Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ The Forgotten Son ❯ Boom ( Chapter 11 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Lebenoff was grim and silent as he took his seat at the desk, facing the commander-in-chief of the Mahogany police force. Above ground and outside chaos was loose, blue sea serpents ravaging the city. Lebenoff's meeting with the commander was not about these gyarados, however.
 
“As you know,” Lebenoff began, “Mahogany is in a great deal of trouble now. But what I have to say is also important and urgent.”
 
The chief cleared his throat.
 
“Yes, well… I'm sure you remember Mr. and Mrs. Merluzzi, correct?”
 
A grunt was his answer.
 
“Of course you would remember five years ago, when their children disappeared soon before Mr. Merluzzi himself vanished. And, of course, later became a major player in the Kanto-based mafia group, calling themselves team Rocket.”
 
Another grunt. The chief was now swaying back and forth, his arms crossed in annoyance. He was quite fed up with waiting for the point to come.
 
“Right, well, recently one of their boys- Luke- he's been spotted throughout Johto. Most recent news puts him very close to town… he may even be here in the city as we speak.
 
He displays the signs of extreme psychological breakdown. He's lived the last five years alone, soon after suffering the trauma of divorcing parents and the loss of his brother. Years of extreme depression, with no therapy or medication to help… officer, that boy is a ticking bomb, ready to explode.
 
And look at the boy's parents! His mother has had a history of psychological illness since her divorce and his father has a crime file that's bigger than Noah's ark. Any way you look at it, Luke Merluzzi is not somebody we want out and about.”
 
The officer gave Dr. Lebenoff a good long stare, raising an eyebrow after some time. “Mahogany is the greatest crisis it has ever faced in its history.” He stated plainly, “And yet you distract me with stories of a boy who may or may not be trouble?” His volume grew tremendously, his voice ringing with anger now.
 
“But sir,” Lebenoff said, grasping for attention, “That's not all! It can't be any coincidence that right after we see Luke around town the police find his mother unconscious in her home. Did you hear about that?”
 
The chief stood up from his chair, walking away without turning back. Lebenoff was left in his seat, staring forward at the empty space left by the officer, now feeling quite insulted. “He'll see.” Lebenoff said to himself bitterly, “That boy will probably set off a bomb and blow up this very building later today, and whose fault will it be? Not mine!”
 
***
 
Meanwhile, a pale boy with long black hair dressed in different dark shades of blue and black and followed by a treecko, wooper, and miltank made his way through the city in a dizzy whirl of emotion and bewilderment.
 
He was running from nothing in particular now, having just abandoned his newly evolved gyarados out of extreme confusion and terror. His mind was still too muddled to be thinking right; he needed a place to stop, to sit, to calm himself. But this was hard when the streets around him were packed with screaming people and giant blue dragons.
 
Out of the corner of his eye, Luke caught a head of long red hair, somebody who looked very familiar, but only in the moment he was visible. The boy with long red hair disappeared behind a building, his expression one of determination rather than fear. He was going somewhere, and he knew where it was.
 
The feeling of knowing where he was, so clear and focused… Luke wanted to be a part of that, wherever it would be. He took no hesitation in running after the red-haired boy, trailing him through the town. Finally, he found himself standing at the door to a small drugstore, the red haired boy having disappeared inside it just then. Luke stared up at it, his tired eyes trembling.
 
He then took a few firm steps forward, pushing open the glass doors and walking into the store. It was in total disarray, shelves knocked over and various herbs and goods spilled uncaringly on the floor. There stood red-hair, staring down a staircase leading somewhere deep underground.
 
“Hey!” Luke said to him. He turned and stared at Luke, his eyes cold and piercing.
 
“You again?” he said.
 
“Where are you going?”
 
“I'm following the trail of team rocket. They're behind this chaos.”
 
Luke, somehow, did not feel any surprise. He had a cold, empty feeling inside.
 
“And the next stop is Goldenrod,” red-hair continued, “We've seen a lot of rockets going that way too.”
 
“Can I help?” Luke said. His emptiness craved something to feed on; violence would do nicely.
 
“No.” The red-haired boy answered, “You'd just get in the way.”
 
He gave that a moment to sink in, and then after quickly surveying the three pokemon trailing Luke asked “Where did that old magikarp of mine go?”
 
“He evolved into a gyarados all of a sudden.” Luke said, “And then this guy came, shot it down… I… I was so confused, so scared…”
 
“So you ran away from it?” The red haired boy asked, his voice climbing into rage.
 
“Uh-“
 
“You… you're pathetic!” The red haired boy yelled out. “Floundering there hopelessly, not even worth pity. You make me sick. Learn some conviction!”
 
Something about those words grabbed Luke. They brought life back to his inner emptiness; angry and humiliated, Luke struck back.
 
“Woop!” he called out angrily, “Use mud bomb!”
 
Woop, his loyal blue water pokemon, leapt forward without hesitation, belching out a massive clump of mud that soared toward red-hair. But before it could hit, the boy had already released his own pokemon to counter-attack; a sneasel leapt out from its pokeball, slicing through the projectile with icy claws that froze it up as it shattered against the opposite wall.
 
Luke motioned to call out another attack, but sneasel intercepted his motion with a rain of sharp icicles that zipped across the room from its body, slashing at Woop. Ice shard had landed.
 
“Good—now follow that with some icy wind.”
 
As Woop stumbled from the last attacked sneasel released a cool breeze of air that flowed toward Woop. “He's trying to slow us down—stop that with mist!” Luke responded, and his wooper answered that call with a release of fine mist that mixed with in with the icy wind. The cold blast chilled wooper inside and out, but with its empowering Mist attack active it kept its strength.
 
Luke was getting better at this. Red-hair could tell immediately. And with his hesitation woop pulled off another passive attack, yawning. That yawn was induced with a power of suggestion that only a pokemon could use, almost supernatural; it was followed by a yawn from sneasel, who was suddenly very convinced of his drowsiness.
 
“Shake that off! Give it a good taunt!”
 
As sneasel beckoned to Woop, who suddenly grew enraged and charged at it, Luke answered his opponent; “Woop, slam it!”
 
Woop's brave charge at the sneasel was met with a speedy attack back. Sneasel's quick attack had managed to intercept Woop's initial charge. But now within range, wooper spun quickly, shifting its weight into its tail which slammed into sneasel, throwing the sharp-clawed pokemon back.
 
Sneasel managed to land on its feet, however, and while skidding back it got another command; “Push back! Slash it!” But as the black weasel pokemon began its charge forward again it began to droop, stumbling then collapsing in a drowsy slumber. Luke sneered. He was going to make the red-haired boy pay.
 
“Woop—use curse!”
 
Woop glanced back, nervous. Curse was not a fun move to use; it cost a lot of energy and often caused the user a good deal of pain.
 
“Woop—I said use curse! Do it!”
 
Filled with loyalty and determination once more, woop stared forward, releasing an inner power that sucked away its energy but boosted its strength. Already it could feel itself slowing down as its power grew. It stepped forward to attack, but Luke interrupted it.
 
“Woop… not yet! Use curse again!”
 
The red-haired boy's eyes flashed wide-open for an instant. This was more than a clear finishing off; Luke's aim was to punish him. And after a moment's hesitation the little blue wooper called deeper into its power, slowing down farther but strengthening even more. Now, truly, it was ready.
 
“No. One more time!” Luke called out, almost laughing.
 
Woop shuddered, but complied, its face a pained grimace as it gave its last bit of speed for all the power it could manage. A tackle attack from it could be lethal at this point.
 
But Luke had made a crucial error.
 
Sneasel finally awoke. And the red-haired boy didn't allow Luke even a second to call the last attack he needed.
 
“Sneasel, NOW! Use punishment!”
 
The black pokemon rushed at woop with all its speed, stretching its arm back in preparation for this next hit. “Woop, no! Don't let it do that! Finish it with a slam!”
 
But the loss of speed was too great. Woop had barely begun its spinning motion before sneasel reached it, slamming it with a punch boosted by dark type energy. The dark energy blasted into woop, feeding on all the power boosts woop had taken and hitting him with them all.
 
He was unconscious before he even began to go flying back, twirling through the air and into a wall.
 
“You really are pathetic.” The red-haired boy said. “You gave up your chance of victory so that you could punish me, but instead it was you who was punished. Are you using your pokemon to accommodate for your own tragic weakness?”
 
Luke opened his mouth to answer but the red-haired boy wouldn't hear it. With one last look at Luke he disappeared down the stairs with sneasel. Luke didn't move. There, in the cold emptiness of his body, the boy's earlier words were growing. “You're pathetic. Floundering there hopelessly, not even worth pity. You make me sick. Learn some conviction!”
 
Luke turned and walked out of the store. He began walking down the street, then running. The words of the red-haired boy became the words of his wooper, his treecko, the words of his mother, the words of his gyarados and the karate king and of all the people he passed as he ran. It was an unspoken truth. Those words swelled through him and seized his being. Something had snapped.
 
He reached the unconscious body of his gyarados, still lying there, untouched. He saw in it what he saw before; a monster that would attack even its own mother. And he realized now that the closeness he had felt with the frail magikarp was the same closeness he had with the mindless monster, and that had scared him. But now he didn't fear it. He welcomed it.
 
It began to stir.
 
“Get up.” He said to it. “I said, get up!”
 
It looked at him and had no idea who he was. He was totally unrecognizable from just a little while ago. His demeanor was no longer frail and weak, but it was no longer warm either; Luke's eyes and voice were icy, clear and sharp, like a sword.
 
“We're going to Goldenrod.” He declared. “I've been so stupid, wavering all my life. No more confusion anymore! I'm making right all my wrongs. Come on, gyarados. All of you. Come with me.”
 
The pokemon standing behind him exchanged glances, even the weak wooper in miltank's arms. They had always agreed humans are strange, but this one especially was just unbelievable, the way he teeter-tottered from emotion to emotion. But as he began walking away they all followed, all except miltank, who stood back for a moment before chasing after the rest. She knew just as the rest knew that something was horribly wrong.