CHeSHiRe-CaT
A Curious Breed
Pokémon Exsisto (Rated PG-13)+[Reposted/Revised]
Table of Contents
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Prologue: Diaboli Quiritatio (Scream of the Devil)
Chapter I: Fatum Plena Vesper (Evening of Fate)
Chapter II: Ymber Procella (Storm of Torrents)
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Snidely figures slinked off into the darkness of the corridors. Rhythmic waves of light passing through the surface of the water into the subterranean fort wobbled on the cold, steel floor of the room. Furious tapping and crunching of keyboard combos was aloof in the air, and precision was etched into every desperate face of the scientists basking in the streaming glow of computer monitors. A square-shouldered man in a tuxedo strode in the shadows of the main branch in the facility, glaring over sweating employees’ shoulders to analyze and criticize the progress of the project.
Hmm, yes. Those were quite the beauties winking back at him on the monitor screen. The cute curve of their bodies…just what Nebley needed to put a trot in his giddy-up. For hours, he had been working on the simulation for the installation of anti-dimensional grids, tossing his personal affairs out of the window at the request of the head manager. Now he was staring and grinning at the lovely display Tiffany, Yolanda, and Jamie were putting on for him in the beach pictures that were alit in front of his acne-covered face. He had been to the site a few times before when his wife could not satisfy him. He even felt the need to renew his subscription…instead of doing his job.
Just as Nebley was sheepishly drifting into Porno Land, a black silhouette stepped down the aisle that led to his workstation. The footsteps…he recognized them immediately, nervously darting his eyes behind the frames upon his hooked nose, while zooming his mouse with catlike reflexes to close the windows he had open. It was then that he realized he had opened far too many photos of Yolanda spread on the sand, just as a looming presence entered the atmosphere. His face became hot and expressionless.
The manager took a deep breath of solid anger, and then thrust his hand around the scientist’s neck. Nebley released a gurgling a noise as his Adam’s apple attempted to move upward to swallow, clenched in the other man’s furious grip. He choked in agony, just as the chief’s fist hardened, and his fingers twitched horrendously toward the mouse in the pointless hope of closing the windows. It was no use, of course. The boss twisted his knuckled hand around, jerking the scientist’s body out of the rolling desk chair and knocking it off into a corner. Several of the scientists had stopped working to watch this scene of violence, while others continued pecking feverishly in fear of being targeted next.
The dark man pulled the scientist to face him, his hand still firmly clamped around his neck. The scientist’s face was becoming red and distorted, just as the other man lifted him off of the ground.
“I do not pay my researchers to become erect, Mr. Nebley,” the boss whispered harshly, his thick, Italian accent smearing his cruelty all over Nebley. “I pay them to do my bidding, and if this rocket launching project is to be a success, I don’t need failures.”
“BUT…SIR…” the scientist choked in a Swedish tongue, “…FORGIVE…ME…I WILL…CONTINUE…WORKING…”
“Ah, but you’ve already betrayed my expectations of you,” the Italian fiend barked, sweat from Nebley’s neck dripping onto his boss’ fist. “I don’t tolerate backstabbers, Mr. Nebley, and I don’t intend to keep one in this room.”
Suddenly, the man growled something under his breath into a microphone attached to his coat collar. Not a moment afterward, as he still held Nebley in his reach, a pounding of boots came bolting from the corridors. The scientist shook his head miserably in anguish, wriggling in the grip of his superior. In his peripheral vision, he could see them. The devious black bowler caps and the two uniformed soldiers marching steadily from the tunnel to the higher floor. He closed his eyes, dormant fear burning in his veins as the footsteps progressed.
It was only a matter of time before he heard the two men stamp firmly a few feet away, and in a moment, his throat was released, allowing a wave of euphoric despair to pound in his head. Then, he was heaved up underneath his arms.
Nebley shrieked, his voice hoarse and sputtery as the soldiers gave no mercy in dragging him into the tunnel, which was lit dimly by a pale, fluorescent light. Apparently there was a struggle, as the scientist helplessly tried to overwhelm them, but out of view of the work area, they took him into the hallway, where their silhouettes were cast darkly on the walls. Then, at once, the soldiers snapped whips from their sides and began beating the scientist, slashing at his face and body, causing him to exhaust blood-curdling screams. The crack of the whip snapped brutally, and sent a chill up each individual’s spine in the vicinity, with the exception of the advisor.
The soldiers lifted Nebley’s limp body upward, and resumed through the chamber, dragging him along. Around the corner, small droplets of his blood had sloped down from the hall. Every scientist stared at the tunnel with undeniable fear, and the bone-chilling consequences of similar actions. They did not say one word, and resumed to work once again. The boss grinned in content once more. He tossed a finger at one of the scientists sitting on the left subsection, a woman with dark, brunette hair.
“Dr. Keyes, what is our progress on the missile status?” he asked impatiently.
“The missile is complete and is currently in the combustion chamber to see if it can withstand friction of the atmosphere, and all other anti-dimensional grids have been simulated, tested, and approved to be placed inside the hull of the body,” she replied, tapping at the keys calmly.
“Excellent,” said the man, grinning as he turned to the tunnel. “Once this rocket has taken off, you won’t be far from doing so yourself in ranking.”
“I’m honored, sir,” she said breathlessly. “But…what about…?”
She pointed to the pool of blood collecting from the tributaries sliding down the ramp in the hall. He glared at the sight with a disenchanted hatred. Then, his mind quickly reformed to the task lying ahead. He turned to Lily, who peered up at him softly.
“Call the janitor in. It seems we have a rat problem.”
Pokémon Exsisto
t h i s • f i c t i o n • i s • s e t • in • t h e • r e a l • w o r l d
What if Pokémon Were Real?
When an abnormal storm
arrives in the Machida district
of Tokyo, Satoshi Tajiri has nothing
more on his mind then ending his life as a
pseudo-Christian and his juvenile habit
of collecting insects. But when the
hurricane erupts into something
far greater than his own self,
he becomes part of a destined
chase around the world to stop
an evil organization from rising to
power, and to show the world the
true nature of the creatures shooting
from the sky.
This is Exsisto.
This Fan-Fiction is rated PG-13 for Violence,
Controversial Themes, Mild Language, and
Mild Blood/Gore. It is intended for the
reading pleasure of members on this
forum, and is in no way to be
copied without permission and
credit. The following is a chapter
index soon to contain/containing links to
the proper pages for each chapter. Each chapter
is written in Latin for the theme of the story, and their
English-translated meaning can be found right next to the
Latin title. Chapters will be updated frequently every three or
so days. I don't have a PM notification list; that's what subscribing
is for
Enjoy your read!
t h i s • f i c t i o n • i s • s e t • in • t h e • r e a l • w o r l d
What if Pokémon Were Real?
When an abnormal storm
arrives in the Machida district
of Tokyo, Satoshi Tajiri has nothing
more on his mind then ending his life as a
pseudo-Christian and his juvenile habit
of collecting insects. But when the
hurricane erupts into something
far greater than his own self,
he becomes part of a destined
chase around the world to stop
an evil organization from rising to
power, and to show the world the
true nature of the creatures shooting
from the sky.
This is Exsisto.
This Fan-Fiction is rated PG-13 for Violence,
Controversial Themes, Mild Language, and
Mild Blood/Gore. It is intended for the
reading pleasure of members on this
forum, and is in no way to be
copied without permission and
credit. The following is a chapter
index soon to contain/containing links to
the proper pages for each chapter. Each chapter
is written in Latin for the theme of the story, and their
English-translated meaning can be found right next to the
Latin title. Chapters will be updated frequently every three or
so days. I don't have a PM notification list; that's what subscribing
is for
Enjoy your read!Table of Contents
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Prologue: Diaboli Quiritatio (Scream of the Devil)
Chapter I: Fatum Plena Vesper (Evening of Fate)
Chapter II: Ymber Procella (Storm of Torrents)
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Prologue: Diaboli Quiritatio
Snidely figures slinked off into the darkness of the corridors. Rhythmic waves of light passing through the surface of the water into the subterranean fort wobbled on the cold, steel floor of the room. Furious tapping and crunching of keyboard combos was aloof in the air, and precision was etched into every desperate face of the scientists basking in the streaming glow of computer monitors. A square-shouldered man in a tuxedo strode in the shadows of the main branch in the facility, glaring over sweating employees’ shoulders to analyze and criticize the progress of the project.
Hmm, yes. Those were quite the beauties winking back at him on the monitor screen. The cute curve of their bodies…just what Nebley needed to put a trot in his giddy-up. For hours, he had been working on the simulation for the installation of anti-dimensional grids, tossing his personal affairs out of the window at the request of the head manager. Now he was staring and grinning at the lovely display Tiffany, Yolanda, and Jamie were putting on for him in the beach pictures that were alit in front of his acne-covered face. He had been to the site a few times before when his wife could not satisfy him. He even felt the need to renew his subscription…instead of doing his job.
Just as Nebley was sheepishly drifting into Porno Land, a black silhouette stepped down the aisle that led to his workstation. The footsteps…he recognized them immediately, nervously darting his eyes behind the frames upon his hooked nose, while zooming his mouse with catlike reflexes to close the windows he had open. It was then that he realized he had opened far too many photos of Yolanda spread on the sand, just as a looming presence entered the atmosphere. His face became hot and expressionless.
The manager took a deep breath of solid anger, and then thrust his hand around the scientist’s neck. Nebley released a gurgling a noise as his Adam’s apple attempted to move upward to swallow, clenched in the other man’s furious grip. He choked in agony, just as the chief’s fist hardened, and his fingers twitched horrendously toward the mouse in the pointless hope of closing the windows. It was no use, of course. The boss twisted his knuckled hand around, jerking the scientist’s body out of the rolling desk chair and knocking it off into a corner. Several of the scientists had stopped working to watch this scene of violence, while others continued pecking feverishly in fear of being targeted next.
The dark man pulled the scientist to face him, his hand still firmly clamped around his neck. The scientist’s face was becoming red and distorted, just as the other man lifted him off of the ground.
“I do not pay my researchers to become erect, Mr. Nebley,” the boss whispered harshly, his thick, Italian accent smearing his cruelty all over Nebley. “I pay them to do my bidding, and if this rocket launching project is to be a success, I don’t need failures.”
“BUT…SIR…” the scientist choked in a Swedish tongue, “…FORGIVE…ME…I WILL…CONTINUE…WORKING…”
“Ah, but you’ve already betrayed my expectations of you,” the Italian fiend barked, sweat from Nebley’s neck dripping onto his boss’ fist. “I don’t tolerate backstabbers, Mr. Nebley, and I don’t intend to keep one in this room.”
Suddenly, the man growled something under his breath into a microphone attached to his coat collar. Not a moment afterward, as he still held Nebley in his reach, a pounding of boots came bolting from the corridors. The scientist shook his head miserably in anguish, wriggling in the grip of his superior. In his peripheral vision, he could see them. The devious black bowler caps and the two uniformed soldiers marching steadily from the tunnel to the higher floor. He closed his eyes, dormant fear burning in his veins as the footsteps progressed.
It was only a matter of time before he heard the two men stamp firmly a few feet away, and in a moment, his throat was released, allowing a wave of euphoric despair to pound in his head. Then, he was heaved up underneath his arms.
Nebley shrieked, his voice hoarse and sputtery as the soldiers gave no mercy in dragging him into the tunnel, which was lit dimly by a pale, fluorescent light. Apparently there was a struggle, as the scientist helplessly tried to overwhelm them, but out of view of the work area, they took him into the hallway, where their silhouettes were cast darkly on the walls. Then, at once, the soldiers snapped whips from their sides and began beating the scientist, slashing at his face and body, causing him to exhaust blood-curdling screams. The crack of the whip snapped brutally, and sent a chill up each individual’s spine in the vicinity, with the exception of the advisor.
The soldiers lifted Nebley’s limp body upward, and resumed through the chamber, dragging him along. Around the corner, small droplets of his blood had sloped down from the hall. Every scientist stared at the tunnel with undeniable fear, and the bone-chilling consequences of similar actions. They did not say one word, and resumed to work once again. The boss grinned in content once more. He tossed a finger at one of the scientists sitting on the left subsection, a woman with dark, brunette hair.
“Dr. Keyes, what is our progress on the missile status?” he asked impatiently.
“The missile is complete and is currently in the combustion chamber to see if it can withstand friction of the atmosphere, and all other anti-dimensional grids have been simulated, tested, and approved to be placed inside the hull of the body,” she replied, tapping at the keys calmly.
“Excellent,” said the man, grinning as he turned to the tunnel. “Once this rocket has taken off, you won’t be far from doing so yourself in ranking.”
“I’m honored, sir,” she said breathlessly. “But…what about…?”
She pointed to the pool of blood collecting from the tributaries sliding down the ramp in the hall. He glared at the sight with a disenchanted hatred. Then, his mind quickly reformed to the task lying ahead. He turned to Lily, who peered up at him softly.
“Call the janitor in. It seems we have a rat problem.”
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