• We're currently experiencing a minor issue with our email system preventing emails for new registrations and verifications going out. We're currently working to fix this
  • Be sure to join the discussion on our discord at: Discord.gg/serebii
  • If you're still waiting for the e-mail, be sure to check your junk/spam e-mail folders

The Yellow Delcatty [one-shot]



I have another one-shot to share with you all, I would rate it around the PG-14 mark, but it's not overly bad as to make the rating go up any higher than it already is.

More info will be displayed at the bottom of the post as revealing it here would make the read pointless, enjoy.

The Yellow Delcatty

Our story starts in the small beach town of Sandgem. The hero of our tale, one whom the story holds a significant amount of weight and levity, is currently combing the beach for sea-shells. A favoured pastime of his. The intricate searching and delicate know how, in which is a required prerequisite to be successful in such a task, was a big draw to the ten year old boy combing said beach.

This specific ten year old boy was a big lover of pokemon, perhaps more so than his peers and school chums, a fact which earned the boy in question a favourable amount of joking on his behalf. Being an only child and betrothed to affluent parents, the boy was indulged in his fancies of many pokemon friends. Living in the beach manor along with the boy, were a wide variety of pokemon such as Pidgey, Rattata, Shinx, Eevee, Plusle, and Houndour. And love them dearly did he, for there was nothing more pleasurable for the boy than to sit under a large Oak tree on a hot day while he caressed the fur; or down, of his pokemon pets.

This exaggerated personality quirk belonging to the boy strengthened, if such a love could strengthen it was not sure but upon some level strengthen it did, as he matured into a young man. A young man of such passion and spirit, it was not long before he found himself enamoured with a young lady of whom beauty irradiated like rays from the sun, but alas, it was not to be. When the young man found that this virtuous young women had struck one of the pets that the young man loved so dearly. A love even more than that of the young lady of beauty immeasurable. He prohibited her presence from his property and put forward a plan most pleasurable forthwith. He took upon a journey, to travel and to bond more closely with his favoured pets, for what friends are those who falter at the first sign of fear?

A few years went by and upon his return, journey successful, he brought back a wife; a wife of whose love of pokemon rivalled even that of the young man of whom this tale centres. Sensing this great love that connected them so, the wife sought upon the rarest and most magnificent pokemon to populate the beach manor of which the young man still called home. Soon, a vast variety of fantastic beasts filled the manor, from the rare and most mystical Dragonair to the humble and most demure Piloswine. And soon the house was alive with sound, a cacophony of creatures each playing their respective part in the orchestra.

And it was on a beach combing trip, of which the young man still partook, that he stumbled across a beast so divine – so beautiful, that the young man took no time in inspecting the mirage in front of him. What he found shocked him to the core, the creature – A Delcatty of the most golden variety, velvety soft fur of purple and saffron – with a bullet lodged in one of its front legs. Enraged, the young man picked up the Delcatty and ran to his wife, a noted physician in the area, for an examination.

Upon completion of the examination, and resultant surgery to remove the metallic intruder unto the cat's person, the Delcatty and the young man formed a bond, where the young man went, so did the Delcatty follow. It was quite the task for the young man to get the Delcatty to stay at the house when he went out.

And it stayed this way for many years.

But everyday in which the Delcatty shadowed the man, he felt himself growing more irritable, more moody and more distant. His loving demeanour had dropped and he had started to abuse the pets he had once cherished above all else, and even the wife of whose love now easily topped his. It was all he could do, not to strike the Delcatty who had accompanied him throughout the past few years, only pure force of will alone separated the back of his hand and the cat pokemon.

This... disease, for what else could such an affliction be known, upon the spirit and very character spread quickly to the very recesses of his mind, the foul viral plague crawling underneath his skin caused his anger to overflow once more. He had arrived back from town after a night of drinking – for what more alluring temptress is there? - and he believed that even the Delcatty wished not to stay in his presence; it attempted to flee, but before it could he grabbed it by the tail and held it aloft. It was in a panicked convulsion that the beast sunk it's claws into the skin upon his hand. It was as if a demon itself had rushed into the body of the man as he raged, its corrupting influence warping his mind, giving him the darkest of dark thoughts. Without an ounce of logic or rational thought, the man pulled a pen-knife out of his pocket, grasped the poor beast by the throat and deliberately cut one of the eyes from it's socket!

When reason returned to the mind of the man in the morning, he harboured a slight twinge of grief at the atrocity caused by his hand the night before in a drunken rage. The Creature – who showed his face only briefly that morning out of what could only be assumed was fright – had blood matted in his fur around the empty socket, which had healed up slightly, not that it took away from the ghoulish appearance it had been forced to bear. The man couldn't help feel a pang of remorse for his actions and what he had assigned the poor beast that's only crime was to love him too much. But this grievance soon turned to irritation, irritation that provided him a final push over the edge – the edge of a cliff called perverseness.

The man found the creature asleep in it's bed; one eye shut, the other hideously eternally open, brutal scarring ruining the once handsome face that he had loved a long time ago. However, he was here to consummate the original injury he had caused the poor brute. In cold blood, he slipped a noose around the cat's neck and hung it to a limb of the great Oak tree he had once sat under; - hung it with tears streaming from his eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at his heart; - hung it because he knew that it had loved him, and because he felt it had given him no reason of offence; - hung it because he knew that in so doing he was committing a sin – a deadly sin that would so jeopardize his immortal soul as to place it – if such a thing were possible – even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the most merciful and most terrible God.

That night, he awoke to the sound of flames. The room in which he slept was ablaze and it was all he could do to escape with his wife. It is an odd sensation; to watch ones worldly wealth erupting into flame, watching the cleansing of your entire life. The fire department were called and found only the ruin of a beach house, with one exception, one wall still stood. The wall was that of the downstairs bedroom where he slept, the very wall on which the headboard rested. And on this very wall; was the figure of a gigantic cat. A noose tied around it's neck. A crowd had gathered around the wall spouting words like “Weird!” and “Sensational!” words that annoyed the man, people rubbernecking at his despair, at his worst hour. His mind was racing, he was flying through countless possibilities of how such an apparition could appear on his wall without going near the fact that he had just killed a cat in the exact same way as the apparition depicted on the only wall standing of a large manor house destroyed by fire. “Simple!” he said aloud. Someone merely cut loose the cat from the tree – for it hadn't been hanging from the tree when he left the burning house – threw the cat through the window to his bedroom and the fire along with the release of chemicals from the cat's corpse must have imprinted a shadow – if you will – onto the wall in which the fire couldn't touch. Yes. He convinced himself that's what happened.

With little money left, the man was forced to rid himself of his pets and accommodate himself and his wife in a shabby two storey house in the lower class area of Sandgem. The man decided himself far too uppity to socialise with such people, and so kept himself to himself and never strayed too far from his door. His long suffering wife suggested he do something to keep himself busy, perhaps get another pet, one easily manageable and cheap to maintain.

The man walked around his past favourite haunts - the various pet shops of Sandgem – he dared to admit such a fact, the fact that he missed the poor cat that had irritated him so, had loved him so, had been killed at his hands. The man had looked at various pokemon, but he couldn't find a bond like the one he felt with the ones he had since childhood. This disappointment had lead him a new haunt; the pub, it was here that he saw a Delcatty stalking the bar, it was almost the exact same creature he had seen on the beach that day years previous, the creature was almost an exact double of that he had owned. Roughly the same size and colour, except for a most unusual splotch of purple upon the cats breast.

Quickly the man found the landlord and asked who owned the cat pokemon. “Dunno mate, jus' turned up this morning and refuses to leave.” he replied whilst drying a glass with a grimy rag. The man asked if he was able to take it home with him, the landlord agreed “As long as it doesn't come in 'ere again.” The man was overjoyed, for possibly the first time in many months now, the Delcatty seemed to respond to his voice and his touch. “Would you like to come with me?” asked the man, the cat mewed, “I'll take that as a yes shall I?”

When the man returned home that night, his wife was ready to chastise him for his lateness, but when she saw his smiling face and the Delcatty at his heels, she couldn't but smile also. “Guess what? I found a new friend.” His wife hadn't seen him happier, it actually excited her to see another so enthralled with affection, a sort of warming sensation not unlike porridge on a cold morn.

With much difficulty, the man and his wife got to sleep in their poorly made double bed, the weight of the cat in between them made it hard to move around and get comfortable. But sleep they did, but waking was uncomfortable for a completely different reason.

His wife awoke first, and it was her scream that woke him. The duvet around them was matted with crimson blood, the cat upon hearing this noise leapt to it's feet, and his wife screamed again. The cat's eye was missing from it's socket. This horrified the man to his very core, a cat of similar size shape and colour, and he wakes up to find it missing the same eye that he himself cut out of his previous pet. He tried to shake off the feeling but the blasted cat wouldn't leave him alone. Very quickly he was becoming angry again, the cat – whose prolonged presence caused him many times to trip over the beast – was becoming increasingly aware of his position around the house at all times. Just when he'd thought that he had given the creature the slip, it would appear seconds later at his heels. When he ventured out to shop, it would find a way to escape the house – after being locked in – and accost him in the aisles.

It was one time in the basement that it became to much for the man. He and his wife had heard an odd knocking sound in the basement and they went down to check what it could be, the cat obviously followed. The man took one step on the stairs and tripped on the beast stuck between his legs, he caught his footing, but his anger exploded out of him like a bullet from a gun. He grabbed a nearby axe and aimed a blow right for the beasts head. It would have connected to, were it not for the interruption of his wife knocking the cat out of the way and finding the axe blade crack open her skull and lodging in the brain, killing her instantly.

The man was shocked to be sure, he had killed his wife. Killed her because she valued the life of the cat over her own. Most other men would have grieved, but the man merely began thinking of ways to hide her body. Bury her in the garden? What if the neighbours see? Cut up her body and throw it in the garbage? What if someone finds out? Frantically he cast his eyes around the basement, he saw loose plastering on the wall, he had a plan. Taking up the axe again, he plunged it into the wall and a large section came away revealing a hollow space in the wall. The man picked up his wife and threw her corpse into the space and began the lengthy process of patching it back up.

When he finished and tidied up, the wall was unrecognisable from the rest of it, and there was no evidence that he had even made changes to it, no plaster on the floor, no tools laid out. Perfect, if he said so himself.

Two weeks went by and of course the presence, or lack there of, of his wife had been noticed and the police were informed. The police were taken on a tour of the house and the man assured them that his wife had fallen ill and had been taken to her relatives house to recuperate in peace. Happy, the police left and said they would return in a few days to check up on things.

“Free!” He exclaimed when the police officers were a fair distance away from the house. And the best thing was that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the wretched beast since the 'event' and this was great news for the man. For once in the past few years he was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. And for the next few days, still had he seen nothing of the Delcatty. Maybe it fled, he thought and left it at that.

The police did return and the man lead them again on a tour of the house, when they had reached the basement, and he had been alluded of any guilt he suddenly said “Come Gentleman, you must look at this wall, look how perfectly the plaster set. You must say it is an excellent job.” and he tapped the wall with a broom that lay by his hand. It was at that time that a most terrible – most horrible scream, a scream alike to that of intense pain rang throughout the small basement. The police officers stared at each other trying to assure it each other that the madness was shared, when they were best alleviated from shock they tore down the wall from whence the screaming originated, and were horrified to find the body of the man's wife lay stuffed into the wall cavity, the Delcatty sat on her head, screaming the scream.

"I had walled the monster up within the tomb!"


And to an explanation.

This was a recreation of the Edgar Allen Poe short story, 'The Black Cat' so you see the choice of title I went with. I also attempted to write it in a style rather similar to his own, I know I don't do it perfectly, even close but thats for fans of Poe to decide.

A very good example of 19th Century Horror is the short story this is based on, and in the actual story the ending (the actual last line in 'The Black Cat' is the one I used, so forgive me for the tense switch) is one very good and has that, wow that had a really good twist, feel to it. You should all go and read some of Poe's work, it's a big inspiration to my own.

I hope that answers a few questions some of you may have had.