Wonderland

Wonderland was written because my laptop died and I couldn’t work on the Chaos Trilogy, which was incredibly frustrating. But then it turned out this story became rather addicting…this is a darker version of the Pokémon world, and many of the attacks are quite different than in the anime. This is, however, set around the same time as the Chaos Trilogy, and frozen at that point. As usual, there are no pairings in this story, and there are both original characters and anime characters, although I have a feeling you won’t recognize the anime characters for a while. Enjoy!

Chapter One

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to walk from here?”

“That depends a good deal where you want to go,” said the Cat.

—Alice in Wonderland

— — — — — —

The girl was tremendously excited. Yesterday she had turned ten—officially! finally! she was ten!—and so now, only a day later, she was biking her way to Sandgem Town to get her first Pokémon. She’d gotten the postcard just like everyone else, and although she had promised her mother she’d pick a Turtwig (“They’re the safest ones, honey, and with your…disabilities you need to stick with something safe”) she’d already decided she’d get a Chimchar. Sure, they looked kind of weird, but then they evolved into great big fighting fire monkeys and no one would expect a little girl to have such a tough Pokémon…

The girl fidgeted nervously as she pedaled, pushing a long strand of curly brown hair out of her face and back behind her ear. Mom wouldn’t like it when she found out the girl had picked Chimchar, but, well, Mom wasn’t here, right? This was her choice. And besides, fire might be a bit more dangerous than grass-types, but—

That was when she saw the teenager laying face-down on the path, blocking it neatly with his body.

She squealed, and with a screeching of the brakes and a sharp twist to the left managed to not hit him and instead ran into a tree. Groaning, and groaning even more when she saw the ruins of her bike when she finally managed to get up, she limped over to the boy, determined to give him a piece of her mind.

Only someone else had got there first. The first thing she noticed was the makeshift bandages over the back of his head, all stained a bright and terribly cheerful red, and the bruises and cuts over the rest of his body. He wore a dirt-crusted, might-have-been-white-once shirt with a rather high collar. It was ripped nearly in half and ragged gray edges along the shoulders suggested there had been sleeves once—the boy must have used his own clothes to make the bandages around his head. His pants were dirty and black and he wore one white boot on his right foot. He was completely bald, and when she turned him over she saw the front of the shirt had a ragged hole right over the heart.

Asking him if he was okay would have been a rather moronic question, but she asked it anyway.

“Hey, you! Are you all right?”

The boy opened one eye slowly, the other crusted shut with blood. She shuddered. She’d never seen someone with such creepy eyes before—the sclera was orange, the iris yellow, and the pupil slit like a cat’s. He stared at her for a moment, bemused, before staggering into a crawl.

“Hey, wait, you’re way too hurt to go anywhere, and—okay go wherever you want!” The last bit was said very fast because quite suddenly the boy had a bloody knife in his hand and was pointing it at her.

They stared at each other, her too frightened to move, him too injured. Finally he said, carefully and quietly, “…Trainer?”

She bit her lip. “N-not yet…”

Slowly: “Starting…?”

“Yeah, I was just going to Professor Rowan’s to get my Chimchar when—”

The boy froze. “Rowan?”

He put the knife back in his boot, not seeming to care whether it cut him or not. “Let’s go.”

— — — — — —

It was slow, quiet going. The girl didn’t dare ask questions, and the boy didn’t seem inclined to talk. He leaned on her when he had to, leaving blood on her new green jacket, but she didn’t say a word. Finally, when she saw he was close to fainting and she could no longer handle walking for the both of them, she said, “I’m tired.”

He stared at her for a moment, then slowly pushed himself off her shoulder. “Fine.” He continued to walk.

“Look, let’s just sit down,” she pleaded. “I’ve got a first-aide kit in my bag, it’s really good, ‘cause Mom…anyway, we won’t make it to Professor’s if you don’t at least let me bandage your head. It looks like you’re still bleeding!”

He studied her for a moment, then collapsed against a tree. “Bag,” he commanded. She glared.

“Mine, thank you. I’ll get it out.” She pulled the kit from the carefully packed layers of supplies and clothing, muttering the entire time. When she looked up, the boy’s knife was in his hand again, and he was tossing it almost idly.

The girl gulped. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. He opened it and grunted with approval. In a moment he’d pulled out antiseptic and rolls of bandages, and after yanking off his own makeshift wrappings, poured half the bottle of peroxide on the gaping wound. The girl hissed in sympathy, but the boy didn’t even seem to notice the pain. His creepy yellow eye was glazed, as though he was somewhere else entirely.

“Listen,” the girl said, pulling out her spare shirt so he could clean his face. “I’m Celeste. What’s your name?”

The boy stared at her. “Name?”

“Yeah, what you call yourself? Sound familiar? Like…Tom? Ed? Frank?”

“Name…” The boy rubbed his throat and seemed to be thinking hard.

“Experiment no. 642, progressing well,” he said quite suddenly, and in an entirely different tone of voice. “Accepting implants from experiments 567a, 24, 642a and 642b. Shows manageable usage in testing. Aqua…” The boy rubbed his throat again, as though talking physically hurt him.

Celeste stared. Finally she found something to say.

“…Huh?”

But the boy had closed his eye, and seemed to be dozing. Celeste bit her lip, wondering what to do. Running away seemed like a really good option right now—the boy was scary. But…

He looked like he couldn’t be more than a few years older than her. And right now—with his creepy eye closed, dozing, clearly attempting to relax—he looked like he desperately needed help.

And besides, Mom did say to find a travel companion in case of emergencies…

“Wake up…um…Aqua,” she said, poking the boy lightly. “We’ve still got a while to go.”

The boy slowly opened his eye, and stared at her—no, she thought with a shudder, through her. For a moment it seemed like his eye actually glowed. Then he nodded, and, using both her and the tree for support, got up.

As the two continued down the path, something in the bushes followed, its mad eyes focused solely on the boy.

— — — — — —

As they walked, Celeste had time to further study her new companion.

He was very, very odd. She hadn’t noticed it before, but when the boy had cleaned his face she saw he had one yellow circle tattooed on his left cheek—at least, she thought it was a tattoo. There was a similar yellow circle on his right cheek, below the eye that was still shut tight. His skin was a shade darker than the average Sinnohian, and his open eye never seemed to be still—though he never rested his gaze on her, he was always looking around.

But now it was getting dark, and she, at least, was exhausted. When the sun set and stars started coming out Celeste pulled herself free of Aqua’s grip and sat down.

“What…are you doing?” Aqua asked.

“What’s it look like? The sun’s set. We gotta make camp. We’re in the middle of nowhere and haven’t got any Pokémon and it’s dark. A fire might keep them away…”

“No!” the boy hissed. Celeste glared.

“Yes,” she snapped. “Wild Pokémon attacks are bad, don’t you understand that? And I need to sleep.”

“Dangerous.”

“Not as dangerous as walking in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.”

“Yes. More. Followed.”

“Listen, you’re not Tarzan. Can’t you talk like a normal person?”

Aqua growled and turned away.

Celeste sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry, but…I gotta stop. If I don’t get enough sleep, I have seizures. You know what those are? Seizures? They’re nasty. And I have to take my medicine, too, and…”

And that was when she realized she was talking to empty space. Aqua had literally walked away from the conversation.

She felt her face grow red. “Well, fine, leave then! See if I care! It’s not like you used up half my med-kit and got blood all over my clothes! I’ll be just fine, thank you!”

Only silence answered. Celeste listened to the chirps of wild Pokémon around her, somehow far more threatening out here than when she’d listened to them contentedly in her bedroom, and shivered.

— — — — — —

The thing sniffed the air, once, and slowly stalked off the path. It had been following its prey for weeks, though it hadn’t noticed or cared. Its sense of smell was better than a wolf’s, its eyesight keener than the eagle’s. It was the best tracker ever designed, and it could continue on the hunt for as long as necessary to bring back its prey.

It was not, however, very smart. And the smell of blood is always strongest.

It entered a small clearing of trees, following the scent of blood. A creature was huddled next to a fire—shape, human, but the smell did not lie.

If the hunter thought, it thought only this: Attack.

— — — — — —

Celeste had been dozing when she heard the roar. She looked up, and saw something out of nightmares—a creature that looked like someone had taken a Luxray’s head and mashed an Arcanine’s nose onto it, and then mashed the head onto an Arcanine’s body, stuck the Luxray’s tail where the Arcanine’s should be, and then decided as an afterthought to add in the monstrously huge orange wings of a Charizard. The roar it produced was almost as terrifying as the creature—forced from a tortured throat not designed for it, it sounded like the mix of an infant’s scream and a wolf’s howl.

Horrified, she backed from it. But she’d forgotten how close she was to the fire, and accidentally stuck a hand on a red-hot log. She screamed again as the pain registered in her brain and the fire quickly spread onto her clothes. She rolled desperately, trying to put the fire out, although it hurt even more.

Then, she was covered with dirt, her once long hair sizzled in her ear, and she saw the creature leap from its hiding place, fangs glittering in the firelight. Instinctively she grabbed for something, anything—and came up with a burning branch just as the creature landed. It took a mouthful of fire instead of her head, but its snout was from the fiery Arcanine and it snorted out the flames. Its eyes glowed gold as it snapped the branch in half. Celeste sobbed and tried to crawl away, but the animal jumped on top of her and sunk its claws into her shoulders. She couldn’t move. Blood dripped as the creature lowered its jaws around her neck, and Celeste whimpered and closed her eyes—

—and then there was a crackling sound and a thump and the weight was gone. Celeste kept her eyes closed, but she could hear the snarling of two animals—one the strange scream-snarl of the monster, the other lower in pitch and a little familiar. She rolled over and saw the Arcanine-Luxray thing fighting—a Raichu? with a Leafeon’s tail?

It didn’t matter. The monster was gone, and she could move. She heard the Raichu thing scream something, then open its mouth wide and fire a green ball of energy at the monster. The creature took the hit and howled in pain, but the Raichu didn’t let up and followed with a Thunderbolt attack.

Celeste grabbed another burning branch and, with the insane intensity that comes only from those who know they will die no matter what they do, charged the monster. The Raichu fired another green energy attack, and just a second after it burned into the monster’s side she smashed the branch on its head as hard as she could. The creature moaned, tottered, and fell.

Celeste looked up and met the Raichu’s eyes.

“Rai rai chu!” it said, and rolled something to her feet. When she looked down, she saw it was a pink Pokéball.

“Wha…is it yours?” Celeste asked, confused and disoriented. The Raichu shook its head firmly and mimed throwing an object at the monster.

“You want me to catch that…thing? No!”

Raichu nodded furiously, and Celeste shuddered. “I don’t think you get it. It tried to kill me. Why would I want it?”

The Raichu merely looked at the creature, which was already starting to stir. Its stare said everything—If you don’t catch it, it won’t try to kill you, it will kill you.

Celeste picked up the Pokéball at her feet. It really was ridiculously pink. She threw the ball, and the monster disappeared in a flash of red light. The lock fought for a moment, then beeped, and the ball was still.

The girl whimpered and nearly collapsed. Now that the threat was gone her body was screaming its list of woes—skin, burned, hair, sizzling, clothing, charred. She tried to pull out her med-kit to put the burn-healing cream on herself—thank you, Mom, for being paranoid—but whimpered again as she had to move to get it.

The Raichu seemed to understand what was going on, and dragged her duffel bag over to her side. She dumped the cream on every bit of burned skin she could feel, and as it calmed the pain she gave a sigh and closed her eyes.

— — — — — —

She woke up to the sound of birdsong. It was morning.

Celeste sighed in relief. It must have been a nightmare…

And that was when her arm tingled in pain and the smell of burned hair and cloth reached her nostrils.

Celeste let out a cry and looked around wildly. Beside her was the pink Pokéball and the remains of her fire. There was no sign of the Raichu, although evidence of the fight was everywhere in the form of scuffmarks and brown patches of dried blood. She looked down and gave a second cry when she saw the state of her clothes—they were burned almost past the point of decency, and when she reached up to touch her head she felt only fringes of charred hair and, in some places, pure scalp. Her arm was bright red, like she’d gotten a horrible sunburn—and she knew it would have been worse if she hadn’t had her anti-burn cream handy.

With a groan she reapplied the cream and began to search her duffel for some clothes that weren’t covered in Aqua’s blood or burned. She was still searching when she heard a rustle in the bushes. Her head jerked up, and she shivered. Just a day ago she would have written such a sound off, but a day ago she hadn’t been aware there were monsters in the woods.

Instinctively she hefted the duffel, snatched the pink Pokéball and hid behind a tree. In a moment two oddly dressed people walked into the clearing—the male wore an outfit similar to Aqua’s, albeit his had long gray sleeves and was a good deal cleaner, and the female wore a modified dress that was quite similar to the male’s. Both had odd bowl haircuts and teal hair, and were led by Growlithes. One of the Growlithes sniffed the scuffmarks and the blood-covered shirt Celeste had left on the ground and howled.

The woman smiled grimly and nodded. As she passed Celeste’s hiding tree, the girl saw she had a stylized G on her chest—and immediately Celeste knew who these people were, from whispered rumors and cop shows. Team Galactic—a group of fanatics led by a man who thought he was God, or something like that. Celeste began to edge away quietly.

“642, Growlithe here smells your blood,” the woman called. “We know you’re here.” After another moment to let the Growlithe howl, the woman added, “And girl, whoever you are, you might as well come out. You can’t hide from us.”

Celeste said nothing, but continued to back away.

The woman shrugged, and made a motion with her hand. Instantly the two Growlithes let loose streams of fire into the bushes. Celeste screamed and dodged the flames and rolled into the clearing.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Looks like she’s been in a fight with a fire-type,” he said.

“Or Electric,” said the woman, narrowing her eyes. “What are the burns from, girl?”

“Oh, you know how it is with your starter Pokémon, one minute they’re all smiles and the next—”

“Stop lying, it’s tiresome.” The woman sounded almost bored, but her eyes burned with an intensity Celeste hadn’t seen since meeting Aqua’s haunted gaze. “You’ve met with 642. His blood would not be on your clothing otherwise. I suggest you tell us where he is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The woman gave a chilling smile. “I’m sure you’d remember him. Bald, a yellow eye, a half foot or so taller than you…probably wearing clothing similar to ours…”

Celeste bit her lip. That sounded like Aqua. And anyone Team Galactic was looking for was either in trouble or was trouble. Still, she had a feeling Aqua was the former. If it was Galactic that had hurt him so…well, no wonder why he ran…

“N-no, no one like that,” she said, averting her gaze, clutching the pink Pokéball tightly, like a talisman. The woman sighed.

“Terrible liar. You project everything. I suppose we’ll just have to get the truth out some other way, hmm? Growlithe!”

Suddenly the woman’s Growlithe let loose a second stream of fire, and Celeste barely dodged in time, dropping everything as she did so. She saw her duffel go up in flames, and heard a strange popping sound—

—and the monster appeared before her, growling at the Galactic gangsters.

“What the hell is that?!” gasped the man. The woman narrowed her eyes.

“586, I think,” she said in a soft, almost dreamy voice. “It must have been tracking 642 as well…hmm. So the little girl caught it. Not without some help, I’m certain.” She smiled nastily at Celeste, and waved a hand at the monster. “Go on, girl. Do you think you can control this monstrosity? Give it to us and tell us where 642 has gone, and we won’t burn you to a crisp. I can assure you 586 will have no such compellations.”

The monster half-turned its head, and a single yellow eye, so similar to Aqua’s, stared at her intently. The gaze froze Celeste to the spot—the look the creature was giving her was half questioning, half pleading. It was asking her to trust it, that it would protect her from the gangsters, and from anything else that threatened her…

She shuddered. No, those eyes were lying. It would kill her, just like the woman said. It already had tried to kill her, once—what was to stop it from trying again? She should just hand the monster over and try to forget all of this had ever happened. She gripped the Pokéball, and aimed it at the monster.

Then Celeste met the woman’s eyes.

And knew she was lying, too. And while Celeste could recall the monster to a Pokéball, she had no such control over the woman.

“No,” she said, minimizing the ball and slipping it into a pocket. The woman’s face instantly went from controlled nastiness to pure fury.

“Then you may die,” she snarled, and suddenly Celeste screamed as she found herself floating in the air, and she was slammed into a tree—

—and the monster jumped over the two Growlithes and crashed directly into the woman, slashing at her with its claws and attempting to bite her neck or head. The Growlithes reacted instantly and both tackled the creature, knocking it off the woman, who got to her feet unsteadily with the help of her companion. The woman was cut in several places and her white uniform was covered with dirt and blood.

“If that’s how you’ll play, then I know how to deal with you,” the woman growled. The monster only snarled in return and stood before Celeste, tail held high in the air and head held low and menacing. It spread its Charizard wings wide, and took to the sky.

“Growlithes!” snapped the man. “Flamethrower!”

“No!” cried Celeste, but the attacks couldn’t reach the beast, who still hovered high. It dived and smashed into one of the Growlithes, then picked it up on its arch back into the air and dropped it from about thirty feet in the sky. The Growlithe did not get back up.

“Growlithe, return,” said the woman, pulling out a Pokéball. Then, to the man: “don’t bother with battles—we didn’t bring the right types to subdue 586.” She stared directly into Celeste’s eyes, and suddenly Celeste couldn’t breathe. She tried desperately to inhale, but her own body wouldn’t let her. All she could see was the woman, and the woman’s cruel smile, as she tried to force her lungs to inflate.

And then the monster was there, and knocked down the woman and broke her eye contact and Celeste could breathe again and she started coughing as she gasped in huge breaths of air, and before she could think the creature bit what remained of her shirt’s collar between its teeth, and it lifted them both from the ground, Celeste screaming—

— — — — — —

Author’s note: Wonderland will not be updated as frequently as Paradigm Shift, because Paradigm Shift has actually been completely finished whereas this is still a work in progress. I’m just publishing the first chapter now to get an idea of whether people like it or not. Please review!