

Phil smiled. It seemed he may get a chance to continue even without the Totodile, for an blue creature with a grassy green hairdo had drawn in close. That is of course, until a scream of terror filled the air, followed shortly after by the panicked flight of birds flapping madly into the wild blue skies as the shout’s echo flooded through the trees. The blue creature too, had made itself scarce as well. “Oh no!” Phil’s mind began poisoning itself yet again with vengeful thought. “Those murderous gators are going to kill another person!” Another scream rang his ears yet again, though this one seemed to be cut off forcefully. All he could do was follow the sound.

“Hey!” yelled as his scouring proved successful. It was by chance after all that this seemed damned close to where those Totodile lived like killers.

But the watery beasts were not the source of this problem. Instead, he saw what appeared to be a man pierced all about his body. His hair wild and spiked. “Lookie!” the wackjob spoke! “A witness to be destroyed!” he spoke, proving that optimistic feelings could be anywhere! “Hahahaha!” and then went his laugh. Phil had to cringe as he heard it. It sounded so horribly freaky, and oh so wrong.

To the left on the floor side was, he couldn’t believe it, “Gina!” yes, it was Ms. Meshing. She was tied at the legs, and her hands were behind her back. Her mouth seemed to be gagged. “You!” he yelled to the man. “What the hell are you doing?” His mind was overflowing with worry and fear. He had seen enough deaths of people he knew. Phil would not let this freaky man kill her if

“Me?” the wacko asked, feigning innocence that failed in an instance. “I’m just Jimmy!” he shrugged. Again, he proceeded to laugh in his more chillingly feminine, insane voice. “I’m only having fun, playing shoot and stab with my latest catch.” he spoke with pride, foolishly. It was then that Phil noticed the gun in his hand.

But the Molson looked on in worry. “You’re insane!” he spat with immense hatred. He then remembered the rope he held. Could it have been possible?

Jimmy the nutcase let his eyes widen. “Ah, so my last fun catch was related to you. Ooh! How ” he smiled in a the freakiest admiration ever seen. “I guess this means more fun for me.” and he unleashed yet again that scary female laugh. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need time to make the girl scream loudly! Whee!”

“Shut up! You won’t dare!” Phil roared with tears as he lunged angrily. This was his sister’s murderer all along. Oh how he should have listened to his father, to Mr. Brenetmos. They did not want to betray him, they wanted to help him, and he despised their ideas. The crazy man never saw it coming as Phil’s balled and angrily tight clenched fist slammed into the man’s jaw.

“Ooh! You’re feisty!” he laughed. He didn’t even seem to flinch to the pain, but considering how little he knew about physical fighting, it might have been unsurprising. “This’ll be fun.” he chided in his giddy, insane tone as he pointed the gun to Phil’s head.

‘This is the end!’ Phil thought. A tear escaped his eye. He would never be able to appeal for this sin. He would die guilty.

Just down the river, a familiar blue gator was encroaching upon a cave. It was, after all, the order of his master. ‘Go home.’ those words rang in its mind. It would be home, and try to forget and forgive al that had happened. That was, of course, until the psycho laughter it knew too well had sounded, followed by what seemed to be a familiar voice. Perhaps, things could be straightened out after all. Time was not to be wasted.

Phil could not bear to watch the dishonorable, and no doubt painful feeling of his own death. ‘I have failed. I failed not only myself, but my sister, and the Totodile. I’m gonna to die!’ As such, he shut his eyes as he was held tight in the psycho’s grasp. It was then that he felt a force tingle upon his skin. The sound of gun shot however, was unheard. ‘Oblivion awaits!’

 

[Dilasc]

And yet more is done up again. If the peanut gallery finds any errors, then by all means, don’t hesitate to let me know so I can fix them. After all, there's bound to be corrections I have yet to make.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 4: The Trial of Tears (and Blood)

‘Is this what it feels like to bleed?’ Questioned Phillip from within his mind as he felt a strong force against him. ‘Is this what its like to die?’ his mind questioned again, ‘Should I dare open my eyes to see the doomed afterlife I’ve succumbed to? It feels so cold, I must be fading...’ he questioned consistently. Fear swept his mind, and like glue, fear kept his eyes shut until he had a damn good reason to open them.

“Ooh! My gun go flyyyy…” went a familiar psychotic voice. “Flying! Whee!” that laughter which followed, and the insane, effeminate tone. It could only mean one thing.

‘This must be hell.’ Phil’s mind assumed. ‘I’m hardly surprised.’ he sighed, and, after much hesitation, opened his eyes to see what had happened.

From the blur of nothingness, the visions of the blue skies above and forest shrubs stood before him. “Welcome back sleepy head!” came an agitating voice, followed by an insidiously agonizing laughter. It was Jimmy! The whack job still held the boy firmly in his grasp, but as he looked to his hands, no gun could be found. But a look to the right and ten feet away, in the soft dirt nearby gave him his answer. Someone had disarmed this man, and did a damned good job of it too.

An answer to that stood before him in a rage of blue, armed with claws and teeth. “Totodile!” he called to the blue creature. “I know you must hate me, but I realize my mistake! If you can accept my apology…” Phillip’s eyes were wild with fear as his mind knew what must be done, “Then please, untie Gina and get her out of here!” he was practically begging the creature to save her.

“Ooh! Croc! Croikey! I don’t bring you enough dead bodies, you‘re spoiled little crocies!” rambled Jimmy in purely ecstatic insanity. “I see dead people!” he continued, as he rambled on about god knows how many famous, hip and hot TV and movie clichés and one liners. “Fly me to the moon in a batter of cake.”

Phil’s muscles tightened. This man was not going to get away with his crime. No, he was going to suffer. In spite of the fact that his psychotic smile never died, Jimmy would be hurting and badly at that. And that of course, is where Phil made his first attempted struggle, and a lash from his flailing feet went right to the man’s shins. “You are going to regret so much!” he yelled as the man’s grip loosened.

“Ooh, my foot feels funny.” laughed the crazy one as his voice brought creepy feeling to all nearby. “Croccy wants to play! Whee!” he grinned as he noticed the blue gator rescuing damsel in distress.

The creature’s claws wildly swiped at the rope on her hands, attempting to cut it off in as many fell swipes as its little claws could. It was to no avail. All it did was wear down its nails as they reddened in soreness as all they did were an extremely slow deterioration, not too mention a few inaccurate swipes causing bruises to the poor lass in question. It seemed that the girl would have to wait, or else risk shredding her up, and facing the guilt of murder.

As it looked towards its struggling trainer, the Totodile had a better idea. Though not exactly safe as it was, fighting would be the only answer. The human boy pleaded for apology, and that had meant he knew the truth. Indeed, it helped immensely. It was not about to let all that be smashed and eviscerated by a simple madman. With a deep breath, it went to work pitting its animal prowess against the madness of a man.

“Words cannot describe my anger!” Phil sneered as his foot took another swipe at the man’s bruising shins. His grip on the boy had loosened at last, leaving Phil’s hands free to strangle, punch, or gouge out as freely as he’d wish. “You’re not fit to be alive, scum!” he roared, taking a punch at the man’s stomach. His fist only connected with an open palm. After all, an important rule of keeping your hide alive, never hit a crazy person. The Molson boy had nearly sealed his fate.

“You’re a fun dancer. Let’s boogie!” he grinned as his fist flew towards the boys jaw with an immense force. There was no way he could block it. His hand was parried and gripped tightly. His other hand was at the wrong side of his face. How on earth this psycho managed to grab a hook from the right with his left hand was beyond Phil, but it hardly mattered now.

It was then that a blue meteor of reptilian hide smashed head first into the man’s gullet. Its force was strong, and got quite the reaction the laws of physics would deem fit, sending the psycho sprawling to the ground on his side. Yet, as he fell, he laughed yet again. His feminine laugh did not dither or choke on a syllable as its accursed sound rang through all ears present. His smile and enthusiasm seemed as great as ever. “Whee!”

Phil took no time to wait. Mustering whatever force he could, he darted upon the smiling, fallen body and sent his fists as many times as possible to the mans face and nose. Every ounce of blood he shed would be a victory in itself in his mind. Revenge was long overdue, and this time, his attacks were not repelled by psychotic arms. He was not about to wait. After all, a fair fight was out of the question when he’d already been pointed at with a gun.

Punch after punch as both of Phil’s fists swung wildly, empowered by an enormous backing of adrenaline. But no matter how badly his face would bruise, especially where the openings around the piercings on his face began to loose blood, he could not hurt this man’s smile. It just lingered as he laughed every now and then, even after blood was clearly running down the side of his face. “This is it monster!” Phil panted heavy in the midst of rage and fury. “Send my regards to whoever takes care of evil scum like you in the afterlife!” his voice was rasped, filled with an overflowing berserk harshness. “Tell him to save me a nice spot someday!” he roared. The look on his face was weird. Instead of being angry and gritted teeth, Phil was grinning wildly. He almost sounded proud as he rang out the short soliloquy towards the cur of a criminal.

Gina, from her helpless and vulnerable state was moving and struggling against the flow of the bonds. It wasn’t easy, but with thanks to a stroke of luck, stacked upon the sloppily done job at mouth gag, Gina was able to a few words in. “Wait!” she shouted.

Her voice, it was a sense of refreshment that washed over Phil’s entire being and soul. With a quick jab to the murderer’s stomach, he scowled. “Don’t even try to move!” he warned darkly, only to be met by more insidious laughter. Phil shuddered as he heard that jerk’s laughter for the umpteenth time in the last hour or so. A rush of sadness swept through his being. There was Gina, tied up and a tad bruised, asking him to hold back for just but a moment. He would have to be as crazy as the man he was throttling to death to not listen. “What is it?” his voice was that of concern as he ran towards her, pulling the gag from her mouth at long last after what felt like an eternity in one mere hour.

Her eyes were pleading. “Don’t kill him.” she seemed to beg. Her eyes were watering up, “I know he’s a cruel person, but please.” she couldn’t hold it back. Tears stream down her cheeks. “Just no killing today.” she pleaded, wishing she could wipe the tears from her eyes.

Phil himself, could see the true sadness in her eyes. A fear swept over him. ‘Dear god!’ he figured. ‘I’m nothing but an abomination!’ and at long last, a softness touched his heart. “I must admire you.” he admitted. “But I’m not letting him off the hook, woman! Do you realize what he did?” he sighed. He simply couldn’t leave a cruel monstrosity like this to roam the world wild and hazardous to all.

Without needing to be told, Phil fulfilled in ten seconds what a Pokemon had strained with risky and effort to do… he untied the ropes. Then again, when you have the advantage of human fingers, opposable thumb especially, its really not as stellar as it sounds.

“Aw, how cute!” spoke Jimmy, going wide eyed and sickly. “Cooties! Cooties! Cooties!” he raved wildly, rather beaten and dazed on the soft soil. The ground soaked up the blood from his face as he lips still maintained its insane smile. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere at all.

Gina’s eyes began to dry just a bit, as she rubbed a the salty tear trickling down her cheek. “Thank you, Phil.” she smiled as strongly as she could. It was a failing smile however hard she try, and it wavered, waiting to go back to the crying it longed for, letting troubles flush and drown away in tears.

But Phil wasn’t feeling very thanks worthy. No, he hadn’t quite been successful yet. “Hold still!” he yelled to the crazy man as he hauled back to him holding many pieces of untied rope.

It wasn’t easy to restrain him. His psychotic giggles grating deep into the skull, his sudden outbursts and giddy shaking and struggling did not make things easy by any stretch. In the end however, Phil managed to tie the man’s arms firmly behind his back, and his legs tied together at just above the tongue of his shoes. Tying his mouth shut was much too risky. Every time his hands grew near, a pair of crazy teeth would try and snap at him like a wild tortoise.

Fearing the worst, Phil knew he might not let go had he grasped anything in his teeth. Had he given him a stone, it’d likely be crushed to dust before his teeth would realize that they needed to feel the pain of such a force.

“You’re lucky that the girl over there has a goodly heart! Otherwise yours would be bleeding on a platter after I’d rip it from your black blooded existence.” taunted the Molson avenger. The empowering feeling behind this victory was unbelievable. He wanted to do it again, and again. And whenever Gina would have a change of heart and mind, the villains black heart would be dubbed an heirloom even if he had to dub it as such himself.

The man was now fully restrained. Such was a costly victory. The blue reptilian knew its master had won the day. It approached him cautiously, standing there, waiting as though something were to happen. Its head was downcast, water filling slightly in its eyes. Phil of course, stared back. “Well, are we going to be friends yet,” his voice cracked as the contagious feeling of sadness crept to him as well. “Or do we both have to be in a river of tears first.” As that was said, he too would lose control of his tear ducts as boy and beast embraced. The beast, tears of joy and acceptance, while the boy filled with guilt, shame, regret, and fear. “I’m so sorry.” he repeated. It felt so needed. He needed to let the sorrow he so truly felt be known.

Gina stared on as the brown haired boy as he was at long last at peace with a wrongly accused killer. She felt so weak, so wronged. ‘I agreed to Brenetmos’ plan to set those two up.’ she sighed. She had no idea that the magnitude of the setup would be so dire. A hatred so grand, and of course, Jimmy was nowhere in the plans. That was just unfortunate.

With a sigh, and a blink of her reddened tear dried eyes, she assessed the boy again. He saved her life from certain doom. No doubt, somewhere within him, ‘He felt… he was saving his sister deep inside.’ she concluded. It was unquestionably obvious! Suffice to say that there’s no complaint needed when you’re still alive thankfully. Still, why him. Him to see her weak and vulnerable. It made her want to cry, the embarrassment and shame she felt.

It was then, that a the sound of a loud choking sound was emitted from crazy man’s dangerous mouth, followed afterwards by a repulsive wad of saliva and phlegm. “Pu’me on the spit! Pu’me on the spit! Whee!” his exuberance was enough to make her vomit, and his ropes were not holding a firm enough grip.

‘He could use my help.’ Gina figured, as she fingered the Pokeball in her belt. It would be, as of this morning, the first time she had opened the red and white contraption. She fingered the sphere at the half way point between color changes. ‘Already Phil’s gotten to know his Pokemon a bit, even if by dangerous means, and I’ve yet to even know anything about my Bulbasaur.’ she considered the facts. Perhaps, a tinge of jealousy was pulsing through her veins. “Well…” she figured, cautiously tossing the Pokeball to the ground as it spiraled rapidly, causing a sight of pink to appear till it collided with the soft sandy grass.

In a flash of energetic red light, a stout, green quadruped emerged. Its face distorted immediately into a look of confusion. Looking a tad timid, it stepped towards the trainer carefully. Its voice perked as it chanted its name. Its voice, groggy in a high pitch sort of way as it looked up to the girl that stood before it. There was no doubt in its verdant mind that this person was its master.

“Hello there.” the human girl spoke to it. Her voice, mustering as much friendliness as possible. First impressions go long ways after all, and unlike Phil, she didn’t think she’d have the courage to go on if tension between her and her very first Pokemon were to arise. Being brave, she decided to extend her hand to the verdant dinosaur before that stood before her, patting the seedy growth upon its back carefully and softly. Its texture was surprisingly smooth, and felt a bit delicate, like a soft flower waiting to bloom.

It smiled to the delicate fingers that glided like a gentle wind, only softer. It chanted its name again, obviously in delight. It seemed that there’d be no discontent between these two.

“Bulbasaur.” went the green haired girl as she addressed the pokemon. “I’m going to need your help.” she said. The creature before her nodded once as the human girl pointed to Phil, who was struggling slightly at keeping the crazy man down, his Totodile doing his best to help as well. “I believe you have a move called Vine Whip.” she recalled, hoping her assumption was indeed correct. With the green one’s nod of confirmation, she gave her first ever command to her very first Pokemon. “Ok, see that man tied up over there?” she asked the beast, patting it atop the orifice atop its backside. “See if you can wrap some vines around that man’s wrists and ankles.”

From the side of its back two seemingly think and flimsy green lines seemed to sprout. These were vines, clear and smooth, only at the tips of the vines were widened bulbs that seemed to look sturdy, as though they served as the true muscle behind the might of this vinery “Hold him still just a bit longer.” Gina’s voice rang loud as she caught Phil’s attention.

As he looked up, he saw what appeared to be flying green rope wafting and wavering gently to the calm winds. This ’rope’ had the simplistic scent of fresh cut grass. As swiftly as the ropes of green whipped towards the fallen psycho, its ropey nature began to go to work, as it quickly entangled the man with the sturdiness and endurance beyond that of the real thing.

All in all, they had finally restrained the social misfit in tight binding which he would not likely be escaping. Though still remaining was the problem of the madman’s wayward, spontaneous voice box, as its randomness would put a real Tourette’s sufferer to shame.

“Now all we need to do is figure out how to haul his sorry excuse of existence out of her.” sighed Phillip. Indeed, even with a combined effort, both humans would have great trouble carrying their caught criminal anywhere. It was then that a loud, churning roar would sound. It was his stomach. “Oh god I’m, starved.” he noted.

“We can stop for a bit if you’re that hungry.” noted Gina, as the thought of eating made her stomach churn in neediness. She saddened though. “But, we have nothing to eat. How are we going to get food?”

It was then that Phillip had an idea. Were he a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared and shone brightly for millenniums to come. “Hey Totodile!” he called to the blue croc beside him. “How do you see your food around these parts?” The crocodile’s face contorted into a sly smile, Phil would have sworn it was a grin as it motioned with a clawed finger for the human to follow, which he did in a heartbeat, kicking up the dusty sand as his quick pace lead them towards the river and caves.

“Well Bulbasaur…” went Gina as she was left all alone at this point. Just a girl and her Pokemon. “You Have any ideas of good food to find around here?” she asked. She was curious. After all, it’d be a good way to learn to get to know her new Pokemon a bit better.

With half a name chant, the verdant dino smiled, pointing one of its front legs towards a group of bushes off a tad away from the river. Obviously, it was telling the human girl to follow its lead.

As bushes were tossed aside, the plant creature extended from its body another set of vines. What await was a great big bush and vine, and small red, spherical berries, fresh, glistening the reflection of the setting sun. Food it was, and good to eat, so it seemed.

With a quick and careful motion, the dinosaur gently wrapped one of its ropey vines around one of the berries. From there, it put the berry into its mouth to seemingly swallow in one gulp. When it finished however, it promptly seemed to spit out what seemed to be an inedible little seed. As it connected with the dirt, the creature’s claw seemed to reach the dirt and cover the promise of a flower to be. Satisfied at this, it smiled as it looked at its trainer.

Meanwhile, back at the river cave, Phil and his aquatic reptilian friend are now. “So… I guess you’re going to fish then.” he shrugged. Truth be told, there were no gripes from him about fish fillet.

With a nod, the Totodile looked toward the nearby cave. Its face distorted to confusion of what to do. Should it stop by at home for one last visit ever, or just move on now? It eyed the cave as it stood just a bit in the distance, noticing a few others of its kin, and bigger, more powerful looking gators as well.

“Something wrong there?” the human asked. Indeed, so it seemed, for the gator nodded its head swiftly as its clawed fingers pointed to the caves of its home. The Pokemon’s eyes looked pleading as it stared at its master.

“Ah, I see. Your family I take it.” he understood. ‘I never got to say goodbye to my sister.’ the thought yielded just but one tear, which trickled swiftly down his face. “You may say your goodbyes.”

The gator however, was not about to leave it at just that. It tugged gently upon the human’s arm, doing its best to avoid clawing it to a bloody state. The message seemed very clear.

Phil’s eyes went wide like watermelons, “Me, meet your family?” He was aghast! Sure, he had forgiven one Totodile, but his presence may make scales and red spines stand on edge, as well as claws and teeth bear themselves for defense, and rend his skin painfully.

The crocodile however, didn’t seem to care. It was do or die, and the croc wasn’t gonna let it be die. No more would things equate to die. Looking in the direction of the small cavern, it roared its species name loudly into the air, attracting the presence of all kinds of blue gators. As enough crocodiles to send an ivory hunter into seizures made themselves known, the one whom had the human seemed to speak to its reptilian brethren.

Phil, knew not what was said, nor did he care. Thoughts of vengeance however had long since become that of obscurity. Now, he only hoped it was not too late to repent. “Uh, hello.” he spoke nervously. Blue gators eyed him oddly, but in their eyes, the Molson boy could tell that they were not vicious.

As for Phil’s gator, it seemed to finish speaking, ending with a nod of its head. At that, the biggest crocodile of all time seemed to be present. Compared to a regular Totodile, this thing looked dangerous, with sharp claws, big teeth, and protective fat. But Phil’s Pokemon showed no fear as it hugged at the leg of this behemoth, who in turn, gently patted the smaller creature upon the head.

After a few more times hearing raspy voices bellow the name Totodile, and bigger voices roaring names he didn’t quite catch amongst the chatter, it was time to go. Clawed hands of all sizes leapt into the air, waving back in forth, as they saw one from their family for what may have been the last time.

“Well there.” Phil sighed in relief as he and his Pokemon made slow paced tracks back towards the river. “How about that food finding?” A grin plastered itself upon he gator as it ran right to the edge of the water. Its color was brown, thanks in part mostly to the rocks and mud that littered its floor, but was quite easily possible to see deep into it. Creatures of all kinds swam its calm waters as they darted back and forth.

The Totodile let its tongue wander the length of its long, pronounced snout as it looked into the calm, mostly clear water. It was obvious that thus wasn’t going to be a herbivorous search.

Phil however, was rather helpless to do anything. “I guess its up to you.” smiled Phil as the Totodile lunged into the water. The hunt had begun!

Blue claws lashed out at the first helpless fish it could find. The creature victimized looked red, but was blurred by the waves created to the tango of the great hunt. In a big splash, the crocodile leapt out of the water, and with it came a helpless looking red fish with what appeared to be a crown of yellow fins decorating its head, even redder than before with blood leaking from newly formed scratch marks. It yelped in pain what apparently must have been its name.

Quickly before the fish hit the water, the Totodile’s teeth lunged at the creature’s neck, biting sharply like a demonic vampire who had reawakened after thousands of years. Its force was deep into its neck. Blood began to flow like a faucet on full blast. The fish had a sealed fate.

At a splash, croc and prey hit the water once more with prey held firmly in razor sharp jaws. As it flailed away the last of its existence, its gills desperately eking any hope of survival. To no avail as it was violently tossed to the dry land. It’s last muttered word, gurgled in a mesh of blood would be ‘Karp’.

“Hmm, I guess this will do just fine.” the human shrugged. It was small, but beggars cant be choosers.

The gator however was not finished, so it seemed, for the gator seemed to leap out of the water yet again, another fishy beast of food. It’s body, glistening orange. The shine of the reflective sun made a golden tint off its shiny scales. Its white underbelly was covered in a crimson covering. It however, seemed to be able to fight back for its life. Adorning its head looked to be a razor sharp horn, its solid, sharp look put a fear into the Molson boy as he watched the circle of life in action. Carefully as possible, the gator would not go ‘head to head’ with the goldfish, opting for indeed its own safety as it swiftly angled itself to the right.

Avoiding the onslaught of this spiked object, it only managed to nick the gator’s small yet sturdy arm. In a splash, both aquatic warriors were back beneath the waves, the water murky with reddish brown as the goldfish flopped to the surface in desperation. Its well pronounced fins were seemed severed in spots, and it too, like the fish before it, was destined to be dinner. With what seemed to be a powerful swipe, the creature was sent to the dirt ground, flopping desperately to return to its watery salvation. It would not make it.

It was weak, defenseless and dying. Without the mobility of the water, it had no hope of fighting back the gator onslaught as, like the fish before it, it received a mighty throat jab from vicious incisors. Its last breath was there after by about four seconds.

The human stared in awe. The blood that was spilled should have been a horrible sight. He had, after all, wiped all thinking of that kind from his mind. At least, he hoped he had. Fact was though that he liked it, and not just because this spilled blood would fill his starving innards. There was something else, something deeper. He knew not himself either. ‘I’m just hungry, that’s all.’

He looked back to the crocodile. It looked ready to find more feast. “Hey! We have enough, I think.” the human called out, disrupting instinct’s controlling ways. In a leap, the small croc was standing on the dry land as it shook its wet body wildly like a post-bathed canine, though scales don’t really fluff about like fur does. With a sigh of discontent, the gator complied to the commands of its trainer.

“We have far more than enough.” the human sighed. He didn’t really feel all that hungry the more he thought about it. The human grabbed the fish by their tail fins both in one hand, and carried them upon his back.

Meeting back where a crazy nut job was swaying back and forth hap hazardously while still laughing in that shrill, disgusting voice. “Whee! Yay to the fishes in the deep blue sea!” e began to ramble yet again. The blood on his face had long since dried, leaving scratch marks, bruises, and scars that may last forever. Those scars would never be enough to compensate for the great scar he left on the people he’s hurt.

Gina had long since returned. With her, she held a splendor of deeply red… berries. Their juiciness seemed to be unable to contain themselves as it flowed its extraneous nature to even the slightest motion.

Gina herself eyed carefully what Phil held in his hand. Fish! Blood covered, deceased fish. Their still present, yet rapidly drying blood sent a chill down her spine. She would be sticking to fruit tonight, thank you very much!

“So,” the Molson boy glanced to the master hunter. “You just eat these raw?” he asked. They had no way to start a fire, and Phil wasn’t about to start playing with rocks and sticks. The flames could spread, and fires could break out. As rare as that was, he would not risk it.

The croc nodded, taking the smaller, red fish from the human’s hand, biting into it with a longing hunger. The human eyed him wearily. With a shrug, he figured he might as well. Worst comes to worst, all he does is hurt himself. Looking at the horned fish in his hand, he figured that sharp horns aren’t very good to eat. Flipping the fish upside down, he took a cautious bite. He’d finish the entire thing, leaving a pile of bones, and a detached horn to decay into obscurity.

After what had to be his oddest, but not worst, meal ever, Phil was stuffed. Fish fat may be healthy, but fat is fat, and well, it makes you fat! His eyes roamed carefully to the psychopathic man, who still sang annoying words and laughed maliciously. “Whee!” his quirky voice rang loud. “Save some for later, hungry boy!”

Phil eyed the fish horn he had discarded on the ground. It’s sharp edge could gut that man cleanly and satisfyingly. ‘No, no more killing!’ he remembered. “Well, we should move out. I say we bring this man to the nearest town and call someone to get this schmuck out of my sight! But how?” he wondered yet again.

It was Gina’s Pokemon to the rescue this time. As more vines seemed to magically spring forth and grow from its sides, they wrapped carefully around the already made roping. Then these vines pulled the man into the air as the Bulbasaur bellowed with might. The crazy man was lifted into the air by his tied arms and legs to sway slightly like a pendulum in a clock. It did not deter his craziness in the least.

“I want to fly like a Wingul,” the nutcase sung merrily as he was heaved into the air. “I wanna fly like a Wingul, my spirit free. Fly like a Wingul cuz they’ll never capture me! I want to FLYYYYY, Whee!”

“Well...” Gina shrugged, ignoring the man‘s odd words. “We may not get to Feltinrel by tonight.” she figured. “I guess we just cover as much ground as possible.” Fact was, after a day like today, sleep would be a welcome escape for the few hours it lasts.

With a sigh, Phil complied as the green dinosaur seemed to easily hold the man by its forestry formed ropes. The path winded It was going to be a LOOOOONG evening. Let alone, getting the sun to set would seem to be a chore. It would, however, be worth the call of justice.

 

[Dilasc]

Soon... soon I will be at the point where I will need to start actually writing new chapters instead of sprucing up old, and cruddy ones. Anyway, here's another one returning to glory.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 5: The Farce Will Be With You, Always

An hour, two hours, not longer than two though, it felt like five centuries awaiting the setting of the mighty solar orb in the sky, but time stands still for nobody.

“How much further?” wondered Phillip as he looked but a tad battered. It was understandable though. H did have one hell of a day after all, and its almost surprising that he hadn’t collapsed sooner. His feel began to drag, dirt, soil, and sand, while grass began to stain the bottom of his shoes.

Gina blinked, thinking for about two seconds. “Hmm…” her mind wandered towards second thoughts. Surely a town was near enough to walk to, and nigh unto night or morning, they could sleep till they never needed rest again. But as yawn after yawn escaped from the very soul itself, sleep was not going to be a patient little pest. “I guess we could rest out here…” she was hesitant. Suffice to say, she had her reasons, and indeed they were good ones.

Truly there was some sorts of evils and dangers lurking in the darkness and shadows of the night. Some evil wrapping its malicious tendrils of vile blasphemy waiting for the oh so right chance to sew discord throughout the land… “And then I’ll make spaghetti curled into a big pile of soap and throw it at the neighbors. WHEE!” Then again, its likely there was no off button on that man, meaning more for them. He surely wasn’t going anywhere, and what better way to scare people away than with your very own restrained, pet psychopath. That poor little dinosaur must have been straining to hold a wack job like Jimmy. It’d hopefully not be long before it would all be over.

Regardless, that would not keep bug bites, cold evening air, and other fearless hazards away from them. “Great!” rang the Molson’s voice, hiding the actual lack of enthusiasm. Truth be told, he did not think, rather, he knew that sleep would not come easy tonight.

The boy’s eyes wandered skyward, gazing at the blackening sky with deep thoughts and intensity. Specs and dots of light shrouded by sky blue dusts broke free of their grasp, visual to all who’d wish to gaze upon the spectrum of sheer and splendorous heaven lights!

It was fortune that a clear opening of soft grass and decent space. It’d be sufficient and serve purpose of resting for the night. It was probably not even ten o’clock yet, but they didn’t care, let the escape of sleep make things better, even with creepy laughter ringing through the ears.

They had no sleeping bags. It’d be sleeping in nature’s mattresses of choice, the soft, yet indubitably to be wet grass, the sand, somewhat rougher a surface, and worse yet it’d be not so comfy as you turn into a sand dune. Not cleaning up afterwards would be dumb and boorish. Then again, there was the soil: Soft and black, this dirt would stain clothes darkly, but it’d be cozy, if not for the fact that plants were busy using it for a growth spot. Indeed, kids on a day like this would nay dare invoke nature’s wrath. There was also those rocks over there where Phil had decided to sit, gazing into the sky. Rough, hardened, and uncomfortable, those were the only possible drawbacks to sitting on the uneven leveled surface of stones. Other than that, nothing would side effect them in waking hour, except of course for a sore back. All in all, grass seemed to have a landslide vote.

Speaking of rocks, or rather Phil sitting on the stone surface, his eyes gazed skyward in a fixation. He felt so alone, so vulnerable… so useless. He hardly heard Gina as she approached the boy, placing a hand gently on his shoulder in concern. “Phillip…” she began, sadly at a shortage of ideas of idle chatter to make time flow faster, and hopefully take his mind off of revenge. This rage was eating him up, and Gina wasn't thrilled about it in the least.

He jumped startled for a second as he felt her hand touch his shoulder. Calm, warm, and not rough at all, his mind was too deep in its thoughts to be pulled out by a mere human hand. Instead, these thoughts would probably pull that hand, and person who’s hand it belonged to, right into it. “Look up into the sky.” he said. He hardly waited for her. He had bottled emotions of fear and torment, and sooner or later, that bottle will realize it is only made of glass, the delicate, crafted works of sand that they are. Sooner or later, it would shatter, letting free the contents they held, or simply causing all to break down. Even with out breaking, a bottle is but a transparent entity, and sooner or later, all would be known before breaking the bottle. “Just do it!” he repeated.

There would be no harm in doing so, Gina complied, gazing the sky with her eyes. The splendor of bright stars was more intense, the haze of summer nights not quite gripping the land in its curse, as more blotches of beautiful light littered the sky, all visible through the open location, thankfully left unblocked by the trees. “It’s… beautiful!” she stared as well.

“It’s terrifying!” Phil said, not even hearing her words. “These lights are larger and further than life can fathom. Some, for all we know, don’t even exist, but their sheer distance means we still see their light.” he sighed, continuing his dramatic monolog. “But they still inch their way to any eyes that can block out, or fortunately be unaware the fearful truths of the grand scheme of the universe.” he took another breath. He needed it! “We are… insignificant, meager. We too will be long gone some day.” a tear formed at his right eye, bringing with the salty waters a sense of unreflecting awareness to the world around him. He gazed at Gina, her brown eyes wide with astonished silence, fear no doubt. It was very understandable. He blinked, glancing to her again. “Uh, I’m sorry.” he frowned. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He wouldn’t dream of scaring her. It’d be wrong. He’d hurt her. He’d never forgive himself if she were hurt. ‘She doesn’t deserve a burden like me.’ he realized, his head, now downcast to the dark ground below him.

“You worry too much.” she began, her voice, timid and hesitant. She took a second to think things through. “One day… we will all be gone. None of what you says will even matter. We wont be around to worry about it.” her voice saddened at that thought. “Just don’t worry.” she smiled, its warm and contagious nature made his mouth shift into a smile as well, though a weak one. The boy stood up at that. “Where are you going?”

The Molson turned to her, “Well, I doubt you’d really like knowing, but I’m going to that tree over there to urinate.” he shrugged as he walked off. As they say, feel natural, nature’s way!

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.” mumbled Gina quietly, a bit flustered to the words he spoke, glad for the darkness and the fact nobody was looking at her.

Yet, there was one other human who heard everything. “Pew love!” spoke a childishly insane voice, ala Jimmy. “How sweet!” he then went on to his malicious giggle, just because it‘d be wrong if he didn’t every damn time!

Clearing the bladder was, well, a tad refreshing for Phil. The details though are nowhere to be found. But as he finished up, it seems the fateful gator decided to approach his trainer. With a quiet, raspy chant of its name, its presence was known to him. The boy’s eyes quickly shifted towards the reptile, deciding he might as well get to know it better. “Hey there.” he smiled, though it was forced and weak. Considering that its not even been twenty-four hours yet and life seemed to suddenly suck spherical objects, it’s a surprise he was still alive.

The Totodile nodded its head but once in acknowledgment. What the heck could the boy say anyway. This was a Pokemon. It seemed to understand any words spoken to it just fine, but he hadn’t even the slightest clue as to what it could possibly say in return. Baffled, Phillip stayed quiet, gazing to the land around him. Unfortunately, in the shadows of the night, he didn’t see much. Seemed as though all that was up and awake was some weird green spiders and a familiar curly tailed rat with purple, ratty fur.

Staring at the creature, it seemed to just go about its daily… or rather, nightly life, as its small legs brought it swiftly across the nightly meadows, breathing fire to light its path… wait a sec! Phil blinked wildly at that one. Red hot flames formed at the tip of the rat’s tooth, carefully wafting around its sharp teeth to light up a good amount of greenery about it, the flames taking on a spiraled shape like a buzz saw, and rotating just as quickly. Were it made of some solid substance, that bladed disc could probably split the planet in half had it been tossed by the one with the might of a god.

“I must be really tired.” Phil mumbled. Funny… he didn’t seem to feel THAT tired. Regardless, he knew that a Rattata couldn’t breath fire. He truly must have been seeing things. He blinked once, but the white hot light was still illuminating the trees to a bright forest green.

After a minute more of the blazing light and illumination, it seemed to disperse, dissipating harmlessly into thin air, in nothing but a cloud of smoke, hidden as it became suddenly shrouded in the darkness of night, their colors complimenting each other as a silent puff of smoke hit the air.

“I’m insane…” the boy stated calmly. “Now I finally understand my stability.” he joked to nobody.

He hardly noticed a small green creature approaching nearby. Hairs, short, yet noticeable grew along its body of chitin. Its yellowy, black striped legs also had tarantula hairs growing meshed about. And adorning its head was a rather wide, flat spike, hardly dangerous in the least.

“Eh? You heard nothing!” the boy grinned as he spoke to the Totodile, not quite looking at the creature, as he began reaching down to stroke gently the scaly skin of the reptilian Pokemon, whom he had learned was not his enemy. Instead, a hairy, filmy skin was what his fingers found, gliding along the surface suspiciously.

It didn’t go long, for after three seconds, a strange pair of pinching teeth bit into his hand, the boy yelped in pain. The spider was scared. Its voice piped up, naturally, the only word spoken was its name as it looked upwards towards the human. It was scared. Its bite was relatively not lethal. No! There would be no poison on the first bite. After all, why waste precious venom on something that may not need it. Suffice to say, there was no way that an average human would know that much.

“Yow!” went Phil, as he retracted his hand quickly. Looking down, he saw a pair of buggy eyes staring back up at him. His hand, punctured with the piercing spider fangs, pulsated like a rapid heart beat, fiercely in pain. Thankfully it didn’t draw blood, though his palm did have two very prominent, and easily noticeable puncture marks. The creature spoke again, words lost to a lack of lingual capabilities. Its dialog simply sounded like ‘Spinirak’.

Suffice to say, the blue gator was standing at the other side of the boy, and it damn sure wasn’t just going to stand around helplessly. Not a chance! It was, after all, a hunter at heart, and the hunter lives for the hunt. In a swift motion, its claws opened as it swiftly leapt to the left around the boy’s legs. As it ended, it leapt again, these razor sharp phalanges swiftly sunk deep into the creature’s flimsy chitin, white liquid oozing at the deep puncture.

Its bug eyes widening, it swiftly proceeded as it opened its insect mouth yet again. Instead of vicious fangs and teeth, a white, dry and sticky string began dancing in the air, wrapping itself around anything it could cling to. It spoke, repeating its own name over and over as its constrictive silk wrapped itself around the defensive Totodile’s waist, pulling its arms to its side as it roped around him.

Poor bug however was outnumbered. Phil wasn’t going to let Totodile fight this and lose. After all, this little bug didn’t stand that much taller than the lad’s foot. At such a fact, why not help our your Pokemon and give it a good kick! Verily, he proceeded to do just that. With a quick motion, his foot went flying straight for the creature’s thorax, breaking its careful web weaving as it unleashed a gasp of pain, yelling loudly its name as it keeled over in pain. It was not really expecting a battle.

“Well then…” the boy trailed off. “Let’s go back and catch some sleep.” he paused, suddenly something snapped. A memory. Yes! A memory of a few days back. It was his sister. She was so excited, talking, laughing and hardly able to contain herself as she gossiped on and on about a grand adventure that was to be. Somehow, all these words seemed useless back then, but now it stirred and swirled like a vicious black hole, letting nothing escape… not even light! Yes, she said something about Pokemon. Something… catch. Yes, it was that word he had just said that made his mind wander to that. Catch… yes. Something about fighting Pokemon. Throw… throw the sphere. The boy was deep at work in his mind.

Phil’s brain raced about as it quickly tried to understand and divulge what had been said that day. Racing, his mind beginning to stretch like putty the size of a mountain, easily circling the earth thrice over due to the elongation potential. Weaken, yes, that was a word she used as well… “HUZZAH!” he knew it now as both mind and mouth seemed to blurt it out in unison!

He reached to his pack to take a pokeball. To throw, or not to throw? That was the question. A creature so brave as to take a swipe at him from nowhere. Yes, he liked that. This thing had spunk! And now, oh man would it be fun to make this creature conform to every command possible. Yes, it would conform to the might and manipulation of man.

He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. He could not believe it. His mind had wandered to malicious intent! Villainous, cruel ideas and treatment. This would not become of his sister were she in his place. He simply HAD to stop thinking, ASAP! Without another game of mental warfare, he quickly grasped to his belt. His fingers rapped against the white of the poke ball twice, and then it was gone from his hand! Smacking against the green arachnid, it opened like a Pac-Man and oh so suddenly suddenly turned the beast into a ray of red light, glowing lightly for a second. Then the light was gone, leaving only a closed ball that seemed to dance vibrantly on the ground. Shaking about, the ball rolled about, smacking against a tree, bouncing one or two inches, landing more hushed than a pin drop as the grass softened its fall. After a short boogie, the ball seemed to have had enough. It was silent and still, save for a slight fading noise.

‘Did I do that?!’ Phil’s eyes widened. Most would be jumping for joy and calling themselves the king of Earth at their first capture. Not Phil though. ‘I… I did it all by myself!’ his hand moved involuntarily, grasping the ball in his fingers as he looked at it in shock. And of course, just to ruin the excitement, his hand reminded him of what it had as it stung to the grasping of the poke ball. He winced!

It was at this point that a rasp voiced crocodile, who had long since bit free of its constraining webs. A sticky, repulsive, and very dry taste lingered in its mouth. “Let’s get some sleep, now.” his restlessness began to show. Maybe now he’d be able to sleep, if not for the stinging pain lingering in the palm of his right hand.

Gina seemed to have long since fallen into a peaceful slumber. ‘Lucky girl. Why do I ruin her life with my presence?’ he sighed, looking at her. Her green hair whipped slightly to the calm breeze, as her head rested gently against the soft grass. He couldn’t see much beyond that however, for the darkness was not where human vision had its potential. Nearby, it seemed even the madman had fallen asleep. Even asleep, he seemed to make himself be known to all. If ever you wanted to hear some loud snoring, then this was where you’d go. ‘At least he’s not TALKING.’ The Bulbasaur, who kept the beast of a man restrained, was also sound asleep, its legs stretched in all diagonal directions around it. ‘I wonder if Pokemon dream… do they ever feel the guilt of life haunt the supposed peace and escape that sleep is said to provide, or is it simply rest for the next day?’

Delving deeper would have to wait. “Here…” he whispered to the Totodile. “I think you’ll rest easier within.” he held out a red ball the little gator had not been with since practically half a day ago. He didn’t wait for an answer as he activated the device on accident, pressing the protruding button that converted the cold blooded creature into pure, infrared energy. “Good night.”

Sleep came easily enough for the lad of vengeance. Visions raced through his dreams. Screams of pure terror, pain, and suffering filled the air like a fast spreading gas as a laughter boomed loudly behind it. The screams were of very different volumes, tones, and species. Rest assured though, none of them belonged to him. He awoke with a startled leap, drenched in sweat from fear. He knew not what had happened in the dream, but he knew what he was doing. He was the one laughing maliciously, like an evil overlord who had conquered the world! Morning dew was still wetly painted amongst the grass as he screamed in fear into the air. For the second time in under twenty-four hours, birds littered the air as a loud voice echoed the woods.

It was still early in the morning, time flies when you’re asleep after all. As he glanced about, Phil was glad that both humans seemed to remain asleep. ‘I wish I could sleep as easily as they can.’ he sighed. He was almost glad. He wouldn’t want to disturb Gina, and as for Jimmy… well, he WAS disturbed, and better left to loud snoring. It was unfortunate however for a certain grass Pokemon, who had been snapped out of wherever animalistic minds wander when slumber calls.

He simply let his head rest back against the wet grass. Surely it was just the peek hour of dawn, there was still time to rest up. Phillip Molson would not find himself back amongst the dream waves that day. He simply rested there, coated and caked in liquid, sweat in the open air, and wet grass on his backside. The chill of the winds didn’t even phase him. The chilling winds around him made him shiver. He did not sleep again that night.

 

[Dilasc]

You’re all in for a treat this chapter! New, made up Pokemon for you to enjoy. Our first featured beast is Lambshade. A word of caution! Leet TV, or channel 1337, speaks in, well, Leet speak. You have been warned, but still read and reply (not that anyone has yet) if you want. No need to wait for the actually NEW chapters to start sending replis and stuff.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 6: It’s All Inside

The gentle chirping of birds brought about the beginnings of a new day. Bugs, and creatures of all kinds sang their lines of the morning calm. Topping it off, a rooster bellowed loudly into the air. Its noise loud and precise. It was as though it were right up in Phil’s face. Truth be known, it WAS in Phil’s face. It was however, no rooster.

“You freaking psycho!” the boy shouted as he was snapped out of his entranced daze of fear, “How… how did you do that?” it was not very often that a human could crow perfectly to the ways of the rooster. It was of course a hopeless endeavor. There’d be no chance in nine thousand hells that dim Jim would answer.

“I’m just set up us the bomb!” he rambled, swaying about like the psycho he was. “Last night I dreamed I was a baby Lambshade! And all my brother Mareep would bleat me up because they were jealous they turned into Flaaffy instead. They was jealous!” Jimmy snickered. It seemed Jimmy was back to normal… well, as far as normal Jimminess goes. He proceeded to laugh like a maniac.

It was nearly fifty minutes longer of stories of his dream. He was a sheep apparently, and whatever Flaaffy and Lambshade were just didn’t seem to matter at the moment. As Jim’s insanity slipped, Phil felt like his would follow. “I swear!” he nearly yelled, standing up in a loud stamp.

This action, would you call it loud, you’d be saying apples were vegetables. But it did send the slightest thump that must have reached Gina somehow, for with a light yawn and stretch, her eyes opened to the morning sun and the dew that coated her. It was as though her hair was the grass itself, despite color tone differences.

“Uh, good morning Gina.” Phil said passively. It was apparent that good morning was truly not the way describe the Molson boy’s day, unless it were opposite day.

“Morning…” she yawned again as the sun sent its warmth upon her. “Well, I’m all soaked…” she whined, the morning dew sending a chill with the light breeze. “Are you ok Phillip?” her eyes came to his face. Women’s intuition perhaps it was. Regardless of how, she noticed all the redness in his face, especially around and in his eyes.

“Uh… I’m fine, really.” he spoke quickly. He didn’t want to hurt her, to scare her, or do anything to make her feel bad. His mind stretched. He did not want to get any deeper into the conversation. He had to change subject, ASAP! “How about we reach town first.” he sighed, noticing a grayness painting into the blue sky. “Looks like a few nasty clouds are headed this way.” he pointed out, as hiding behind leaves and trees was a sky painted over with splotches of the color gray... A dark gray. The gray seemed to form about, though not too quickly.

Gina too, scanned the sky briefly, nodding in agreement. “Very well.” she shrugged, looking over to the verdant reptile with a slight smile “Good morning.” she greeted. A nod and slight smile was the human’s response, followed by the creature declaring its species to the world.

More clouds seemed to darken the morning skies. “Lets go then.” Phil’s mind was far from reality however, as thoughts vast and many clouded his thoughts more quickly and thickly than those in the sky. Memories of the horrors felt in his most recent slumber filled his mind, vying to control his every action.

“Weeeeell… All around the blueberry bush, a Mankey chased a sneasel! The Mankey knew a battle was won. Aaaand Cross Chopped the Sneasel!” Jimmy’s insanity rang into the Molson’s ears, snapping the lad out of the craziness his mind had nearly tugged him to. “This has been brought to you all by Grassers Leech Seed Surprise, with the yummy taste of life drain!” he shouted as his tied up body swayed slightly within its vinery of confines. Indeed, everyone was indeed going to ‘go nuts’ if they had to keep hearing that man’s insanity, and Phil already seemed to be along the path of the nutcase.

He shuddered as Jimmy’s words rambled on in the form of spoofs based on everything commercialized to just about everything around. ‘I should have killed him…’ he sighed, ‘I’m just a coward!’ his head went downcast as his eyes trailed about the worn dirt roadway. If rain was indeed the forecast, mud, cold air, and water would make life simply suck even more than it already did. As far as Phil was concerned, suicide wouldn’t even be enough to make an escape from it all. No, he still had much to accomplish in the world of the living.

It may have been hours of walking. There was no more sunlight, and very little blue that seemed to inch through. Surely, water would be fast and furious as it fell to the ground at a rapid rate. “I think we’re almost there.” encouraged Gina, as plants and tree branches whipped about wildly in the growing winds.

Jimmy’s irritable, and accursed voice laughed viciously, disturbing the balance of life and stability itself. “I’m shaking my bacon and great money makin! WHEE!”

Phil gritted his teeth! He oh so wanted to rip out his lungs on the spot. This… vile murder, scum beyond scum, was he really worth the molecular carbon intake that he happened to be? Would not the entire world be better off without this man? Were he sent to prison, taxes would be sent to support his existence. Despicable worm that he was, he couldn’t even have the decency to be scared for his miserable life! There would never be any complete vengeance over this sadistic moron! ‘I’ve failed!’ his mind rang out. ‘I failed my sister.’ he had not exacted revenge after all. Catching the killer would never be enough.

But… would she WANT him to kill? Phil’s stomach churned at the controversial thought of it. She wouldn’t. Do two wrongs make it right? There was no turning back time now. She was gone… gone forever! Now all he could do was live her dream.

Gina didn’t seem to be quite as disturbed by everything. Her eyes seemed wide and curious, her pace calm yet steady, her mind, no doubt, freer of worries. Her voice seemed a guiding, and soothing touch on his existence. She seemed to care about him, as odd as it seemed. ‘She doesn’t deserve my misery!’ Oh how he’d love to have her presence, with her attractive green hair… ‘Wait, what am I saying?’ he shook his head ever so slightly. He perked his head up slightly, the sight of a building loomed before him through thick trees. Wait a second!

“We’re here, at last!” sighed Gina in relief, catching some time to breath as they stood at the edge of the city limits. Indeed it was QUITE a city. Out of the forest and into a jungle of masonry and concrete. Indeed, it would be quite a populated place as towers stretched the sky now deeply and darkly gray.

The fact that a man with a bruised face was hanging by a the vines of a Bulbasaur and being carried through a busy roadway was no big deal. After all, in Feltinburg, the mature community was celebrating their annual Bondage week. “B, D, S, M!” yelled Jimmy, his rhythm akin to that of a cheerleader’s, “I don’t know just what I am! One two three four, I can’t find no better *****!”

“Where should we go now?” asked Phil, doing his best to ignore the one he wished was not alive. unsure of where on earth safe havens could possibly be for travelers in large mazes like this. Feltinburg seemed liked it’d be one heck of a place to live, even with sarcasm behind those words.

Gina let her lips curve, forming a slight yet confident smile. “We should go to the Pokemon Center!” she exclaimed with confidence.

“Ok…” Phil trailed, nodding for no reason other than the fact that there are joints in the neck. ‘What the heck is that?’

The look of the unsure though made him quite a bit easier to read than popup books for three year olds. After all, what harm in being wrong? Gina, spoke again, explaining things about he ways of the ‘Pokemon Center.’ How people would go there to rest, and heal their Pokemon, for free. It was a short explanation to say the least, as her eyes roamed the roadways. “Say! That’s it over there.” she pointed.

Indeed it seemed safe a place. Quaint, and perhaps, hopefully cozy, it seemed to stand out amongst other buildings with their asbestos and dry wall. It even had the word running across the rooftop in large, bold letters just to give its presence away.

It was sheer contrast to the city where it seemed to be situated. The hustle and bustle of life would probably never cease whether day, night, or apocalyptic end of all humanity, for the crowds were large enough to mow down the entire populace of China. As the humans and their lunatic prisoner were swept in, it felt like “Not going anywhere for a while? Grab a Stinkers! Icky Sludge Bombs, nasty Toxics, and everything smells like poop! Stinkers! Why wait! WHEE!” and crowds didn’t seem to back away. After all, he was just a nameless face in the crowd. “Mmmm… Stinkers! Makes me wanna call on Koffing!” he then laughed. His shrill agony drowned out by bustle, and rustle of the crowds.

Suffice to say, Jimmy did have a few proper brain cells that could react to the world around him, and though bonds were too tough, he knew just how to thrust to the ground in just such a way to unleash the Pokemon from its glorious confines. Suffice to say, his reasons were heavy in the stupidity department. After all, he’d nay be hanging by his arms and legs possibly if he had called upon it sooner. In an instant, he moved with such a force that if it weren’t for the clanging of metal on concrete, he’d splatter his bladder in a splash of red and colors most vile against the gray of the cement roadway.

Instead of red blood, there was red light. Infrared, a familiarity that meant that a Pokeball had been used. A glowing beam sprang into the air inches above the tidal waves of crowded townsfolk. As the infrared lights died, a creature with a surface rough of skin remained, and the rainbow spectrum of colors went to the complete antonym… ultraviolet. Truth be known, its skin was not made of light at all, but it was purple, and shaped quite a symmetrical sphere, which seemed to float in the air though tiny pores formed bumps and a rough surface, where tiny orifices seemed to let seep gasses of all varieties. Its weird shape nay even half as enigmatic as the fact that its body floated, defying laws of gravity and aerodynamics. This scoundrel of science had a face that seemed as forever smiling as its nutcase trainer, but its mind was far from in a happy place. Then again there was contrast upon this criminal to scientific law, for just below its face, a shape of a skull, and crossed bones below that. The ideal choices of a pirate’s black and scary flag. A sense of doom and sadness seemed to emanate from this figure.

With a sigh, it looked about. The purple sphere’s life was a sham. How it despised and feared the human who had it leashed, but never would it wish to return to the wilds. It was far too gone from that life now. Its life was now for that amongst humanity, and despite the odd and lacking style of love, affection, and care received, the spherical one would never return to amongst its kin in freedom. Something was pulling at its sickly, gas filled heart towards the ways of humanity and travel. As it looked down towards its human commander, its eyes widened, and would have had its mouth wide in shock, had it the facial muscles to muster more than a smile.

The human below, crazy, and roped up, looked at the round purple stinker. “SMOG!” he shouted. His yells ignored by the many as it was drowned out by nearly a billion other voices, but not to the gas ball. It knew well its commander’s voice. You could stick the entire universe in a room and have everyone shout something at the same time, but this little Koffing would easily spot the psycho even if his voice was drowned out. Naturally, hearing such a simple command like such was easy to follow.

In short time after the order, bodily pores and ever smiling mouth let loose thick green clouds of wretchedness. Their thickness was so heavy, it could break a knife, as it clouded up and expanded rapidly. It didn’t take long for the green billowing clouds to make people begin to clamp hands and fingers around their nasal entryways. Like a tidal wave made of human pigment, the ground thundered with the running of clomping footwear. People scattered about, running over each other, making mayhem and all around there was chaos, all over some cloudy stink disrupting the flow of city life. It was a mere taste of what industry will one day do to them all.

Even Phillip Molson was on the run. That is of course, until he saw Jimmy’s hanging, and bound up. How difficult would it be to spot a Bulbasaur constricting arm and leg movement of a crazy man. It was amazing how separated he and the Meshing lass were separated “Gina!” he spoke quickly. He had not been separated from her, most fortunately, as he quickly grasped her arm. “Look!” he spoke to her as he grabbed her attention. She obeyed!

It was a hell of a sight to behold. A purple, floating landmine smiling carefree, shrouded by the clouds of nasty carcinogens. Below it, there was Jimmy! His psychopathic ways as he dangled within his confines, never flinching, wheezing, choking or suffocating to the unhealthy air. It would be assured that his lungs would be blacker than his heart by the time this was all over, and his heart would get blacker too. “Oh, you make them scream and run! Whee!” he cheered. It was, to be honest, the love relationship between Jimmy and his spherical beast. And the watcher of the convict, the verdant dinosaur, seemed to be struggling to the bad odors. It was, after all, sane enough to feel the pain.

“Bulbasaur!” shouted Gina, garnering the attention of the Pokemon that was indeed hers. Indubitably, its attention snapped forth in a heartbeat. Hearing its mistress, the creature bolted in he direction of the sound, as a purple gasbag ceased its reign of plague the second his lord was carted off. It would not lose him yet. There were no alternatives! “This way!” Gina continued, her finger pointing in the direction of the Pokemon center, which was not far at all.

In but a minute, the trek to the Pokemon center was complete. Few people braved the billowing smog outside, so the streets were emptied. The smog aloe probably drained Phil of all his breath, leaving him exhausted and miserable. Upon entering the Pokemon center however there was merely… salvation! Yes, from rustle, hustle, and bustle, this place was a heavenly contrast. Fresh air conditioners provided a much needed salvation to the lungs. The place was very sparsely filled, contrasting that of the city with probably less than a hundred people in sight. Heck, there probably weren’t even half that many people. The walls seemed well kept and maintained, glistening with seemingly unpeeled paint, and clean tiled floors and ceilings. In short, this place was a salvation!

It wasn’t every day though that dead tired kids with a man tied up while he laughed without a care in the world entered your house, was it? Its almost ensured that this would garner attention of a helpful nature. “Dear me!” came an effeminate voice, followed shortly by the presence of the woman who owned it. This seemed to be a person of caring nature. A woman of pink hair, and perhaps endless hospitality in need of no introduction, except perhaps for a name we all know well. “Are you children ok?” she asked. There was no doubt this woman was anything but hope of surviving until tomorrow. Her sweet voice would either make you feel at great peace, or be nice enough to make you vomit.

Phillip coughed and wheezed. He had been doing so for a bit now, all dizzy with bad toxins plaguing and darkening the bloody airways of his inner body. “Need fresh air!” he spoke, his words constantly disrupted by toxicity empowered coughing. He really didn’t feel like telling a long winded story when he was feeling… well, winded.

It was hearty hospitality, as the boy and girl went to sit by the couch to relax. Phil grunted breathlessly, hacking up a blackened grossness of phlegm. Disgustingness aside, there was a garbage bin by his side. The wooden cylindrical object was covered by a bag of flimsy plastic. Its purpose to keep the wooden woven meshing clean.

“That’s disgusting!” retorted Gina in repugnant disgust. She too had been coughing uncomfortably as well. She didn’t seem to have it as badly as the Molson boy though, or so you’d think. In an instance, she stood up. Had she gills, they’d have been green. “Uh, excuse me!” she spoke quickly, dashing off for whatever form of sanitary vomit holes could be found.

This left Phillip alone. Alone to mull about life, and how rotten everything had become. The need for blood, his gone yet unforgotten sister, lying cur Mr. Brenetmos the attractive Gina, dastardly insane Jimmy, a misfortunately accused Totodile, heck his mind even wander towards his recently caught Spinirak which he knew nothing about. ‘Damn it! Why me?’ he wondered. Would life be worth it? Would it not just be better to die now? All these thoughts plagued him. It felt like death was indeed the best answer.

That is of course until he noticed a television hanging from a shelf on the wall. “And now back to $c003ee D00d!!!11 pn 1337 +V!” spoke the television as all sorts of numbers and improperly cased letters roamed. Zeroes, and the number 1337 seemed to dominate the screen. Surely, it’d be enough to fry a genius’ brain… unless of course they were a computer genius.

This was channel 1337. Where things are spelled wrong and spoken wrong because its funny that way. It was one of Phillip’s favorite channels too. ‘Whoever did that for me, thank you!’ he sighed with wheezed relief. If not forever, then let his mind be off the throngs of painful reality for just but a while.

The TV began to speak again. “L31k +h1$ 1$ 1337!11!1ONE. J1nXX0rz!!11” went an odd bum in a green shirt as suddenly the screen frazzled out. A number in bold font and bright, laser green promptly made itself visible in the lower right corner. It clearly meant one thing. CHANNEL CHANGE! The boy quickly looked about to find and bemoan the perpetrator. He would never get to it though, for in a cascade of green hair, he saw who it was. It was Gina, with a simple television remote in her hand.

As he began to yell the word ‘Hey’ at her, she interrupted him. “Oh c’mon. That channel is bad for you. Besides, I want to watch ‘Saving Private Raikou.’” she said. “It’s a good film. Part of the long and interesting autobiography of a military man named Noldin Spacro.” she decided to explain for the sake of conversation, “Its called ‘Behind the Spacro, Meaning of War’ and it’s a big hit still. It seems however, that commercials were still not completed with their brevity yet.

On the screen was seen a few poorly drawn cartoon men. Merely lines of ink on a white background, they too had no coloration. A man with a heavy accent spoke. “Vonderful!” it was clear that some of his V’s were actually W’s. “Granbull Enagy Drink!” his accent poorly done seemed not to remove the meaning of the words spoken. “Don’t you know? Granbull gives you Ving Attacks!” finished the no so funnily accented man as the commercial came to an end.

“Yea. I’m sure the story is wonderful!” Phillip spoke in sarcasm. What did he want to hear about war right now? Nothing! Blood, violence, and politics all meant nothing. The Molson boy coughed again. “Well, have fun!” he stood up. He needed to cool down. Now deprived of the brain rotting salvation of R0XX0R3$+ channel around, Phil needed something to ease his painful existence. ‘I need a drink!’ He didn’t mean alcohol.

 

[Dilasc]

I decided to put in another interlude here, simply to get me back into the swing of actual writing. Another peak into the mysterious Orbital Occult. Bleh, there’s a legendary here too, but I have no idea how good a job I may be doing writing legendaries. Replies on the subject would be helpful by far.

Dust to Deceit

Interlude 2 - We Might Be Gnats

A yellow haired man glanced to the sky above. Many stars glistened before his sight, bright, yet partly distorted from the summer’s haze. The moon was up there too, shaped like a fingernail, a mere sliver of its full, unchanging glory.

To think, man once dreamed of the moon and stepping foot on such a dead, and lifeless surface. Now, in Arthur Landon’s mind, the moon was a waste of man’s time. ‘Gretkan is out there... somewhere in this galaxy.’ He smiled at the thought. Gretkan was his dream, his salvation. It was a salvation for all who wished to follow. ‘Man or beast, all will be welcome to Gretkan We will be free.’

“Freedom is to each his own. Most would rather remain safe.” A booming voice stated from above the yellow haired man.

Vast wings flapped loudly, kicking up much dirt from the nearby hills. Landing behind Arthur was a beast that many would only dream of meeting face to face. It’s mere presence lit up the night sky around it, showing its white, smooth skin, and long wings that looked to have their own fingers at the tips. Its face glared sternly at the human beside it, the blue and black providing the beast with an almost intimidating appearance. “It is unsafe out there, human.” Its voice did not move as it spoke, but its words were quite audible for anyone within a good few hundred feet to be able to hear.

Its voice was not loud, but something about its words were commanding, as though they spoke to the mind Arthur however, did not tremble at the sight, and the immense power he felt from this creature. “Lugia...” he said quietly, the word felt like acid on his tongue as he spoke it.

“You don’t sound surprised to see me.” the legendary beast asked in a falsely disappointed tone. Dare it be said, a godly beast had nearly sounded sarcastic, but mostly insulted. After all, Lugia was a beast that was feared and respected at the same time, and it was well aware of its power and prestige. “It is not every day that someone gets to chat with a legend such as myself.”

“You are small and unimportant to me, no matter how self-important you are.” the man replied in an honest tone. “Do you honestly think you can sway me from my dream? You make it sound like what I seek is evil!”

Lugia’s gaze was deep, almost concerned. “Evil?” it asked, shaking its head. “No! There is no good and evil. There is merely misguidedness!”

“You cling to your desires to control us.” Arthur replied, calmly, yet obviously quite displeased. “You fear that there may be powers greater than your own. Powers that are not even physical!” He paused, the thrilling intensity of his dramatic tone caught up to him as he waited for a second. “You fear science... knowledge! In short, you fear intelligence!”

Lugia replied a tone worthy of a legendary. “You know well that your heart thinks it is in the right place. I am glad you are not malicious, but you must know where your place is in the circle of life. You are not a god. You are human, and must remember that if you seek gateway to another planet, you will ruin that planet’s development.”

“I have made careful preparations to avoid causing unrest. Gretkan is a big planet. It is so big, that you cannot fathom how vast it is!”

The legend did not care for what the Occult leader was saying. “You must not disturb Vortexaco! It’s flatulent portals are not toys to be used for avaricious ambition.”

Arthur’s eyebrow went upwards, and his head tilted downwards ever slightly. With a single cough, he replied to the beast of legend. “Such large, and inaccurate words. Anyone, anyone at all who seeks to expand humanity to Gretkan is welcome to join us.” His brown eyes fixated upon the eyes of the legendary.

“Yes...” Lugia replied, but it did not get to say any more than that as the yellow haired man interrupted.

“Do you know what kind of falsehoods, lies, and heresy my followers are convicted of!” Arthur asked in an honest tone. “Hell, our last leader was executed for a crime that doesn’t even exist! That man was my friend! Do you know how important we are to astronomers and how helpful we can be to shuttle launches?”

“I... am aware.” Lugia replied, its tone honest and understanding. “Regardless of these facts, I regret to inform you that we may clash with hostilities if you continue your crusade!”

This was hardly a shock for Arthur Landon to hear, but it was not pleasing in the least. The fact that he and his men may perish at the hands of legendary beasts was unnerving. To see his dreams shattered by genocide sent a deathly frightening chill up his spine. There was only one question on the man’s mind. “Why?”

Lugia did not reply at first. After a few seconds of delay, the legend spoke in its telepathic voice once again. “I cannot tell you why!” it replied. “As cliched as it may sound, to you humans, you have to find out for yourself.”

Arthur nodded his head. “You’re right.” he replied earnestly. “That certainly sounds like a cliche.” With that, he grunted audibly. “Still, if it’s violence that you seek, the Occult will not back down! You are after all, just a Pokemon.” He paused, holding his slightly wrinkled hand up, with his pointer finger in front of his face. “Just a single Pokemon. Even you alone have your limits.”

“Think what you will!” replied Lugia with its booming telepathic voice. “I must depart for now. We will meet again, human.” With emphasized tone on the word human, the beast’s mighty wings flapped loudly, and the white legendary departed from the hilly grounds, and soared off into the night sky. “Hopefully, you will come to understand me!” Within seconds, Lugia was gone!

‘You’re a gnat, Lugia! You are a gnat who thinks that you're a god!’ Arthur’s mind concluded. “You are nothing but an interference! A disruption to the endless hope for the future!” Lugia however, was already gone, and heard none of his words.

 

[Dilasc]

No funky comments yet. I’m only going to post my new chapter. But I do feel disappointed at the lack of readers. What’s wrong? I don’t bite unless you give me permission, and even then I think it’s just a bit too kinky for my tastes. Anyway, if I have any true blue readers, would anyone be curious to know just what Pokemon are, or rather, aren’t in Kertonmel. Of course, to let me know, you need to use the reply box, and hit send! If I get enough curiosity, you’ll have your list of Pokemon you can’t find, except for waters, in which case, it’s vice-versa since there’s very few in Kertonmel. Anyway, on to a revised story. Keep your eyes peeled for other Pokemon made by yours truly, and if you ask, I may just post statistics on their basic statistics.

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 7: In Chef’s Clothing

Water, as plaintive as it seems, this clear liquid was everything. In spite of its transparency, this liquid was everywhere, and never was there enough to drink! Suffice to say, the glistening cup before Phillip Molson could have been concocted in a mixture with rat poison and dry wall would not deter his desperation. How long had it been since his last intake of refreshing liquid? Perhaps about a day, and he was parched.

It was here, at the Pokemon Center’s cafeteria, that Phil would quench his extreme need for liquid fill. Much akin to one at schools, there were trays for food and food aplenty. But unlike school, people seemed to give a damn for fine polishing and nay but a few scraps of paper littered the floor. Heck, even the undersides of the tables were sparkly clean. You couldn’t even find as little a wad of once chewed gum… under any table if you went out of your way and looked. The food didn’t look half bad either. In fact, he’d be certain that most of the food wasn’t going to crawl out your stomach through any orifices, not until fully completed digestion anyway.

It almost made him wonder if he was still in this huge, polluted city. Truth be known, he would have, were it not for the window that showed torn down apartments and skyscrapers aplenty as all was pelted down by loud droplets of rainwater, which only piled up his parched need for liquid in the soul and throat!

The boy parted his arid lips as the glass of icy cold transparency quickly went to work. In an instant, the dry was washed out in a splash of cool, rejuvenating salvation! The icy water sending a slight chill of relief through his body. There was no time to savor the taste! The sand in his throat was long without aquatic touch, making it almost foreign to have it again. It would not matter though, for after many more cups of glistening, sparkling purity, a relief would wash over at long last. The glass even felt refreshing to his punctured palm, though returning to normalcy, it still stung, and badly!

After all that much water, he did none other than, you guessed it, he sighed with icy cold air in greatly over exaggerated relief. If it were life on the stage as he so earned, icy clouds of dry ice would spew forth. Like any overdose of liquid though, one thing is for certain. ‘I gotta find the bathroom!’ and with his bladder full of water, he was off from the graciously heavenly cafeteria… to excrete liquids he seemingly just put in.

As he was pissing off, Gina was buckled down, deeply immersed with the movie onscreen. There, on that screen of glorious radiation eye poisoning lights was a man of great muscle. With hair of dirt blonde, and muscles aplenty, you could tell he was somebody you thanked your lucky stars for if he was on your side, especially in the battlefield of war. As this scene seemed set, a voice of narration seemed to dominate. ‘Good buddy Surge always seemed to have a positive attitude, or at least, as positive as could be when you’re bathed in the blood of your enemies.’ The big man, Surge, unleashed from his side none other than the red and white glory of none other than a Pokeball, which unleashed in its common beam of red… another Pokeball? No, this thing had hands, and arms! Muscular arms, biceps that would rival that of the man who released the beast were it not for the size difference. The body of the creature was spherical, with an upper body of pure red, and dark grayish-white on its lower half. Its face was that of smirking eyes an a well pronounced mouth with teeth that blended with the white of its stomach. Its arms seemed to take on one of these colors too as they extended from the color split between both halves. The left was of the gray-white, and red was that of the other arm. These arms were raging with unnaturally strong muscles.

‘Ah, Ion! It was Surge’s best, and bravest pokemon. You probably think that is some Electrode with arms. That is indeed what an Ion is, or at least, it is what it’s evolved from. With arms built for fighting, it was a hell of a nasty thing to go up against, especially with an even more explosive way of life. It was,’ the narrator sighed, ‘and man oh man did Surge cry the day that brave Ion passed away… but that’s another story.’ the narration seemed to end at that, picking an oddest of times to roll for more commercials.

Gina sighed and stretched her arms. The movie was pretty good so far, no questions asked. After all, every single volume in the series was stellar. For a man with a gun, he sure was emotional to be able to write about his whole military life. ‘The Spacronicles’, as it was called, was simply a breathtaking series of biographical adventures and they were Gina’s favorite. She lived by them, the story of a killing leading to the need for more blood as the powers of lust contort his very soul, making him need to feed his eyes, eye candy if you will, in the form of crimson blood. He craved it! It was a drug. There was never any suffering, just a quick, bloody death! It would then end in a painfully scary realization of the murderous monstrosity he’d become when… well, that’s a secret.

It is because of these books that Gina had been against killing, no matter how bad a person may be. Death was not the answer. People are people after all, and everyone needs a chance. If killing in cold blood was allowed in war, then people could become uncontrollable savages of doom who kill just because they had the craving. It’s as bad as cigarettes, but it kills thrice as much, given the chance. That was one of the morals of ‘The Spacronicles.’

Over an hour passed, completing in full the movie ‘Saving Private Raikou’ proved to be as flawless as the story it was taken from. Time enough was this to revive from carcinogen, travel and fatigue in luxury. But while kids recuperated, the lady of hospitality seemed to take time to talk to a certain lovable nutcase. “Now Jimmy,” began the lady of the pink, “I dunno what you’re up to today, but you’ve gone out getting yourself in a heap of trouble. I need you working in the kitchen!” Fact was, she hadn’t heard what the heck happened out there. “Do explain yourself…”

The setting was simple. It was the boss’ office, and lady of hospitality was indeed the boss around here. An office desk with papers scrambled about with paperwork to be done. The life of a nurse really was complex. This was Jimmy she was speaking to. Foolish, uncontrollable, psychopathic Jimmy. “Hey pretty lady! You have pink hair! Whee!” he was still himself, only now he was untied. He was a danger to all once again.

The nurse blinked nearly five times in but a second before she replied to that, suffice to say a bit red with both anger and flustering embarrassment. “Uh…” She began. How on earth does one acknowledge that sort of answer? Heck, fact be known, that wasn’t even an answer, that was just whack! That’s right, whack! Freaky! Insane, senseless. Something was different about the Jimmy she knew. “Where on earth did you get all those nose rings, and eye rings… and any other rings?” Something was wrong! Jimmy seemed different. It was, unexplainably, rest assured that this was Jimmy, but he was INSANE, or so he seemed.

“Oh nursey babe!” came a rather familiar voice from beyond the door. Without even a polite knocking warning, the doors opened, revealing… Jimmy? Odd, he looked just like… Jimmy, but there was no rings mutilating his body, and he was dressed like a chef. In puffy white chef hat, and white chef apron that read ‘Kiss the Cook’. “I’ve finished up some spicy Squirtle Turtle Soup with Bellsprout powder seasoning!” he declared in his Jimmy voice, following it up with the oh so nerve raking laughter that many have come to love or hate.

“Sounds good.” went the dark-pink haired woman. “I’ll be glad to help myself to some too if I may.” she smiled as the pierce bodied Jimmy still sat in front of her as the door shut itself. Typical of this situation though, the nurse of course opened the door. “Jimmy!” she shouted, dashing into the finely tidy walls of the hallway, scattering papers from her desk as she went.

“Oh hello, nursey babe!” went the chef-wearing version of psycho. “You sure like hassling with my psycho half brother don’t you.” he grinned, providing the laugh that made famous for chapters now. “I do hope you remember that my family is a lot like yours.” the grin faded not, though his voice sounded solemner than anything the psycho could ever muster.

She knew the story, not well, but she indeed knew it. The legacy of Jimmy was an interesting one. Unlike her own Joy Luck Nurse Club story, Jimmies were diverse. Indeed they all looked alike, all using their Jimmy laugh, happy nature and tendency to outburst the word “WHEE!” No two Jimmy were ever identical in occupation.

“Right… how COULD I forget?” the nurse known as Joy remarked, rolling her eyes, shrouding horribly from the embarrassment of the mistake she had made with sarcasm. Something however didn’t seem right all of the sudden. An eerie sense of wrong loomed in the air. “Wait, what did you say he was?” her eyes were wide pure terror. If Jimmy had said what she thought he did…

In a burst of speed though, a pile of papers scattered into the hallway as a loud, nerve-wracking laugh echoed menacingly as it lingered on the ears of all who were unfortunate enough to hear it. “WHEEEE!” the psycho’s voice rang and lingered as he dashed like a loony as he kicked open an unshut door.

Gina leapt from the couch she had long been resting on and literally hit the moon and beyond. “Oh no!” she choked on her words in fear, as her knees trembled beneath her. Jimmy was free, and running rampant. It was no doubt that he’d cause untold amounts of mischief.

“Ooh! Girlie!” smiled the ring faced whacko. “WHEE!” he shouted as he launched himself towards her like a homing missile without recourse. His face still maintained its unwavering giddiness. Potted plants tipped over, leaving fresh black soil to spill to the tiled floor. “We can have fun!”

His grasp was firm. He was, after all, a crazy person, and you should never hit a crazy person! He giggled in his insanely unsurprising way, grinning wildly with eyes that stared deep into nothingness as they stared down the grappled girl. “Whee!” he repeated loudly and happily.

Peace and quiet. It may have been a public bathroom, which not even the best of housecleaning could maintain, but it was quite an empty place. Molson boy seemed to enjoy simply lazing around with his pants down in a locked bathroom stall. As odd as it seemed, it was… relaxing. For once, he was truly alone, and he savored every drawn out second of ‘me time.’ For a few hours now, Phil enjoyed nothing more than silence disturbed only by dripping waters and running pipes. After all, there was no such thing as complete and utter silence. If not the noises around you, then surely the ringing within his head would have been the disturbance instead. A ringing that would irk any who dared listen to it long enough.

Suffice to say, nothing is eternal. It would not have mattered much what the noise was, if it were anything but that incessantly aggravating laugh. Oh how it turned his brain into a vulnerable ball of bruised slop. It would haunt the poor lad for the rest of his life, knowing that his dear sister had been tormented by that sick man with his sickening personality. It was a mystery to himself why he let that man live! Better to spill his blood and end him now than let him get to a possible escape. There’d be no lingering pain, just a quick and bloody death. Yes, bloody. The thought made Phillip almost smirk until he realized he was almost salivating. His head snapped upwards as he blinked with a shudder. This was a nightmare, and he wanted to end the pain, before it would end him.

It was in this anger that he almost forgot to catch himself with his pants down. Worse yet, he was about to run out of the stall just like that, definitely something that’d make matters even worse. It was fortunate for all that he did remember, even the decency to follow up with the ways of the toilet flush, and round and round the water spun, a cyclone of icky water drained to the sewers beyond, directionally swirling at the whims of the hemisphere.

It only made matters worse that he boy didn’t take the time to wash his hands. Gross! This was only further complicated with the sight before him as he opened the door. There, standing beside the hospitality lady of pink in the hallway, was Jimmy! He was without his rings or bruises, but that didn’t matter, he was still the same loony, and would die all the same, “Hello Jimmy!” his teeth were clenched through his words. “Having fun?” he smiled, still with teeth clenched.

“Uh…” began the cooking man with confusion. “What?” he asked. The man was a bit afraid, after all, the boy did disperse an air of uncomforting danger.

“Do not play dumb with me!” roared the boy. It was time to restrain his criminal once and for all. For his second time ever on his quest of shame, he opened a Pokeball. In a flash of infrared formed six hairy yellow legs attached to a hairy spider body. “Uh…” the human boy began in stammering confusion. He had no idea what this creature was called, or how on earth to command an attack.

It only made matters worse when the arthropod stared back up at the human boy with a sad look of horror. HE had kicked it. He used his accursed human technology and trapped the poor spider in the Pokeball. It couldn’t of happened at a worse time for the poor spider, for it was on its way to mate at long last in its short life. Oh so many female spiders awaited the poor little creature. Now, he was nothing but an angry spider with an overflow of sexual frustration. There would be no easy way to relieve this tension, thanks in part to the spiders odd build that’d make grasping a tad tough. It instead resorted to stringing up the face of the human that ruined his simple hormonal life with a tear in each eye. If he was to be a broken spider, he might as well make things worse for the human who dared start it all.

“Hey!” Phil yelled as string began to form, grabbing the spider forcefully with both hands. “What the hell is your problem?” His only response was the razor swish of white fangs. From the tip of one of the pointy appendages, a clear liquid seemed to hang on the edge. It was a tinted liquid, that of a brightly colored shade, though the definite color behind the tint was a bit hard to decipher. ‘Venom! This twit’s trying to kill me!’ his mind went as he tossed the spider to the ground in rage, disrupting its focus. He then proceeded to grasp it again. “Listen here you little dipstick,” the Molson boy’s voice rang with angry authority. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but if you EVER try and bite me again, I will rip off all your legs and let you suffer by not letting you die!” his voice was not stable, as he hissed the words while his lower lip quivered in total madness. It was as though you’d expect eye twitching any second now. “Ya know what next?” he taunted the poor bug mercilessly, “When that’s done, I’m gonna laugh and laugh and laugh! I’ll tell others to laugh at you too, you pitiful slime!” his intimidating tone rang deep into the little creature. The human seemed to have it in for him, as fear kept the small critter in check.

It seemed that he practically forgot that there were people about. “Uh, kid. You need to learn some respect.” Following that, the chef unleashed the trademark family laugh, which reminded Phil that both and the nurse lady were standing in front of him this whole time. It was all Phil needed to snarl again.

“Stop that god damn laughing!” the angry Molson boy roared as he stamped his foot at the ground. “Now…” the Molson boy continued loudly in anger. “Use your webbing on that ugly one who dared to speak!” he commanded the spider forcefully. “This is the end Jimmy! When you get to hell, I’ll be glad of the precious time we’ll not share this same plane of corporeal existence.” yes. That was a thought. It’d be heaven in itself to purge life of this scourge to his existence. For whatever likely few years it would be, this short time would be worth an eternity sharing hell with that dastardly laughing menace. There was no response tough from the spider as it stared at the boy, tilting its head with no understanding of the words told. “Damn it! Use that stringy stuff before I squash you under the soles of my shoes!” he demanded again. There was nothing. All that had come to pass was the sight of widening black spider eyes, and six quivering yellow arachnid legs.

Chef Jimmy unleashed a sigh from his lips, as his voice filled with a seriousness. “I know what you’re thinking.” he took a pause, holding his arms out for a moments peace. “Trust me though, when I say right now that you’re looking for my half brother.” he spoke, fear on his face, lest he face the deadly venom of a spider’s bite.

“It’s true.” chimed in the lady of the pink. Her face turned stern. “If you dare attack my chef…” she stood protectively in front of the man, as if to take a bullet meant for him. “then I wont let you sty at my Pokemon Center.” her arms folded in front of her chest calmly. “Its bad enough you seem to treat your Spinarak like a slave and with no value to its life!” she had seen the whole thing. “I hope you know love goes loads further than idle threats!” she sighed as she ended her speech.

“Lady, my threats will not be staying idle!” the boy said with a loud shout of assurance.

“Well neither will mine.” the woman retorted. “You won’t be welcome here!” her arms were folded, as all seriousness seemed to linger in every word. Her eyes were cast away. “I will heal your Pokemon after we catch that maniac, but I will demand that you leave right afterwards unless you act more humane!” It almost sounded as though the woman was about to cry.

In a mere second, Phil bolted back from the world of lusted blood and revenge! Kicked out! No! He needed to stay here for a night! He was tired, battered, and moody. He’d go insane if he couldn’t take but a brief moment for relaxation in a bed. Surely there was nowhere else he could go. If he didn’t have this time to rest, he would surely die! His heart sank at the thought. ‘I’ve failed my sister. I guess when the hells freeze over during visiting day, I’m sure I’ll be allowed to see my sister. I know they have visiting day every five hundred years at least,’ his brain slammed itself against mental warfare and dreadful thoughts… ‘But then again, three hundred years is not even a million days in length.’

It was at that moment that a scream seemed to fill all three humans that there was indeed something wrong around here. The scream had a feminine ring to it, as the sounds of slamming doors seemed to hastily remind with an oh so disturbingly familiar laugh. There was no way that this Jimmy here could be that skilled of a ventriloquist. “My brother! We have to stop him. Whee!” went Jimmy as he clenched the puffy white chef’s hat into his hands nervously to twist up the fabric for soothing energy release.

“Fine then!” Phil sighed with great caution. Something about this all felt so wrong, but he would trust them for now… ‘Gina, oh god no! If you die, know that you will be missed. It should be me!’ His mind snapped back. He bolted towards the noise, returning to the main hall.

Gina was there, her eyes wide in fear as she stayed sprawled on the couch, apparently and thankfully unhurt. It made Phil’s extremely hyperactive heartbeat soften up just a bit to know she was safe. “Gina!” he ran to her. He had to make sure though. “Are you alright?”

She smiled slightly at the sight. “Yes, I’m just fine.” she reassured slowly. “Thank you for your concern.” she added, just because it was polite. “Jimmy didn’t do anything to me though.” she half lied, wishing not to cause the death of an unfortunate man. After all, Jimmy never asked to be mentally challenged. He did pounce on her indeed, but he didn’t do anything for practically half a minute except for the word Whee and other babble that would make redneck high school dropouts seem like Einstein. To say though that she felt she could simply die at that moment would be an understatement. Death would have likely been too easy an easy escape, though the mind of a twelve year old may disagree with such logic.

A smile formed on Phil’s lips, as his heart felt warm for what he felt may have been the last time ever. There was something about this girl that made him feel needed, wanted… he would do his best for her if he had to, or take his own life if the command, less likely than lottery victory, were to arise! As much a need as it was, he wondered. Would she be safe…

There‘d be no more time for thinking! “Whee!” blurted the stable minded Jimmy as he opened the door. “Where’d my brother go?” wondered Chef Jimmy. It was odd. The scream indeed was in here. Where had that dangerous man gone? It was a question that needed answering. ‘I blame mom for his way.’ he sighed. Abused kids are not often known to be the most stable of adults.

Now it was Gina’s turn to lay eyes on the mirror image decked fully in chef gear. Facts remained though. This man had the same spiky black hair, the same Jimmy voice, and same Jimmy laugh, not to mention the power of the enthusiastic ‘Whee’ Going agape, her chin would have likely dropped all the way through to the other side of the planet had the laws of cartoon physics any say in the lore of reality.

“Look…” began Phil with a sigh. “I know what you think, but I can assure you, this isn’t him! We don’t honestly have time for the explanation again, got it?” he eyed Jimmy. Could he truly believe all this? Was this Pokemon Center not all it seemed? He without skepticism would rue this day. “But if it is… he’ll be sorry.” he sneered to make his point. ‘Why on earth did they seem to stall there?’ he eyed about as the nurse stepped in from the hallway at long last with a green little spider standing at her side, nervous and afraid.

Gina smiled at the little insect. It looked so timid and scared, natural when you stand beside many of the one species that dominates the food chain “Hello!” she said calmly. “Who’s Spinarak is this?” she wondered. “Is there something wrong with it?” she tilted her head like a pendulum in a clock, though slower, and more controlled between sways.

“It’s just fine.” the nurse smiled with fakery, before releasing the guise and glaring daggers the size of claymores at Phillip. “Though it does suffer from a case of dangerous, unstable trainer.” This woman of pink was glaring daggers at the boy.

Gina eyed Phil. “When did you catch your own Pokemon?” she wondered, more confused over the fact Phil already had a Pokemon. ‘He has no clue what he’s doing! How could he possibly have caught one before I could?!’ her eyes did well to hide such jealous competitiveness. After all, things truly would not become bad. Here was a boy who knew nothing about Pokemon. Perhaps it was a mere stroke of luck that let him attain the arachnid beast. “I mean…” she resumed, ready to ramble on endlessly, just like a woman would, but a clang of metal reminded that there was a nut job somewhere around here.

Phil sighed as he thought how he could explain this simply. “Let’s just say, I was ******, and the little runt caught me with my pants down!”

“Oh no! My precious kitchen!” the sane Jimmy gasped. That was the sound of clashing pans and dishes. “I hope he doesn’t find the pies I made!” he panicked as he ushered the lazy chatters before him to get a move on. “C’mon! Chimrax, we may need your help.” he exclaimed as a poke ball swiftly opened itself before him.

The sight before him was that of a lion… mostly. With blue fur and a mane of light orange around it like he true king of the jungle would want. However, this was no lion. Behind that mane of fur, necks seemed to sprout differently. On the right side, long white goat fur seemed to stray, with silvery horns upon its goat head. On the other side of its body seemed the most out of place head of all, a snakes! Yellowish green and with more scales than Beethoven’s work, it all opened at a beaklike snout. Its back legs seemed akin to those of the goats, hardened and indeed hooves of green. The front legs were those of the mighty lion. Upon its back though were wigs of yellow, with light pink undersides and a few clawed fingers. It was a dragon’s head, not a snake’s. Most different though was the tail. It was a simple red thing, adorned with spikes enough to make a porcupine jealous, and they were even scattered about more randomly as well. As large and deadly as it sounded, it didn’t stand any taller than Phil’s shoulders, and seemed quite lean as well.

The creature did not interest Phil in the least. “Please keep your hat on before it winds up missing!” Phil’s voice snapped bitterly at the man with the voice he had come o find synonymous with loathing! ‘Your head will share your hat’s fate if you don’t cork up that evil laughter!’ He sighed away his angry thoughts, knowing they would not just leave. They would return, and would be thrice as bad when they did. So be it, but he was damned to be sure that he would not let them get in the way here and now.

Scrambling like eggs, the Molson dashed for the door to the kitchen. As he opened it, all seemed quiet... too quiet! There was nobody in sight, and the only option of evasive doorways was that into the kitchen itself. After all, this was just the cafeteria. “Weenie in the HOLE!” came an irritably loud outburst, scaring a good half year off Phil’s life.

The sane adults present made a disgusted flinch, for many a sexual innuendo could be easily discovered in those freaky words.

“Jimmy!” yelled Phil, having not been in the mood for games since life stabbed him in his back and told him how much it hated him. Before he could react to anything, he was nailed! Bull’s-eyed quite effectively… with a pie. Of all things to be attacked with as a mess of gooey fruit, dairy and bread crust melded into one big pie face.

“It would be funny if it weren’t for the context of all of this.” sighed the sane Jimmy. It was just like in those movies, but Jimmy feared his head would be ripped off and digestive excretion would fill his headless body. It was only worsened by the animosity that the Molson boy held towards his accursed voice. It seems dessert was now ruined. If only there had been more lessons on playing with your food…

 

[Dilasc]

Every region has its own legends, and Kertonmel is no different. Soon, you shall be introduced to Kertonmel’s triad: the Oni beasts. Not yet though. For now, more story. Don’t forget to review already, seriously! It's a bit lonely!

Dust to Deceit

Chapter 8: Family Guys

In an instance, the world went white! A strong heavy stench lofted about… it smelled like blueberries, and a hint of lemon. In a slow, yet fluid, as well as dramatically slow, motion, Phillip Molson’s hands swept across his face, pulling away lumps of creamy white lemon icing, his bloodshot eyes red with fury as they were removed from their shroud of sugary sweets. Following the clearing of his eyes like underpaid windshield wipers on torrential rain spells, a finger rose to his mouth, the white mess gone as it left the digestive starting line. “Yick!” he cringed. “Lemon…” he murmured. It was bad. A blend of lemon and blueberries both that made him want to vomit enough to engulf the sun in spew. Ironic though how lemonade was good, but lemons were not.

Just because life is fun like a powerful bullet to the brain, another pie made its home upon the boy’s forehead and wavy hair. Unlike the first pie, his vision was left unhindered by creamy goodness. He snarled at this, dabbing his hand swiftly into the gooey mess in his hair. This time the creamy goo was pink. Like before, he decided to chow down. Strawberries… naturally. After all, pink was ALWAYS strawberry... or watermelon. Good to eat and all of that, but Phil was not in the mood. He hungered for something else.

Come to think about it, the bullet to the head was beginning to make Phil all warm inside. If not his head, then either of the Jimmy brothers would both would be fine choices for warm bloodletting. But the asinine pie thrower was far out of reach now. Needless to say, he’d call the fool jack-asinine, or maybe just to confuse himself even less, Jim-asinine. Sure, words can hurt, but then again, talk is cheaper than any item at the dollar store, and a wooden stick is always many times more effective than some vocal wind whoosh.

With the fears of life suddenly sapping away, Phil grabbed both pie tins and slammed them against the floor, creating a loud clang, and sending pink and white creamy goodness everywhere, from floor, to table, and even the ceilings. As for the pie tins, one was still in fine condition, the other seemed to bend inwards, as though it were shutting itself inward. “Well?” he yelled, loud and angry, “You guys wanna help stop this schmuck?” he glowered back. Though the door was closed behind him, it was safe to say, the burning in his eyes practically melted all barriers away, and a chill went up the spines of all sane beings who heard him.

It wasn’t even a second of hesitation before the door swiftly opened behind him. “Phillip, what happened?” asked Gina. It was as she ran in with the chaos of it all that she too was soon nailed with food for thrash. This time however, instead of the bright and sweet colorful treat that is pie, red seemed to dominate. A thick and chunky red, with white, chunky, and nearly mold, and flimsy yellow pieces of flat rectangles, frilled along the longer edges scattered about upon impact, smashing it all to the floor, while many small pieces of brown, seemingly meaty particles swarmed about the floor. Truth be known, as funny as it may look, getting hit by a fast moving piece of food hurts the spirit, while the metallic dish hurts wherever it smacks the unsuspecting victim. Gina looked about her as the food, whatever it was, made a mess of red and white in her hair. She felt as though she could cry.

“My Lasagna!” screamed the chef. “WWWH…” he caught himself as Phillip’s eyes threatened to melt the sun into three liters worth of ashes, which would also be melted, especially because ashes don’t form from melting, especially from a giant nuclear solar body like the sun.

He was not angry so to say, Phillip Molson was freaking ****** to be blunt! “Don’t SAY IT!” h roared in rage unconcerned with the fact that a three headed beast, both lion and serpentine seemed to have their eyes on the boy as the beast stood loyally and obediently by its master like a protective dog.

“My brother found the lasagna! Oh no!” Chef Jimmy was in panicked fearful frenzy. All his ‘oh so time consuming to make unto grand perfection’ dishes were being thrown away… or rather, thrown at people, instead of being eaten by them. He took great pride in the dishes he cooked. PRIDE... all gone to waste.

Actually, it wasn’t going to total waste, as an ever afraid of losing its limbs Spinirak scuttled in on its luckily still present legs. With a slight sniff at a pink clump of strawberry slop on the floor, dabbed with a tad of marinara sauce, and pieces of lasagna beef, the spider’s nasal capacity concluded one thing: Food, Hungry, Smell Good! Well, so MAYBE it was three things. Regardless, the little spider’s thorax began to rumble in desperate need, the noise was almost cute, a pint sized version of a human stomach churn when food was needed en masse. Cautiously, the creature’s pincers began to shovel in globs of pink, the taste of strawberry, new and incredible, was much enjoyed by the little spider as it cheered its name in joy, tasting the pieces of meat and enjoying them too. Even the sauce tasted great! It was a… perfect meal… well, at least for an empty stomach, and furthermore it was new. Never before had the yellow-green arachnid feasted upon tomatoes before, let alone a saucy entrée.

Such a shame that taskmaster Phillip did not think this was a good time for a picnic, and leaving not much food to be cleared from the floor, his arm lashed swiftly at the spider, grabbing its thorax in a tight gripping squeeze in the pal of his hand. As he spoke to it, his voice sounded eerily happy, though his unstable shaking made it seem like he were a clockwork robot ready to go Ka-Boom. “Hello there.” He sounded as though he was extra happy, his voice softer than a machete through hot butter, but lighter than helium… and it likely meant life was out to get him egged on yet again. “Are you enjoying the nice food?” his grasp was tight. Though his arm hardly had the size to grasp the spider’s width in the fullest, it did do its job of being a firm grip. The arachnid, of course, was terrified beyond death. It hardly moved a muscle, not even to breathe, fearing so much that its end may have been nigh. “Well, how about some heartwarming love?” his faux cheer illuminated as he continued to speak. Swiftly, his other hand grasped tightly around the creature’s tiny neck. Had the power of squeeze, he’d likely have ripped the creature’s segmented body apart right then. His voice suddenly became sweeter, as though the pie had lunged in and merged with his voice box “If you ever want to make it to tomorrow, you will stop being a lazy, useless waste of exoskeleton! If you can’t stomach the pain, I’ll rip your stomach out.” his voice, though rasping, was still lighter than the tiniest, lightest hummingbird feather.

The poor spider was beyond paralyzed in pure terrified horror. Oh how it yearned for the simple life. At least the birds and beasts that threaten to eat your corpse don’t have much in the way of psychological warfare. Out there, its merely the way and circle of life, but here, the gleam of disaster was radiantly present in the human’s eyes. Perhaps this is why humans were said to be feared, or so the chitin covered creature was beginning to believe. This boy made him jump out of his exoskeleton thrice over in but a half and hour, and thrice more before that half an hour ended would it indeed bounce in and out of its hardened arachnid skin rest assured.

All eyes were on Phillip, wide and likely scared to death. “Now, lets go and shred that cretin Jimmy limb from limb and laugh at him as he dies, and if you don’t make yourself useful, your fate shall mirror his!” his voice was still dripping of honey and maple syrupy sweetness. “Have I made myself clear?” his cheery voice remained. Without a second thought in its primitive mind, the Spinirak nodded as best it could, considering the choke hold upon its breathing capacity. “Good!” his voice sounded five pitches too high and girly, as though he was freaking out. “Now I’m going to give you a chance to prove yourself useful.” his voice dripped exaggerated happiness like a waterfall off the edge of the earth.

“Phillip!” cracked a shocked, feminine voice from behind him. In a snap, he swiftly shifted his eyes to the source of objection, all so suddenly wishing he hadn’t. It was Gina. The green haired girl he’d never betray heard EVERYTHING! She heard every disturbing sound, saw every insane eye twitch, witnessed every violent act of verbal abuse. The extreme amount of shock on her face shown was almost impeccably noticeable.

Phil suddenly wanted to curse the day he was born, as he snapped back to reality. He felt like a large jagged rock had been clear plunged upwards through his bowels up into and through his brain, except he was still alive, and remained awake through every excruciating moment of what felt should suddenly be the last seconds of his life, as his face paled, seconds later reddened by a panicked rush of blood to his head.

As he tried to speak, the words he said strangled his neck, making him incapable of spewing anything but choked gasps and incoherent words from his mouth. He wanted to just lay down now as many pairs of eyes were focused heavily upon him. “I…” he gasped as he caught a breath, panicked, desperately wracking his brain for a most plausible excuse, but none to be found.

Her eyes blinked nervously, aghast as she spoke again. “Phillip! Let the poor thing breathe!” her voice was demanding. She had every right to be too, considering the strangling situation. Phil had not even thought of releasing his tightened grip from the poor little creature’s delicate spidery neck.

As Phil absorbed her retort, he wanted to jump to the moon and be just as light as if he were really there. All that worry, all that blood rush it was for nothing! He wanted to melt softly like a stick of butter in between the cracks in the floor and be one with the earth, just because such a thought was really, really offbeat, in a hippie sort of way. Yet all this time, his firm choke hardly loosened from the spider’s neck. It was now only that he even realized it. “Oh, right!” he nodded, not really caring if the little critter turned into a glob of bug juice or insect blood, as he released the spider, only to let it drop roughly to the floor as it panted heavily for the sweet mercy of fresh breathable sweet air as its rear end kissed the ground with a soft thud as it then landed upside down.

Panic, and struggling overflowed through the spidery beast as it squealed its name in pained shrieks. Today began the first day of the Spinirak’s ruined life, and it seemed to be starting off with a bang.

Jimmy’s pokemon was apparently bored. Well, it didn’t exactly have the greatest of attention spans. The dragon head was a slippery serpent though as it slowly slithered through the air above and around to the other side of he lion, a smirk upon its scaly lips as it gave the lion a slight poke on the shoulder, and quickly retracted before anyone could notice. Its mischievous deed had been done. The result was a bickering between the goat and the lion as they chanted the same name back and forth, both in very different tones.

Chef Jimmy meanwhile looked ready to have a good old conniption as he raised his voice. “My brother’s gonna ruin my kitchen!” he whined like a little girl, the stretch of the situation of a mere kitchen at risk seemed to be a top priority in the human’s crazy mind.

Phil of course, felt like complete crap, and all who had dare try and irritate him would feel the same way, so he would deem the order of the universe! “Fine…” he sighed. He hated Jimmy’s guts! He quickly sent his eyes to stare back at Gina. Her eyes were pure and caring. Deep pools of soft brown that he felt could never betray him. ‘Yet I’ve already betrayed her! She doesn’t deserve a person like me!’ he frowned. “Uh, Gina…” he gulped “About all you just heard…” he stammered. How could he continue to dare try and tell lies. It was time to use some honesty!

“Not now Phillip!” she quickly interrupted, as a misaimed dish filled with lasagna smashed violently against the wall. The ceramic plate shattered into many sharp pieces as a smudge of oranges, reds and yellows stained the wall. There he was, the ring headed maniac was behind the cafeteria counter, and beyond him were many dishes and trays. “We’ll discuss this later!” she retorted quickly and firmly. When she spoke like that, you KNEW she was going to live up to it.

“We have to restrain my brother now!” he was frantic “WHEE!” the fearful chef then blurted, graced by luck that Phil was too deep in his own world to care about the words he hates oh so much. “Joy’s calling the authorities as we speak!” he added, just for reassurance.

This mere mentioning caught Phil’s attention. “You’re sending him to JAIL?” he yelled in anger.

“No! We’re sending him to the tropical island country of Cubara, where he forever be plagued by Communism!” It was beyond obvious that sarcasm gushed from hi words like a powerful geyser from the very earth itself, rolling from the chef’s drying lips.

Phil rolled his eyes at that. “Yes, and your sarcastic humor is so funny!” he added a little of his own just because. Suffice to say, if he had to hear WHEE or that accursed laugh much longer, then butcher knives would rain like hellfire upon all… Gina would be a victim that would likely lead to a depressive end for the Molson maniac! Regardless, there were reasons behind his curiosity. “Seriously though! Why send him to prison? The man’s insane! He’ll enjoy the place just because!” after all, if Jimmy made it out alive, then he wanted the boy to suffer where he could never torture another soul again. After all, prisoners, showers, and dropped bars of soap means there’s little more that needs to be said about how entertainment is found. But even other criminals were better people than Jimmy, or so he believed.

It was at this point that the sound of breaking ceramic once again was heard crashing against the wall. This plate, or so it seemed, was an empty one.

The chef released a sigh at this point. “Did you not say that this man killed your sister… and worse before he killed her? Well, that’s crime, and its very punishable by law.” He did have a point it would seem. Of course, how would you feel if you had to put the lock down on YOUR brother.

But the Molson wasn’t taken by it. “Send the man to an asylum! If he doesn’t die by my will, then let him live in shambles and as close to misery as a happy-go-lucky fool can be!” He held his fist clenched tightly, feeling the strangulation urges of wind pipe constriction overflowing his mind as his eyes wandered to the ground for a moment of thought, only to lay eyes upon a struggling spider, helpless on its back. Immobilized as it was, it felt oh so tempting to simply step on the creature’s soft underbelly and get rid of its miserable tarantulan presence once and for all!

That however was not going to happen. “Help the poor thing up!” yelled Gina as she pushed a small lock of verdant hair away from her smooth face. The sight of her could merely overwhelm Phillip if he stared too long into her brown eyes. “It’s okat there.” she smiled. Her words were not for Phil. Instead, they were for the helpless bug, flailing upside down on the floor in a conniption as her gentle touch reached out and slowly set the creature right side up.

As it was fixed, the spider wanted nothing more than to sink its fangs into the tiled floor and smooch the ground passionately for being able to remain alive as its many spidery eyes blinked as they gazed up at the green haired girl. Her voice was soft like a silk pillow, and just as comforting. This female human felt like the mother the arachnid never had because, well, technically the Spinirak species was never known as a species that usually meets their mother, except for the empty husk of an exoskeleton which is meant to be the creature’s first meal upon hatching. From litters of several in number, it’s a race to see who can get their fill of mother meat, and its every spider for themselves. Well, such was the old way of life.

It’s a bug eat bug world out there in the wilds. Somehow this change, despite the cruelty, was indeed safer, should the wrath of the Molson not be invoked upon his spidery self. Still, even animals love to mate, and not just for survival, but every living creature wants to have fun. Heck, that’s the fun of catching prey in the wild. The edible female Weedle capture can be much more than just a bittersweet meal. Suffice to say, such mating was possible. Yes, that female Weedle would sate the male’s urges as he’d have his way with it, then devour its raped husk to quell the rumbling in its tummy, the eggs it could lay would never come to be. Yes, that was a life of pleasure. Its gaze was blank at the human. This emotion… love, kinship… it was new. Before this captivity, it was either eat or be eaten, now its be hated and then eaten alive by the hatred, on the other hand, if you seem to survive the hatred, your luck is only rewarded with more hatred.

“Lets go now!” shouted the chef Jimmy. “If he finds my Eepeetuna casserole I will KILL him!” he clenched his fist, only to have Phillip suddenly staring him straight in the face.

“No!” his voice was firm, yet angry, hissing like a garden snake. “I will kill him! Me! Got it?” he meant it too. There was no doubt that Phillip Molson would let ring-faced Jimmy walk away alive.

Unfortunately, in his enraged frustration, meanings can be forgotten in the world of brotherly love. Therefore, such sayings between siblings like ‘I’m going to kill you!’ really mean ‘I love you, but its time for painful, brotherly noogies!’ “I didn’t really mean it like that.” the Chef sighed. Despite all odds, that psycho man in there was indeed of direct blood. “That man is my brother, you see… and I love him.” his head went downtrodden to the floor. “Do you know how painful it is to need to put down your own brother?” he asked, as tears threatened to roll down the cook’s eyes. “He may have desecrated your sister, but he’s still my brother, and despite the guilt on our family name, I still love him.”

In turn, this made Phillip begin to think as well. “Then…” ‘Hmm, I gotta make this sound good!’ he sighed as he spoke again. “Then perhaps you’d be doing him the biggest favor a brother ever could, and end his sorrow and misery?” Did he mean a word of that? Not at all, but whatever it takes to spill Jimmy’s blood to the last ounce, he would give up anything, even his own useless life if need be, and Phil was a performer at heart.

The chef’s eyes were practically about ready to turn into a flooded lake as his nose sniffled slightly as he furrowed his left brow. With a slight rubbing of the stubble on his chin and a elongated sigh, he spoke again. “I’ll consider it.” his voice was not in the least bit pleased, but neither was it in the least bit enraged, it was a harsh neutrality, the guilt of the loss of his brother would be hard indeed. ‘That kid already knows what its like. WHEE!’ his mind couldn’t let up a break as it forced a catch phrase into his mental notation. ‘I hope my loss does not turn me cold like him. Not for my sake, but for the sake of others… and the sake of love.’ His eyes shut as he tried to shut away mental images. To no avail however, as all that happened was the splashing of salty water upon the tiled floor. It was time to stop his half brother! The longer that was delayed, the less likely he could be dealt with. “Very well… lets just get to it!” he sighed yet again. He wasn’t willfully ready to undergo such an case, but now there was little choice.