Burnt Flower
Horror Mistress
Author's Notes: Yes, I have once again done the unthinkable: I have, yet again, posted a pruned one-shot...
Please forgive me. x_x
“A dollar, please? I haven’t eaten today…”
The faint, pleading cry wasn’t heard over the bustle of oblivious and ignorant people that could care less for the miserable teenage boy that lay hungry in a secluded corner. The black, trash-littered streets were the detested and unwanted home of Oliver, whose complexion was in the same battered and unkempt state that his city was in. He suffered daily, even to the point of having trouble breathing, because of the suffocating fumes that emanated from the sky. The gray sky had its depressing color because of all the heavy smoke obscuring the sun’s light; this was what Oliver hated the most about his foul city, for the rare sunlight was the only thing that helped him get through each grueling day.
The people, always in their eternal hurry to get towards their own destination, never even gave small Oliver a second glance. And those who did give him a fleeting stare, were the people Oliver loathed the most, since their gazes always held uncontainable pity.
What do these morons know? Oliver thought bitterly to himself, as a man in a business suit said under his breath “Poor boy…” They know nothing, that’s what they know! Never appreciating anything they have… He jealously stared at a little girl who was eating an enormous chocolate ice-cream cone and holding her mother’s hand.
The little girl, licking enthusiastically at her iced treat, didn’t pay attention to the road in front of her and fell forward onto the hard pavement. She began crying hysterically, not from her bruise but because of her fallen ice-cream cone. The concerned mother helped her up and consoled her daughter by telling her that she’d buy her another one.
“Can it also be bigger with vanilla on top, please momma?” the little girl pleaded annoyingly, tugging at her mother’s skirt and squealed delightedly when her mother nodded.
Oliver, watched all this exchange with utter disgust, even as both mother and daughter went away. Ungrateful idiots that never know what they have, he thought angrily, as he scooped the dirty and abandoned ice-cream from the pavement.
“Would die on the streets in under an hour,” he said to himself vehemently as he eagerly ate the ice-cream with his filthy hands. He had to, unfortunately, spit part of this sweet delicacy because of the grime that it had been covered in. He wiped his chocolate-covered hands with the back of his unwashed clothes, not caring that it left a large brown smudge on its yellowish surface.
He grabbed his rusted metal can that was beside him – another of the few possessions that he had – and resumed imploring people for some money. A gangly man, wearing all sorts of chains around his neck and skinny waist, sneered at Oliver when the boy asked him.
“Could you please give me a dollar, sir? I’m very hungry…” Oliver said politely, even though he stared with envy at all his gold chains. The ice-cream, as big as it had been, didn’t even fill half of the starving boy’s stomach, and still left him with an empty feeling. He shook his metal can and hoped that the man would be kind enough to give him some money.
“A dollar? Why, you lazy scumbag, you don’t even deserve the filth you wear!” the man grabbed him by the collar of his clothes and brought Oliver close to his skeletal face. Even though Oliver didn’t want to admit it, he was scared of the gangly, thin man in from of him. “So, you want some money, kid? Well, come and get it!” he shouted, then he wrenched the metal can from the surprised boy’s hand and threw it across the street. Oliver watched on helplessly as his precious coins scattered throughout all the ground, while people picked them up and slipped them inside their pockets without any traces of guilt.
The man ran away from Oliver laughing loudly and nobody stopped him as he got further and further away. A policeman, who had seen all this display with a curious eye, turned away as if he hadn’t watched it in the first place.
They’re all bastards… Every single one of them! Oliver thought with unsuppressed fury, and to his disgust, tears formed in the corner of his dull green eyes. He furiously wiped them away, worried that everyone would see his blatant weakness, and instead focused on getting his empty can back. He managed to find it behind a car’s tire along with a single silver coin, and then he placed it back in the can with a cheerful rattle.
“And who do I have to thanks for all this hell? My old man…” he said savagely, but also with some traces of sadness that he wanted to hide. His dad had died in a car crash three years ago, leaving Oliver alone with his forsaken self. He had been a good man who tried to raise Oliver the best way he could after his wife died. Oliver was a bit too young to remember most of her death, but he always swore to himself when he was in a pensive mood, that his dad had cradled his small body in his arms – distraught and grief-stricken while promising him that he would always take care of him.
“Well, he broke his promise, didn’t he…” he said with unconcealed resentment, while holding the slightly oxidized metal can close to his chest.
Oliver could see that nighttime was approaching, even through all the thick smoke. Soon, it would be too dangerous to ask for money and too cold to sleep on bare ground. Thankfully, the alley that was near his street was the safest place where he spent most of the nights in. He stood up and walked towards it, while trying to rub his numb hands and hold the crushed can at the same time.
At the end of it, there was a small, cardboard box that was deformed because of all the heavy rainfalls it had suffered. This was Oliver’s true home - a home that he hadn’t wanted in the first place but had no other choice but to live in it.
Oliver opened the folded flaps of the box to enter inside the moldy interior. There was barely any oxygen inside it but instead, a strong smell of rotting food greeted Oliver as he entered the box. He could only bear this lack of breathable air because of a small rupture at the side of the box; he usually pressed his nose to the small spot even if the air outside made his chest feel as if it were burning.
At one corner of the small, cramped space was a heavy blanket that he used to curl up in even if the heat made it unbearable to wear sometimes. The reason was that even beneath the musty smell it usually had, he could detect the faint scent of his long, lost home – a home that at times he thought that it had just been a sweet, forgotten dream.
Oliver wrapped himself around it and a small smile formed on his lips as he smelled the faded aroma of his father’s cologne. However, the happy feeling soon left him when his stomach rumbled loudly and reminded him of his current hunger. He took out a hand from the cocooned heat of the blanket, and, trembling lightly, found a piece of old bread on the floor.
Tearing the bread in half because part of it was a sickly, greenish color, he stuffed the bread in his watering mouth. It had a slightly sour taste to it, but he gulped it all down, not wanting to waste any food. Feeling worse off that he had been without the piece of bread, he tried not to focus on his still grumbling stomach, and instead went to close his box.
He was just about to shut himself from the outside world when a nearby light caught his attention. He turned his head upwards to see the lit window from the building that faced him. Light laughter, full of warmth, could be heard from the bright interior of the cheery home.
A wave of loneliness suddenly hit him and shattered his mask of complete obliviousness that he always showed to the world. His usual, quiet self started to break and he formed his hands into tight fists to control himself; the uncontrollable hopelessness and desperation wanted to be let out, and nothing, not even himself, could stop it.
He picked the other fungus-covered part of the bread, and with all his strength, flung it to the open window. He enjoyed the sudden shrieks that could be heard from it, and even felt a savage grin spread across his lips when the furious family came to the window.
“I hope that you’re enjoying your delicious dinner, because I sure as hell aren’t. So could you bastards do me a favor and… SHUT UP!” he shouted at them, and felt fierce happiness when he saw their outraged expressions.
The man went back inside, but surprisingly, the rest of the family stayed deathly quiet. The man appeared once again but with something that Oliver couldn’t see too clearly. He squinted his eyes, and could finally decipher what the man was holding with some horror; he wasn’t quick enough when the heavy load of trash came crashing onto his head.
“That’s what you get for ruining our dinner, you stinkin’ kid!” the man shouted, and with that, the rest of the family closed the window and went back inside the comfortable interior.
Oliver lay unmoving on the ground, the heap of trash still on top of his crumpled body. He shakily removed all of the smelly slime, and feeling oddly detached from everything, he went back inside his home.
Only to be face to face with the one thing that he least expected he would meet.
“Shuppet.”
With a strangled cry, Oliver went to the very back of the box in an attempt to escape from the strange being. It was a dark blue color, very small in size and seemed utterly defenseless, until he saw it had a very intimidating, pointy protuberance on the top of its head; but the thing that scared Oliver the most were the huge, unblinking eyes of the creature that seemed to stare into his own soul.
He lay shuddering in fear at the floating figure, trying to be as still and as calm as possible, but his heart seemed to beat erratically on its own will. The floating thing approached him, its smile growing wider as it came closer and closer to the scared boy. Oliver, disgusted at his own fear, couldn’t help but cower as the strange creature came even nearer to his small form.
“Shuppet?”
The large-eyed being watched him curiously through large, luminous eyes, while Oliver shielded his face from what he thought was an incoming attack. The creature eyed him even more attentively, and when it was just a mere inches from Oliver’s fear-stricken body – Oliver remembered.
“You’re a Poke…mos, or was it mun? Wait, oh, I remember – Pokemon!” Oliver said brightly, uncovering his hands away from his face. His old school had once mentioned creatures named ‘Pokemon’. Oliver had never met one personally until now, because the city’s condition was too harsh for any Pokemon to live in.
“And I think Pokemon usually repeated their names, so…you must be a Shuppet,” Oliver said with a smile, proud to remember some of the lessons his old teacher taught him.
Shuppet nodded vigorously, but without losing eye contact with Oliver. Even though he wasn’t scared of it anymore, he still felt an odd tingle in the back of his spine.
“Well, I guess you can leave now…” Oliver said softly, and made vague shooing motions with his hands. Shuppet didn’t even move at this, but instead, came closer to him.
“I said leave,” Oliver said firmly, his small smile totally absent from his smudged face.
“Shuppet.”
“Get the hell out of here!” Oliver yelled, and tried to forcefully push Shuppet away; his hand just passed through Shuppet’s apparently airy body.
“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Oliver roared at the top of his voice, but Shuppet stayed suspended in the same place.
Oliver’s harsh words echoed inside his head a thousand times, and the full meaning of it crashed down before him.
Alone.
All alone…
“Yeah, you heard me… Leave me alone just like the rest of them…” Oliver whispered and all of his previous anger towards Shuppet was gone. “They all left me here to rot – no, to die… And did they care? No,” he said his voice oddly high, and he tightened his fists in an attempt to control the words that were slowly coming out of his mouth.
“Shuppet?”
“You don’t understand! I had to leave my aunt’s house! They placed me there when dad died and she had the nerve to try to…to…” Oliver trailed off, not caring that he couldn’t understand what Shuppet really said – his mind was too jumbled up to care; he just needed to say it before he strayed away completely from sanity. A maniacal grin spread across his scrunched up face. “ ‘How are you? Want some more food, dear? I love you like a son, Oliver,’ the bitch always said. How dare she…HOW DARE SHE TRY TO REPLACE MY MOTHER!” Oliver bellowed, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, and he felt the desperation inside him increase tenfold until he felt that it overwhelmed his senses completely.
His wild eyes finally tore away from Shuppet’s and he stared at the floor. “Why, just look Shuppet…” Oliver said with the same frightening smile on his face, releasing the blanket from his grip. “…this is all I have left…” Oliver grinned with the same crazy smile from before, while scooping all the bread crumbs on the floor and showing it proudly to Shuppet. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he said lovingly, while his shoulders trembled, and without any other notice he sobbed loudly into his hands.
Shuppet didn’t move or made any sound while Oliver said any of this. When Oliver’s tears finally ceased, he stared at Shuppet with red eyes and a face full of wet crumbs that stuck to his face.
“I want it all, Shuppet…” he said lowly, yet with such firmness that it surprised even himself. Shuppet edged even closer to him, interested in Oliver’s words. “They have so much, and yet I have so little…” Oliver muttered with renewed anger. “And they never did anything to deserve it… I suffered more – so much more, and yet those damn people can have anything they want!” he growled, while punching one of the cardboard’s sides in frustration.
“Shuppet!”
Shuppet was ecstatic, and its small smile was even wider than before. It floated and came nearer to Oliver until it was by his side. Oliver tried to pat Shuppet’s head but his hand passed through it once more. Shuppet made a strange content noise that seemed as if it were purring.
“One day, Shuppet – one day, I’ll have it all… I hate them all – and they’ll be sorry that they have more than me…”
Years passed since the day Oliver confessed to Shuppet, but even though so much time has gone by since they first met, they stayed together through it all.
Oliver, though he hated his aunt with a passion, reluctantly had to go back to that place, for it was the first part of his plan. His aunt cried with happiness when she had seem him and scooped him up into her frail arms; Oliver had felt repulsed at this blatant display of affection, but he had to actually return the same sweet gestures – it was the most painful thing he had ever done.
As predicted, his aunt sent him almost immediately to school – Oliver hadn’t complained, in fact everything was going just as planned. He spent many horrible years in that detested school, but Oliver had Shuppet and the certainty that his plan will finally work in the near future.
After that, he had enrolled into a university, and though he had to suffer even more lonely years in that loathsome college, Oliver had still smiled. Soon – very soon…
One thing Oliver had found peculiar were the swarms of Shuppet that had stared at him between lessons. He usually spotted his Shuppet immediately, always smiling its eternal grin, among the masses, but he didn’t know why they always followed him.
All those years of sacrifice paid off. Having studied politics and gaining the people's foolish respect were two things that would make his plan all worthwhile, for he finally had the power to overrule them all.
And now here I am… Oliver thought with true happiness, inspecting the fruit of arduous years of labor.
He stood amongst the ruined remains of what once was the city that gave him hell. He never thought that the black smoke that was covering the faint light of the sun could give him such exhilaration – such power. The flaming fire that was destroying everything made him laugh, as he saw countless lives burn in their path. He picked up a handful of ashes, and breathed in deeply its charred smell – he finally had them.
Oliver stared at the distance all of the pitiful soldiers that were fighting – giving up their lives because he controlled their pathetic lives. He laughed when they screamed in agony and bled without anyone to care for them.
“Feel my pain…” Oliver whispered savagely as he saw a bomb going off at the distance.
The mass of black Shuppets that had been with him for so many years, trailed behind him and they all smiled in unison when they felt Oliver’s hatred.
“Sir, we finally caught the fugitives,” the general said, while several soldiers saluted him. He loved the fear in their eyes – they could never disobey, the dictator’s – Oliver’s, orders.
He turned around and his smile widened even more when he saw who it was. A woman, and alongside her, a young boy and girl were forced to move forward by gunpoint. The children were crying in their mom’s embrace, while she had her head buried in their light brown hair.
“Get that crap out of my sight,” Oliver said gruffly, signaling the little boy with his hand. “Let him rot with the rest of them,” Oliver smirked when he saw the little boy’s stricken face.
“Mommy! Please save me, mommy!” the little boy’s heartbreaking cries were heard even over the roaring fire, as he was led away.
The mother bawled and pleaded helplessly with one of the soldiers, but they paid her no attention. The little girl screamed desperately, “Daniel! Daniel!” when she heard his shrieks, until Oliver commanded the soldiers to bring her forward.
The little girl squirmed in their grasp and sobbed loudly when Oliver’s large hand touched her face. She trembled under Oliver’s intent gaze and tried to focus her eyes on the ash-covered ground.
Oliver, deranged and having long lost his sanity, said his next words in a revengeful whisper.
“I hope you liked your ice cream.”
And before she could say another word, Oliver punched her hard across her face. The little girl, slumped backwards into her frantic mother’s arms, a trail of blood sliding down her face.
The mother cradled her unconscious daughter, while she wailed uncontrollably into the night air. The soldiers grabbed her forcefully from her arms, while she thrashed vainly in an attempt to go back to her daughter.
When she lost her strength, she turned her haunted eyes upwards.
“Why, Oliver?” his aunt whispered, her tears streaming down her scratched face.
Oliver, amused at her words, took out his gun.
“Because you’re now mine,” he snarled and pushed the trigger.
The bullet ripped through her thin torso, splashing crimson blood all over her front. With a weak grunt, she fell on top of her immobile daughter, also covering her with more scarlet blood. The Shuppets cheered loudly and crowded around both mother and daughter.
“You may go,” Oliver said, dismissing the soldiers with a simple wave of his hand. They saluted rapidly and marched away from him.
The Shuppets, having already inspected the bodies curiously, went back again to Oliver’s side.
“Finally. Everything’s mine,” Oliver whispered and he spread his arms as though trying to show everyone his accomplishments. “The whole world is mine.”
He faintly heard the Shuppets’ murmuring to themselves behind him.
Oliver felt as if he could cry. He finally had everything he wanted – money, power, land, and the lives of the pathetic people that inhabited in them. He was a king – no, a god to all of those pathetic mortals. He was finally satisfied – what else did he want if he already had everything? He already had his revenge on all those damn fools that watched him in his misery; he took everything from them and they couldn’t do anything to stop him.
But most importantly...
He wasn’t lonely anymore.
Oliver felt tears of joy spring up in his green eyes and turned his gaze towards the Shuppets that helped him achieve his long-wanted goal. He was –
All alone.
And once again...
This story was based on this Pokedex entry:
SHUPPET is attracted by feelings of jealousy and vindictiveness. If someone develops strong feelings of vengeance, this POKEMON will appear in a swarm and line up beneath the eaves of that person’s home.
I swear I'm writing new stories! T_T
Please forgive me. x_x
Within One’s Reach
“A dollar, please? I haven’t eaten today…”
The faint, pleading cry wasn’t heard over the bustle of oblivious and ignorant people that could care less for the miserable teenage boy that lay hungry in a secluded corner. The black, trash-littered streets were the detested and unwanted home of Oliver, whose complexion was in the same battered and unkempt state that his city was in. He suffered daily, even to the point of having trouble breathing, because of the suffocating fumes that emanated from the sky. The gray sky had its depressing color because of all the heavy smoke obscuring the sun’s light; this was what Oliver hated the most about his foul city, for the rare sunlight was the only thing that helped him get through each grueling day.
The people, always in their eternal hurry to get towards their own destination, never even gave small Oliver a second glance. And those who did give him a fleeting stare, were the people Oliver loathed the most, since their gazes always held uncontainable pity.
What do these morons know? Oliver thought bitterly to himself, as a man in a business suit said under his breath “Poor boy…” They know nothing, that’s what they know! Never appreciating anything they have… He jealously stared at a little girl who was eating an enormous chocolate ice-cream cone and holding her mother’s hand.
The little girl, licking enthusiastically at her iced treat, didn’t pay attention to the road in front of her and fell forward onto the hard pavement. She began crying hysterically, not from her bruise but because of her fallen ice-cream cone. The concerned mother helped her up and consoled her daughter by telling her that she’d buy her another one.
“Can it also be bigger with vanilla on top, please momma?” the little girl pleaded annoyingly, tugging at her mother’s skirt and squealed delightedly when her mother nodded.
Oliver, watched all this exchange with utter disgust, even as both mother and daughter went away. Ungrateful idiots that never know what they have, he thought angrily, as he scooped the dirty and abandoned ice-cream from the pavement.
“Would die on the streets in under an hour,” he said to himself vehemently as he eagerly ate the ice-cream with his filthy hands. He had to, unfortunately, spit part of this sweet delicacy because of the grime that it had been covered in. He wiped his chocolate-covered hands with the back of his unwashed clothes, not caring that it left a large brown smudge on its yellowish surface.
He grabbed his rusted metal can that was beside him – another of the few possessions that he had – and resumed imploring people for some money. A gangly man, wearing all sorts of chains around his neck and skinny waist, sneered at Oliver when the boy asked him.
“Could you please give me a dollar, sir? I’m very hungry…” Oliver said politely, even though he stared with envy at all his gold chains. The ice-cream, as big as it had been, didn’t even fill half of the starving boy’s stomach, and still left him with an empty feeling. He shook his metal can and hoped that the man would be kind enough to give him some money.
“A dollar? Why, you lazy scumbag, you don’t even deserve the filth you wear!” the man grabbed him by the collar of his clothes and brought Oliver close to his skeletal face. Even though Oliver didn’t want to admit it, he was scared of the gangly, thin man in from of him. “So, you want some money, kid? Well, come and get it!” he shouted, then he wrenched the metal can from the surprised boy’s hand and threw it across the street. Oliver watched on helplessly as his precious coins scattered throughout all the ground, while people picked them up and slipped them inside their pockets without any traces of guilt.
The man ran away from Oliver laughing loudly and nobody stopped him as he got further and further away. A policeman, who had seen all this display with a curious eye, turned away as if he hadn’t watched it in the first place.
They’re all bastards… Every single one of them! Oliver thought with unsuppressed fury, and to his disgust, tears formed in the corner of his dull green eyes. He furiously wiped them away, worried that everyone would see his blatant weakness, and instead focused on getting his empty can back. He managed to find it behind a car’s tire along with a single silver coin, and then he placed it back in the can with a cheerful rattle.
“And who do I have to thanks for all this hell? My old man…” he said savagely, but also with some traces of sadness that he wanted to hide. His dad had died in a car crash three years ago, leaving Oliver alone with his forsaken self. He had been a good man who tried to raise Oliver the best way he could after his wife died. Oliver was a bit too young to remember most of her death, but he always swore to himself when he was in a pensive mood, that his dad had cradled his small body in his arms – distraught and grief-stricken while promising him that he would always take care of him.
“Well, he broke his promise, didn’t he…” he said with unconcealed resentment, while holding the slightly oxidized metal can close to his chest.
Oliver could see that nighttime was approaching, even through all the thick smoke. Soon, it would be too dangerous to ask for money and too cold to sleep on bare ground. Thankfully, the alley that was near his street was the safest place where he spent most of the nights in. He stood up and walked towards it, while trying to rub his numb hands and hold the crushed can at the same time.
At the end of it, there was a small, cardboard box that was deformed because of all the heavy rainfalls it had suffered. This was Oliver’s true home - a home that he hadn’t wanted in the first place but had no other choice but to live in it.
Oliver opened the folded flaps of the box to enter inside the moldy interior. There was barely any oxygen inside it but instead, a strong smell of rotting food greeted Oliver as he entered the box. He could only bear this lack of breathable air because of a small rupture at the side of the box; he usually pressed his nose to the small spot even if the air outside made his chest feel as if it were burning.
At one corner of the small, cramped space was a heavy blanket that he used to curl up in even if the heat made it unbearable to wear sometimes. The reason was that even beneath the musty smell it usually had, he could detect the faint scent of his long, lost home – a home that at times he thought that it had just been a sweet, forgotten dream.
Oliver wrapped himself around it and a small smile formed on his lips as he smelled the faded aroma of his father’s cologne. However, the happy feeling soon left him when his stomach rumbled loudly and reminded him of his current hunger. He took out a hand from the cocooned heat of the blanket, and, trembling lightly, found a piece of old bread on the floor.
Tearing the bread in half because part of it was a sickly, greenish color, he stuffed the bread in his watering mouth. It had a slightly sour taste to it, but he gulped it all down, not wanting to waste any food. Feeling worse off that he had been without the piece of bread, he tried not to focus on his still grumbling stomach, and instead went to close his box.
He was just about to shut himself from the outside world when a nearby light caught his attention. He turned his head upwards to see the lit window from the building that faced him. Light laughter, full of warmth, could be heard from the bright interior of the cheery home.
A wave of loneliness suddenly hit him and shattered his mask of complete obliviousness that he always showed to the world. His usual, quiet self started to break and he formed his hands into tight fists to control himself; the uncontrollable hopelessness and desperation wanted to be let out, and nothing, not even himself, could stop it.
He picked the other fungus-covered part of the bread, and with all his strength, flung it to the open window. He enjoyed the sudden shrieks that could be heard from it, and even felt a savage grin spread across his lips when the furious family came to the window.
“I hope that you’re enjoying your delicious dinner, because I sure as hell aren’t. So could you bastards do me a favor and… SHUT UP!” he shouted at them, and felt fierce happiness when he saw their outraged expressions.
The man went back inside, but surprisingly, the rest of the family stayed deathly quiet. The man appeared once again but with something that Oliver couldn’t see too clearly. He squinted his eyes, and could finally decipher what the man was holding with some horror; he wasn’t quick enough when the heavy load of trash came crashing onto his head.
“That’s what you get for ruining our dinner, you stinkin’ kid!” the man shouted, and with that, the rest of the family closed the window and went back inside the comfortable interior.
Oliver lay unmoving on the ground, the heap of trash still on top of his crumpled body. He shakily removed all of the smelly slime, and feeling oddly detached from everything, he went back inside his home.
Only to be face to face with the one thing that he least expected he would meet.
“Shuppet.”
With a strangled cry, Oliver went to the very back of the box in an attempt to escape from the strange being. It was a dark blue color, very small in size and seemed utterly defenseless, until he saw it had a very intimidating, pointy protuberance on the top of its head; but the thing that scared Oliver the most were the huge, unblinking eyes of the creature that seemed to stare into his own soul.
He lay shuddering in fear at the floating figure, trying to be as still and as calm as possible, but his heart seemed to beat erratically on its own will. The floating thing approached him, its smile growing wider as it came closer and closer to the scared boy. Oliver, disgusted at his own fear, couldn’t help but cower as the strange creature came even nearer to his small form.
“Shuppet?”
The large-eyed being watched him curiously through large, luminous eyes, while Oliver shielded his face from what he thought was an incoming attack. The creature eyed him even more attentively, and when it was just a mere inches from Oliver’s fear-stricken body – Oliver remembered.
“You’re a Poke…mos, or was it mun? Wait, oh, I remember – Pokemon!” Oliver said brightly, uncovering his hands away from his face. His old school had once mentioned creatures named ‘Pokemon’. Oliver had never met one personally until now, because the city’s condition was too harsh for any Pokemon to live in.
“And I think Pokemon usually repeated their names, so…you must be a Shuppet,” Oliver said with a smile, proud to remember some of the lessons his old teacher taught him.
Shuppet nodded vigorously, but without losing eye contact with Oliver. Even though he wasn’t scared of it anymore, he still felt an odd tingle in the back of his spine.
“Well, I guess you can leave now…” Oliver said softly, and made vague shooing motions with his hands. Shuppet didn’t even move at this, but instead, came closer to him.
“I said leave,” Oliver said firmly, his small smile totally absent from his smudged face.
“Shuppet.”
“Get the hell out of here!” Oliver yelled, and tried to forcefully push Shuppet away; his hand just passed through Shuppet’s apparently airy body.
“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Oliver roared at the top of his voice, but Shuppet stayed suspended in the same place.
Oliver’s harsh words echoed inside his head a thousand times, and the full meaning of it crashed down before him.
Alone.
All alone…
“Yeah, you heard me… Leave me alone just like the rest of them…” Oliver whispered and all of his previous anger towards Shuppet was gone. “They all left me here to rot – no, to die… And did they care? No,” he said his voice oddly high, and he tightened his fists in an attempt to control the words that were slowly coming out of his mouth.
“Shuppet?”
“You don’t understand! I had to leave my aunt’s house! They placed me there when dad died and she had the nerve to try to…to…” Oliver trailed off, not caring that he couldn’t understand what Shuppet really said – his mind was too jumbled up to care; he just needed to say it before he strayed away completely from sanity. A maniacal grin spread across his scrunched up face. “ ‘How are you? Want some more food, dear? I love you like a son, Oliver,’ the bitch always said. How dare she…HOW DARE SHE TRY TO REPLACE MY MOTHER!” Oliver bellowed, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, and he felt the desperation inside him increase tenfold until he felt that it overwhelmed his senses completely.
His wild eyes finally tore away from Shuppet’s and he stared at the floor. “Why, just look Shuppet…” Oliver said with the same frightening smile on his face, releasing the blanket from his grip. “…this is all I have left…” Oliver grinned with the same crazy smile from before, while scooping all the bread crumbs on the floor and showing it proudly to Shuppet. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he said lovingly, while his shoulders trembled, and without any other notice he sobbed loudly into his hands.
Shuppet didn’t move or made any sound while Oliver said any of this. When Oliver’s tears finally ceased, he stared at Shuppet with red eyes and a face full of wet crumbs that stuck to his face.
“I want it all, Shuppet…” he said lowly, yet with such firmness that it surprised even himself. Shuppet edged even closer to him, interested in Oliver’s words. “They have so much, and yet I have so little…” Oliver muttered with renewed anger. “And they never did anything to deserve it… I suffered more – so much more, and yet those damn people can have anything they want!” he growled, while punching one of the cardboard’s sides in frustration.
“Shuppet!”
Shuppet was ecstatic, and its small smile was even wider than before. It floated and came nearer to Oliver until it was by his side. Oliver tried to pat Shuppet’s head but his hand passed through it once more. Shuppet made a strange content noise that seemed as if it were purring.
“One day, Shuppet – one day, I’ll have it all… I hate them all – and they’ll be sorry that they have more than me…”
***
Years passed since the day Oliver confessed to Shuppet, but even though so much time has gone by since they first met, they stayed together through it all.
Oliver, though he hated his aunt with a passion, reluctantly had to go back to that place, for it was the first part of his plan. His aunt cried with happiness when she had seem him and scooped him up into her frail arms; Oliver had felt repulsed at this blatant display of affection, but he had to actually return the same sweet gestures – it was the most painful thing he had ever done.
As predicted, his aunt sent him almost immediately to school – Oliver hadn’t complained, in fact everything was going just as planned. He spent many horrible years in that detested school, but Oliver had Shuppet and the certainty that his plan will finally work in the near future.
After that, he had enrolled into a university, and though he had to suffer even more lonely years in that loathsome college, Oliver had still smiled. Soon – very soon…
One thing Oliver had found peculiar were the swarms of Shuppet that had stared at him between lessons. He usually spotted his Shuppet immediately, always smiling its eternal grin, among the masses, but he didn’t know why they always followed him.
All those years of sacrifice paid off. Having studied politics and gaining the people's foolish respect were two things that would make his plan all worthwhile, for he finally had the power to overrule them all.
And now here I am… Oliver thought with true happiness, inspecting the fruit of arduous years of labor.
He stood amongst the ruined remains of what once was the city that gave him hell. He never thought that the black smoke that was covering the faint light of the sun could give him such exhilaration – such power. The flaming fire that was destroying everything made him laugh, as he saw countless lives burn in their path. He picked up a handful of ashes, and breathed in deeply its charred smell – he finally had them.
Oliver stared at the distance all of the pitiful soldiers that were fighting – giving up their lives because he controlled their pathetic lives. He laughed when they screamed in agony and bled without anyone to care for them.
“Feel my pain…” Oliver whispered savagely as he saw a bomb going off at the distance.
The mass of black Shuppets that had been with him for so many years, trailed behind him and they all smiled in unison when they felt Oliver’s hatred.
“Sir, we finally caught the fugitives,” the general said, while several soldiers saluted him. He loved the fear in their eyes – they could never disobey, the dictator’s – Oliver’s, orders.
He turned around and his smile widened even more when he saw who it was. A woman, and alongside her, a young boy and girl were forced to move forward by gunpoint. The children were crying in their mom’s embrace, while she had her head buried in their light brown hair.
“Get that crap out of my sight,” Oliver said gruffly, signaling the little boy with his hand. “Let him rot with the rest of them,” Oliver smirked when he saw the little boy’s stricken face.
“Mommy! Please save me, mommy!” the little boy’s heartbreaking cries were heard even over the roaring fire, as he was led away.
The mother bawled and pleaded helplessly with one of the soldiers, but they paid her no attention. The little girl screamed desperately, “Daniel! Daniel!” when she heard his shrieks, until Oliver commanded the soldiers to bring her forward.
The little girl squirmed in their grasp and sobbed loudly when Oliver’s large hand touched her face. She trembled under Oliver’s intent gaze and tried to focus her eyes on the ash-covered ground.
Oliver, deranged and having long lost his sanity, said his next words in a revengeful whisper.
“I hope you liked your ice cream.”
And before she could say another word, Oliver punched her hard across her face. The little girl, slumped backwards into her frantic mother’s arms, a trail of blood sliding down her face.
The mother cradled her unconscious daughter, while she wailed uncontrollably into the night air. The soldiers grabbed her forcefully from her arms, while she thrashed vainly in an attempt to go back to her daughter.
When she lost her strength, she turned her haunted eyes upwards.
“Why, Oliver?” his aunt whispered, her tears streaming down her scratched face.
Oliver, amused at her words, took out his gun.
“Because you’re now mine,” he snarled and pushed the trigger.
The bullet ripped through her thin torso, splashing crimson blood all over her front. With a weak grunt, she fell on top of her immobile daughter, also covering her with more scarlet blood. The Shuppets cheered loudly and crowded around both mother and daughter.
“You may go,” Oliver said, dismissing the soldiers with a simple wave of his hand. They saluted rapidly and marched away from him.
The Shuppets, having already inspected the bodies curiously, went back again to Oliver’s side.
“Finally. Everything’s mine,” Oliver whispered and he spread his arms as though trying to show everyone his accomplishments. “The whole world is mine.”
He faintly heard the Shuppets’ murmuring to themselves behind him.
Oliver felt as if he could cry. He finally had everything he wanted – money, power, land, and the lives of the pathetic people that inhabited in them. He was a king – no, a god to all of those pathetic mortals. He was finally satisfied – what else did he want if he already had everything? He already had his revenge on all those damn fools that watched him in his misery; he took everything from them and they couldn’t do anything to stop him.
But most importantly...
He wasn’t lonely anymore.
Oliver felt tears of joy spring up in his green eyes and turned his gaze towards the Shuppets that helped him achieve his long-wanted goal. He was –
All alone.
********
And once again...
This story was based on this Pokedex entry:
SHUPPET is attracted by feelings of jealousy and vindictiveness. If someone develops strong feelings of vengeance, this POKEMON will appear in a swarm and line up beneath the eaves of that person’s home.
I swear I'm writing new stories! T_T
