High Mon, Low Life

The night city streets are slick with rain. Red breathes hard as he runs under the neon lights of the shopping district past the taxi cabs and the terrified night shoppers away from the creature that is pursuing him. Taking sharp turns he can see it out of the corner of his eyes: large and looking almost amoeba-like from a distance, a boiling lake of yellow bodies and wires under the dim street lights. Electricity crackles around it setting off car alarms.

Tired, his knees aching, Red turns into a back alley hoping the thing pursuing him will pass it by, at least a first. He needs some precious time to regroup. The AIs that control these aberrations are not known to be especially smart. If it doesn't miss it, he thinks, at least the fight won't attract as much attention here.

As Red stops for a moment to catch a breath in an long narrow passage he reminds himself to get revenge on whoever unleashed the despicable thing on him, professor's son or not. The creature is definitely his rival's style. He catches himself hoping the guy's dad wasn't involved. In a flash of nostalgia he recalls the old prof giving him his first Pokemon. It would be a pity to have to hurt him... The video payphone screens on the walls grin at him, trying to sell him Slowpoke tail snacks. Done reminiscing, he gets running again.

"--shit!" Another turn, and he sees the exit from the alley has been blocked with a tall fence topped with barbed wire -- probably to keep pokemon from the city in, but also to keep his kind out.

The beast that initially missed him pours into the alley. Payphones ring as it passes them by, advertisements on their screens jammed.

Red turns around and takes a good look at it: the yellow rat king. A cluster of Pikachus surgically joined together in a spider-like form, eyes looking in all directions, their brains connected with wiring and subject to the computer chip controlling them. "Pi-ki-ki-ki-ki-" the king screeches, its electronic voice stuttering. He wonders if his bastard of a rival is watching him through its myriad eyes right now.

He'll have to fight.

Red takes a pokeball off his belt. It's one of the cheap, mass-produced knock-offs. You learn to tell them apart by the odd texture and the wrong shade of red on the top side. This is one of those that come preloaded with a cloned creature. There are rumors of Silph having put a bounty on the head of whoever produces them. Despite the bad reputation, though, they have worked nice enough for Red, especially when what's inside turned out well.

He throws the ball. He admits to being a little eager to try out the latest batch, fresh off the black market.

It is immediately clear that something is wrong inside the fake pokeball. It clicks and clicks but does not open for a while. When it does open where's a blinding flash and an agonizing mess of flesh and rock writhes on the ground for a moment, then stops. Damn clones. The king burst into a bout of reverberating laughter that quickly turns into a hiss like radio static. It takes a step closer.

Red decides to resort to one of his good ones. He take another pokeball off his belt, this time an authentic model, and holds it at an arm's length as he presses the button. There's a flash of light.

A slender feminine figure stands tall in the alleyway, stretching out her arms, her green hair shaved on the sides and dress dyed black. Tattoos of large ancient beasts of water and fire stand out against her white skin.

She looks at him, then at the king, then at him again. She's been working with Red ever since she got herself kicked out of a petting zoo for frying a human customer's mind.

"What kind of a fucked up mess did you get into this time?" he hears her telepathic voice ask.

The Gardevoir doesn't wait for him to reply. She claps her hands together. As she slowly draws them apart a thin line of psychic energy glows darkly between them, sharp as a red-hot razor. She charges forward.

* * *

A minute later it is all over and Red is wiping a blood splat off his glasses.

"That was too easy," he exhales. "I didn't know that you could do that."

"Neither did I. That HM you gave me wasn't banned for nothing."

"You look almost as though you enjoyed it."

"What if I did?" she asks, wiping her red-stained hand on his jacket.

"That is why I keep you in one of those," he says, pointing at the pokeball.

She giggles as the light sucks her back in.