Pokémon Mafia Tale Chapter 4

--The Story of a Grunt and the Pokémon Who Taught Him to Be a Trainer

Chapter 4: Betrayal

The weeks passed in a blur of training, laughter, and the kind of effortless camaraderie Jake never thought he’d have again. Each morning, they trained hard, pushing their Pokémon to improve. Each evening, they ate together, swapping stories and jokes in the warm glow of the cabin’s lanterns.

Larvitar, once hesitant and fragile, had toughened up considerably. Now, in the woods, he faced off against Machop in a sparring match. Benny and Butterfree cheered from the sidelines as the two Pokémon clashed, exchanging blows with increasing precision. Larvitar fought fiercely, his movements sharper and his strength undeniable, but in the end, Machop’s experience won out. The fighting-type stood victorious, panting from the effort, while Larvitar huffed in frustration.

Nick smirked as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “He’s really improving. Few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have lasted half as long.”

Jake crossed his arms, watching Larvitar with a measured gaze. “He’s still a baby. Don’t push him too hard.” Then, with a glance toward Zubat and Butterfree, he added, “All of our Pokémon are coming along.”

Nick grinned at Benny and Jake as they started walking back to the cabin. “Alright, boys. I’ve got an idea for tonight.” He led them upstairs into the attic and revealed a hidden shelf stocked with bottles of vodka. The sight sent a jolt of excitement through them.

“Oh hell yeah,” Benny grinned, grabbing a bottle.

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “This is either gonna be great or a terrible mistake.”

They set up in the main room, drinks in hand, music playing. First, they talked, telling stories from their childhoods and the dumb things they had done in the past. Then, as the alcohol set in, they wrestled on the floor like a bunch of rowdy teenagers, laughter echoing through the cabin.

Meanwhile, out in the yard, Machop barked at Larvitar, motioning toward a tree. Larvitar tilted his head in curiosity. With a knowing smirk, Machop clenched his fist and slammed it into the trunk. Wood splintered as he punched a clean hole straight through the bark.

Larvitar’s eyes went wide in amazement. He stepped up, rearing back his small claws, and struck with all his might. The result? A tiny scratch.

Nearby, Zubat and Butterfree played in the air, while Nick’s Machop occasionally glanced over, amused by Larvitar’s determination.

Inside the cabin, the hours passed, and the boys were properly drunk. Benny, by far the most wasted, slurred his words as he leaned back against the couch. “Alright, alright, Jake… I gotta ask… what’s your story? Where’d you even get a Larvitar? And why were you in the woods that day?”

Jake, emboldened by the alcohol, smirked and improvised. “Well, you see, Larvitar was given to me by my... mentor.” He waved his hands dramatically. “A wise, old guy who saw my potential and entrusted me with this rare Pokémon.”

Benny raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And why were you running around the forest like some shady dude?”

Jake hesitated for a second, then spoke half-truthfully. “I needed to get away from Celadon. Team Rocket has a grip on that city. I didn’t want any part of it.”

That part wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the full truth either.

Jake took another sip of his drink, his gaze distant. “I used to live in a tiny rented apartment with my mom. My dad left us when I was a kid—off traveling the world with his Pokémon, never looked back. All I remember are the stories he told me before he disappeared. He wanted me to be a trainer someday.”

Benny nodded, suddenly more serious. “Damn. What happened to your mom?”

Jake swallowed hard. “She got sick. We were already broke, and when she couldn’t work anymore, we barely scraped by.”

Benny frowned. “How’d you make ends meet?”

Jake hesitated. He couldn't say the truth—couldn’t tell them he joined Team Rocket for money. “I worked as a janitor at the department store,” he lied. “Cleaned floors, stocked shelves. It wasn’t much, but it paid the bills.”

Benny processed this for a moment before nodding. “Sucks, man.”

Jake deflected. “What about you?”

Benny smirked, swirling the liquid in his bottle. “My parents kicked me out the day I turned eighteen, a year ago. Been wandering Kanto ever since, living off the land with Butterfree.”

Jake turned to Nick. “What about you, Nick?”

Nick’s expression darkened. He looked down at the table, his fingers tightening around his drink. “My mom got sick when I was a kid. My dad took out a loan to pay for her treatment. When she died, the debt didn’t.” He exhaled sharply. “Team Rocket scum kept coming for payment. One day, dad was late. They beat him down in the street. He died from his injuries a few days later.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Nick took a slow drink before continuing. “I sold the apartment, bought this cabin, and got the hell away from all that.”

Jake’s heart pounded. He wanted to tell Nick the truth—that he had once worn the same uniform as the men who killed his father. But he couldn’t. Instead, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Benny clapped Nick on the shoulder. “You’re better off out here, man.”

Nick nodded, the conversation settling into quiet understanding.

Outside, Machop laughed, shaking his head, and demonstrated again. With patient precision, he guided Larvitar through the proper technique. Larvitar kept trying, each time improving bit by bit. Eventually, he managed to leave a decent mark on the bark, but the difference between their power was still vast.

Machop grinned as he compared the gaping hole in the tree to Larvitar’s small scratch. He flexed, teasing Larvitar in a friendly way. Determined, Larvitar adjusted his stance, focusing hard. This time, he struck with perfect precision.

CRACK.

The tree split nearly in half.

Every Pokémon in the yard turned, stunned by Larvitar’s raw strength. Even Machop was impressed, nodding with newfound respect. Butterfree and Zubat cheered excitedly, fluttering around their little friend. Larvitar looked at the gash in the tree, he could scarcely believe it was him.

Back in the cabin, the boys were too caught up in their own fun to notice the impressive feat outside. Music blared, and they had moved on to a darts competition, haphazardly throwing darts at an old wooden board while cracking jokes.

As the night wore on, exhaustion settled in. One by one, they passed out where they sat, bottles half-empty beside them. The cabin fell into a peaceful silence, the warmth of the fire casting a golden glow over their sleeping forms.

Larvitar trembles in his nest, his small body curled tight, but the nightmare is already back. It always comes when his eyes close. It starts the same way as always-a rumble in the sky. The distant thrum of something he cannot understand. But his mother hears it. She stands tall, stronger than the mountain itself, and her tail moves protectively in front of him. Her warmth is everything. Her shadow makes the world safe.

The rumble grows louder. The sky is wrong. The air hums. He peeks from the nest, confused, until a great black shape descends, its wind pushing rocks and dirt through the air. Strange figures move inside it. Their eyes are cold. The air smells like metal.

His mother roars.

Larvitar flinches, but he is not afraid of her. She is his world, unbreakable and fierce. Nothing can hurt her. Not the wind. Not the cold men. Not anything.

But then the strange stick shoots out from the shape in the sky.

A sharp, heavy sound pierces the air. His mother staggers. Her roar turns into a scream. He doesn’t understand—how could anything hurt her? He presses himself against the ground as her blood falls in heavy, warm droplets, staining the dirt red.

The ground cracks beneath her weight when she falls. Everything is quiet. His mother fights, but the strangers hurt her again and again. Larvitar cries out for her, but his voice is too small.Why isn’t she moving? Why isn’t she protecting him?

His heart hammers. His breath comes too fast. The strangers are still there. Watching. Whispering. He can feel their eyes on him as he cries, tiny and broken. They don’t care. They don’t stop. A net falls over him, cold and tight. He screams for her to wake up, to help him, but she can’t hear him anymore.

In the dream, he always wakes up in the cold cage. The air is thick and wrong. He cannot feel her warmth, only the heavy ache where love used to be. No matter how loud he cries, no one answers.

Larvitar wakes with a gasp, his small body shaking. The cabin is dark and quiet, but it isn’t the cage. He isn’t alone anymore.

A soft flutter draws his attention. Zubat hangs from the ceiling beam, watching him with wide, worried eyes. Without a word, Zubat drifts down and curls up beside him. Larvitar presses close, trembling, as the warmth returns little by little.

But deep inside, he knows the truth.

His mother is never coming back.

The past few weeks had been some of the best of Jake’s life. Training, laughing, and living without fear—without the constant weight of Team Rocket’s shadow looming over him. Each day, Larvitar and Zubat grew stronger, and even Jake himself started to feel like a real trainer. For the first time in years, he felt like he had a home.

The lake was their favorite spot. The boys and their Pokémon splashed through the water, throwing a ball back and forth as the sun gleamed off the surface. Larvitar, though reluctant at first, had taken to the game quickly, bounding after the ball and hurling it with force. Benny laughed as Butterfree barely dodged the projectile. Even Nick grinned as Machop leapt from the water to catch a high throw.

Jake felt at peace.

Then the ball flew over Nick’s head, landing near their pile of belongings on the shore. “I got it,” Nick said, wading toward land.

Jake wiped the water from his face and called after him. “Hey, while you’re over there, can you grab Larvitar’s Pokéball? He looks exhausted.”

Nick gave a thumbs-up as he reached the bags. He knelt down, rummaging through Jake’s pockets. His fingers brushed against something smooth and firm—Jake’s wallet. As he pulled it out, the flap fell open, revealing a sliver of black and crimson.

Nick’s heart stopped.

His fingers moved on their own, sliding the card out.

It was a Team Rocket ID card, with Jake's name and face staring back at him. A chill ran down his spine despite the summer heat.

He stuffed the ID into his own bag and grabbed Larvitar’s Pokéball. By the time he walked back, he had forced a neutral expression onto his face. He tossed the Pokéball to Jake. “Here.”

Jake recalled Larvitar, then frowned at Nick. “You good, man? You look kind of pale.”

Nick forced a smile. “Yeah, just not feeling great. Think I’ll head back to the cabin early. You guys stay, don’t worry about me.”

Benny gave him a thumbs-up. “Alright, man, feel better.”

Jake watched as Nick walked away. Something felt off, but he couldn’t place it. He shook off the thought and turned back to the game.

**

Nick’s pace quickened the moment he was out of sight. By the time he reached the cabin, he was running. His mind spun, pieces clicking into place. The rare Pokémon. The vague backstory. The way Jake always hesitated when talking about his past.

Inside, he slammed the door shut, yanked the Rocket ID from his bag, and stared at it, breathing hard.

A grunt. Jake had been in Team Rocket for over five years.

Everything Jake had said, every moment they had shared—it was all a deception. Nick's hands clenched into fists as he thought about all the lies Jake had told them. Was Jake here for his father’s debt? Was this all part of some elaborate scheme?

Nick knew he couldn't trust the Celadon police; they were too corrupt, too intertwined with Team Rocket. Instead, he called the Vermillion Police Department, the nearest authority he could think of.

“This is Vermilion PD.”

Nick exhaled sharply. “I have a Team Rocket grunt at my cabin in Celadon Woods. I need your help.”

A long pause. Then: “Celadon Woods is outside our jurisdiction. We don’t have the clearance to step into Rocket-controlled territory.”

Nick gritted his teeth. “So you’re telling me there’s nothing you can do?”

A sigh on the other end. “If you can get him across the river south, we can detain him.”

Nick agreed to a meeting point and time for the next day. He hung up, his mind racing with plans. He would lure Jake across the river, hand him over to the police, and finally get some sort of justice for his father.

That night, when the others returned, he was already in bed, back turned to them.

Jake knocked lightly on the wooden bedframe. “Hey, you feeling better?”

Nick didn’t turn around. “Yeah. Just my stomach. Probably be fine tomorrow.”

Jake hesitated, then said, “Alright. Get some rest.”

Nick lay awake long after the others had fallen asleep. His eyes bore into the darkness, his thoughts locked onto the figure of Jake across the room. His father’s killer might as well have been sleeping in the bed next to him.

Tomorrow, he would make things right.

**

“Jake, wake up!” Jake groaned as Nick shook him awake. The early morning light filtered through the window. “What’s up?” he mumbled.

“I saw a rare Pokémon near the river. I need your help catching it.” Jake rubbed his eyes. “What kind?”

Nick shook his head. “Dunno the name. It was big, though.” Jake sat up. Something about Nick’s tone felt… wrong. He sounded strained.  “Alright, give me a sec, hey wait what about Benny?” "Nah it has to be just you and me, trust me." Nick said

As they walked through the woods, the sky turned gray. Clouds rolled in, and a light drizzle began to fall. Nick barely spoke. Jake’s unease deepened. “What exactly did you see?”

Nick didn’t meet his eyes. “Not sure. It moved fast.” Jake nodded slowly. The silence stretched between them. Nick’s fists were clenched at his sides, his shoulders stiff. His friend was acting strange. Paranoia crept up Jake’s spine, but he pushed it down.

They reached the river, where a bridge stretched across the water. Nick walked behind Jake. Halfway across, Jake remembered that Nick had looked through his pockets yesterday, and Jake checked his wallet.

His Rocket ID was gone. Jake turned around.

Nick stood at the edge of the bridge, staring at him. The look on his face said everything. The rain picked up. Thunder rumbled in the distance

The rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching the bridge in an unrelenting downpour. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Jake’s grip tightened as he stared at Nick, whose face was twisted in anger and pain.

Nick took the card out of his pocket. “I know who you are.” Nick’s voice was low, steady, but there was a tremor beneath it—rage barely contained.

Jake swallowed hard. “Nick… what are you talking about?”

“Don’t.” Nick’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “Don’t lie to me. Not anymore.”

Jake's Rocket ID stared back at him, the bold crimson ‘R’ like a wound torn open.

“Nick,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what? That you’re one of them? That every single thing you told me—every joke, every conversation, every damn moment—was a lie?” His voice cracked, but he pushed through, stepping closer. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think you could just pretend for ever?”

Jake shook his head, water dripping from his soaked hair. “No! It wasn’t a lie! I left, Nick. I ran. I—” He exhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. “I couldn’t be a part of them anymore.”

Nick’s expression darkened. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?” His voice was quieter now, deep and unforgiving. “You expect me to forget what they did? My dad…” His breath hitched. “My dad is dead, Jake. Because of Team Rocket. Because of you.”

Jake recoiled, the guilt sinking its claws deeper into his chest. He forced himself to meet Nick’s gaze. “I didn’t know, Nick. I swear, I didn’t know.”

Nick let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “You knew what Rocket was. You knew what they did to people. And you still put on that uniform. You still chose them.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Jake shouted, the words escaping before he could stop them. His voice cracked under the weight of his past. He took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides. “I had nothing, Nick! No money, no future, no way to take care of my mom when she got sick. I was just a scared, desperate kid who thought joining them was the only way to survive.”

Nick’s lip curled in disgust. “Liar.” “You made your choice. And now I’m making mine.”

“What… what did you do?” Jake whispered. Nick exhaled sharply, his hands shaking before he shoved them into his pockets. “The police are coming,” he said. “I called them.”

Jake’s stomach dropped. “Nick, no. You don’t understand—Rocket is after me. If they find me, they’ll kill me. I’m not safe anywhere.” His breathing was uneven now, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Please. You have to believe me.”

Nick looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, Jake thought—hoped—that maybe, just maybe, he’d see something in his eyes that would make him change his mind.

But Nick only shook his head. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet.

“I don’t know who the hell you are.”

Jake gritted his teeth, reaching for his Pokéball. "If this is how it has to be, then so be it! Larvitar, I choose you!"

Nick glared. "You’re in luck," he admitted. "The police aren’t allowed near the bridge and are still a ways away. But no matter." He tossed his own Pokéball forward. "Machop, let’s get justice for Dad."

Larvitar materialized onto the bridge as the rain matted his scales, with no anger towards the opponent. Machop, on the other hand, emerged with fire in his eyes, fists clenched and trembling with rage.

"Machop, use Karate Chop!" Nick roared.

Machop lunged, muscles coiling before bringing down his hand like an axe. Larvitar barely managed to block the attack, sliding back from the sheer force.

"Larvitar, use Thrash!" Jake countered.

Larvitar erupted with wild energy, charging at Machop with reckless abandon. The two Pokémon clashed in a flurry of blows—each strike met with a block, each feint countered with an instinctual dodge. They had trained together, they knew each other’s moves, but now they fought not as comrades, but as warriors with opposing masters.

Nick’s jaw tightened. "Machop, don’t hold back! You know what he is! You know what he’s done!"

Machop’s eyes flared with renewed fury. He feinted left, then spun, landing a devastating Karate Chop square into Larvitar’s gut. Larvitar wheezed, the air forced from his lungs, and staggered back, Machop continued with a combo of punches until Larvitar fainted and was sent flying back at Jake's feet.

"No! Larvitar!" Jake shrieked, his heart hammering as he saw his baby Pokémon beaten so brutally. "Return!"

Larvitar vanished in a beam of red light. Jake’s hands shook, but he had no time to hesitate. He grabbed another Pokéball and hurled it forward.

"Zubat, it’s up to you!"

Zubat materialized midair, wings flapping furiously against the storm’s winds.

"Zubat, use Wing Attack!"

Zubat dove at blinding speed, its wings slashing through the rain as it struck Machop dead-on. The Fighting-type staggered, grunting in pain. He lashed out with a desperate Karate Chop, but Zubat weaved and dodged with ease.

Jake saw an opening. "Again! Wing Attack!"

Zubat swooped down and struck Machop square in the chest. Nick’s eyes widened as Machop stumbled backward, breathless.

"Is this it?!" Jake demanded over the roar of the storm. "Are we done?!"

Machop’s fists shook, his entire body trembling—not with fear, but with sheer, unbreakable resolve. Then, Machop’s battered form began to glow.

Jake’s breath caught in his throat. "No... it can’t be…"

Machop’s form expanded, muscles thickening, limbs lengthening. When the light faded, standing in his place was a towering Machoke.

Nick smirked, his eyes blazing. "Machoke, use Cross Chop!"

Machoke lunged, forming an X with his massive arms before slamming them into Zubat with bone-crushing force. Zubat screeched, flipping through the air, barely regaining control before the next attack came hurtling toward him.

"Confuse Ray!" Jake commanded desperately.

Zubat released a pulse of eerie, disorienting light—but Machoke dodged with terrifying speed, lunging again.

"Cross Chop! Again!"

Zubat had no time to react. The attack connected, sending him hurtling into the wooden planks of the bridge with a sickening crack.

Jake gasped. "Please, Nick, let’s stop this! I understand how you feel, but let’s talk this through!"

The wind howled. The bridge swayed violently beneath them. Nick’s voice was raw and broken. "How could you ever understand?!"

Zubat twitched, his broken body barely moving. Jake clenched his fists, his voice shaking. "No… Zubat, please. Get back up!"

A faint glow surrounded Zubat. Then, his form grew, wings expanding, body stretching. When the glow faded, Golbat stood in his place, larger and stronger than before. Jake's eyes lit up with hope.

Both Pokémon locked eyes. As if reading each other’s determination, they unleashed a simultaneous Mean Look, staring each other down, but neither wavered.

They charged, fists and wings colliding in the raging storm. Machoke’s Karate Chop met Golbat’s Wing Attack over and over again. Lightning flashed, illuminating the fierce battle—a fight born from anger, sorrow, and years of unspoken pain.

It seemed Golbat was winning, then, Machoke caught Golbat by the wing.

Jake’s heart sank. "No…"

With a roar, Machoke slammed Golbat into the ground with earth-shaking force. The bridge groaned beneath them. Before Golbat could recover, Machoke grabbed him again and hurled him at Jake.

Jake barely caught his Pokémon, staggering back. Golbat’s eyes fluttered, barely conscious. It was over.

Nick stepped forward, rain streaming down his face, victory burning in his eyes. "This is where it ends."

Jake looked down at Golbat, at his beaten, loyal partner. Jake was left with no other option. With Golbat in his arms, Jake leapt off the bridge

Jake and Golbat plummeted. The bridge vanished above them as they tumbled into the raging river below, swallowed by the darkness and the storm.