So anyway, I was working on the latest chapter of Zombie Ranma, but I was stuck. So I surfed for a while until I found a couple Ranma/Pokeverse stories, and it this idea hit me. It's crazy, but for the past week, every time I try to write on in Zombie this thing would jump out of my head and attack me.
So, for the sake of a little peace while I work on more serious things, I present to you...
The Zombie's Harem
Ranma staggered back before slumping to the ground, focusing on healing himself before they found him again. It had taken time, but he had gotten his revenge. All of it.
Reports had gone out, about a rash of odd murders and disappearances. Police had come. Most of them had been easy to evade, but a few... a few had proven most tenacious in their pursuit.
Eventually, it had become neccessary to eliminate them.
But that didn't stop the problem.
Rather that dissuading other police and persons of authority, the death of a few detectives had proven to be blood in the water. Now everyone was after him, and the more... unique communities of Japan were taking note as well.
He hadn't wanted to kill them. They personally had done him no wrong... was it their fault that they had been assigned to track him down?
But they were relentless, and eventually... they had left him with no choice. He had granted them swift deaths at the least, having no desire to needlessly torment innocents.
Then... others had gotten involved.
Demon hunters, similar to Erik. He was on his own with them, and they were just as relentless as the normal police forces. And, to him, many times as deadly. Most preferred to hunt alone, but after a while, they began to form up in packs for the express purpose of hunting him.
And then, they had come.
He found it ironic, that he had taken his vengeance, evaded or destroyed the mere mortal fools that pursued him, and had even stood toe to toe with the greatest demon-hunters in the world... only to fall against a group of untrained schoolgirls.
His arrogance had been his downfall. Besieged by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and their pathetic levels of ki, he had confidently stood in place and waited for them to take the first shot.
A shot which had torn his body nearly in half.
It was sheer luck that rather than making certain that the blast had finished the job, the blonde ditz had turned to her allies to talk about something. Apparently they had never fought against something that could survive past having his internal organs vaporized. By the time she turned again, he was long gone, having dropped down an open sewer main, gladly accepting the stench and gender shift in exchange for a chance to heal his wounds.
But they came back, again and again, determined to put an end to his existence. It wasn't fair. He had enacted his revenge, all he wanted now was the right to exist. After they had realized that, apparently unlike their previous foes, he would not stick around once they showed up and began their little speeches they had begun simply blasting as soon as they saw him.
This time, there was no escape. Wherever he went, they were already there.
They were here. Already.
He lurched to his feet, gathering his power... the dark opposite to all living things ki... as the last of his wounds finally sealed themselves.
"Little girls... You have proven to be more trouble than I had anticipated. But better than you have sought me out, and all have failed."
He screamed out the final sentence, inwardly raging for the energy he had summoned to do something, anything, more than the simple blasts of dark fire that it made manifest in battles.
"I WILL NOT ALLOW MY EXISTENCE TO END!"
Professor Stroak grumbled as the group of people and pokegirls made their way into his laboratory. Truly, he was honored that his old friend had wanted him to be the witness to this little arrangement, but several of his experiments were reaching a critical phase. Without his constant supervision, who knows what could go wrong. Or worse, there could be an accidental breakthrough of scientific technology that went unrecorded because he wasn't there to make note of how it had happened.
"Hey... is this doohickey supposed to be glowing like this?"
"I dunno... Its starting to vibrate too now... better just leave it alone, the Professor will know what to do about it when he gets back."
Professor Stroak shook his head slightly, banishing the foolish anxieties. The only thing that he had active at the moment was an experiment with Pokeball transport technology, and the other half wasn't completed yet, so even if his staff did something extroardinarily stupid... as usual... the chances of anything like that happening were microscopic, at best.
"Dude, the buttons on this console have all gone flashy and shit. What do I do now, man?"
"Just... don't touch anything, and wait for the Professor to come back and fix whatever it is you screwed up."
"The FUCK! I didn't touch nothing man, I swear... what the FUCK is THAT!"
He rubbed his neck and offered some sake to Saotome and Tendo... their schools would be joined today as Saotome's son took one of Tendo's daughters to be his Alpha. It was a sad fact that the boy had already mentally undressed the three candidates, and was undoubtedly trying to think of a way to get all three at the same time.
And then he would likely only keep them until he got tired of them, as it was unlikely he would ever return to keep the ancient dojo intact, as had been the reasoning behind the agreement.
Given the boy's disposition... questionable choice of friends... sad tendency to beat anyone who looked at him funny into unconcsiousness... and collection of extremely illegal items that he thought nobody knew he had... It was actually quite likely that he would end up joining into one of those teams of criminals and pokegirl thieves that seemed to be growing out of the woodwork. Worst case scenario, he would end up joining up in Trauma Team itself.
Sad, but until the boy actually did something blatantly illegal, both Tendo and Saotome would turn a blind eye to his 'delinquint tendencies', and until that point there was nothing that he could do about it either.
So, he reluctantly brought out the forms and...
"Professor! Come quick! Some real weird shit is going on with one of the experiments."
He had never been happier to be told something like that, but covered it with a scowl as he 'absently' dropped the papers and stood up to dash off to the laboratory.
And stop, just inside the door, at the sight of Genma's son, Ranma, panting for breath while slumping. His ears, sharper than normal, what with having to constantly listen for his two bungling assitants missteps... sometimes from rooms away... caught the boy murmur something to himself.
Then he smirked and slumped fully to the floor, presumably from exhaustion.
Professor Stroak glanced between the two Ranma's for a few moments, noting with some trepidation that the mere sight of the figure slumped on the floor seemed to enrage Genma's son beyond comprehension. His eyes the swung slowly to the wrecked remains of his invention and sweat began to pour off of his assistants brows.
"So... did either of you, by any chance, make a note of how this happened?"
The two assistants immediately broke out into high speed babble.
"Weird doohicky started glowing..."
"Idiot touched something, I know he did..."
"... vibrating, all sorts of shit..."
"... told him not to touch anything, but did he listen..."
"...Monitors and shit started lighting the fuck up..."
"... Sparks were flying everywhere..."
"... This weird tendrily black shit started oozing out of the opening you told us to keep the fuck away from... spit him out..."
"... Then everything started blowing up, and..."
"... IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"
A large sweatdrop rolled down the professors head as both of the assisstants finished up with the same words at roughly the same volume, while pointing accusatory fingers at the other.
"... I'll take that as a 'no' then. Remind me, why do I keep you two around?"
"I'm your nephew, and you can't fire me."
"I just work for food. Hell yeah!"
The professor just sighed as everyone else sweatdropped at the brutally honest statements, though Genma's son swiftly returned to glaring at the prone form.
Ranma struggled awake. He'd died once before, and the endless darkness of slumber was far too similar to what he had experienced in death before for him to spend any longer within it than absolutely neccessary.
His eyes opened upon the old man he had noticed out of the corner of his eyes before passing out from the stress of... whatever it was he had done.
"So you're finally awake... "
He allowed the silence to stretch for a moment before sitting up and answering.
"... No last name?"
"No. Just Ranma."
"... Well then, Ranma, it's nice to meet you. I'm Professor..."
Ranma rudely stood up and began getting dressed.
"I don't care who you are, old man."
"Hmmm... how rude. It's actually quite refreshing. Most other people go out of there way to be painstakingly polite to me. You though..."
Ranma grunted to himself as he tossed the burned, shredded, and moldy remains of his clothes into a wastebin, grudgingly taking the offered set of clothing from the old man.
"I told you already old man, I don't care who you are, or why people are polite to you."
"Hmm. I see. I suppose that's fine then. I simply wished to provide you with vital information about the universe you inhabit now."
Ranma paused midway to the door, before turning back to the old man with one eye arched.
The old man nodded, and proceeded to explain as Ranma sat down on the bed again.
"So, old man..."
"... old man. You know I'm from a different universe because I came through your fancy machine, and I look exactly like... Genma's son. And in this universe, there are bunches of girls that look like deranged cosplayers..."
"... Deranged cosplayers instead of human girls. And you want me to what now?"
"I feel it would be the wisest choice for you to become a Tamer, as although you are doubtless a fine Martial Artist..."
"... A fine warrior, there are very few people around who would even bother learning martial arts when they could simply capture or purchase a pokegirl and make them do the fighting for them. Really, you have no other viable options."
"... I don't intend to be here long. I think..."
The door was violently kicked open, as the younger Saotome stormed in.
"So. You're awake... Fight me."
Ranma arched an eyebrow at the arrogant demand before turning his gaze at his hands, deep in contemplation.
The Professor, sensing the coming storm, stepped back away from the two individuals.
"... No? The hell do you mean, NO? I challenge you! Fight me!"
Ranma coldly ignored him as he took a sip of the cooling tea that one of the professor's aides had left on the bedside table.
"I don't feel like it."
Genma's son nearly exploded in rage before calming himself and smirking as an idea occured to him. He swaggered up and slapped the teacup out of Ranma's hand.
"Maybe you don't understand, little man. When you showed up, you broke some of the professor's stuff. Some really expensive shit if I guess right. I'm gonna take the payment out of your hide."
Ranma glanced at the many books that the professor had flipped through. He had a point, though if he remembered correctly, situations like these were supposed to be resolved through a 'pokegirl battle' rather than through their fists. He glanced back down to the shattered teacup and sighed.
"That was very nice tea. ... You aren't going to stop digging until you've gotten yourself into a hole you can't climb out of, are you? So immature. Very well. Outside then?"
Professor Stroak shivered as the two left the room. One nearly glowing with repressed rage, and the other seemingly extremely bored. He'd seen what Saotome's son did to people he didn't like. There was never any evidence afterwards, but he was always so smug when they turned up in the hospital... But...
He had also seen, just now, the way the other Ranma had instantly sized him up as hi kicked in the door... sized him up, and labeled him as no threat whatsoever, even though he had just gotten up from nearly a day and a half of comatose state.
The entire lab had stopped their business to watch. All three people, the assistants and Stroak's pokegirl aide. The Tendo's and Saotome's were also watching though and while the girls were just going to enjoy the show, the men were plotting.
"Do you think this is a good idea Saotome?"
"Look at him! Look at my son! They could be twins! He's obviously a Saotome, other world or not, it makes no difference. You know how difficult it's been to keep the boy in line as of late. He might stay, but it's not likely. Once the pledge is fulfilled, the honorless boy will take his alpha and leave. His... friends have been a terrible influence on him. I knew that taking him on a training trip into the wilderness would be a better idea."
"I suppose... yes perhaps this way is best."
"So we're agreed. If this newcomer can defeat my son, we'll pass the honor pledge on to him."
"... I just hope your son doesn't kill him."
"Tendo! There was no proof of that... and it was only a domesticated pet. Not like it was human."
Soun briefly glowered at his old friend's blithe comment, but sighed and silently cursed the poor choices of his past.
The fight had begun. Saotome opened with a bellow of rage and a violent haymaker... which connected with air. He paused to gain his balance, desperately glancing around for where his opponent had gone.
He swiveled, launching a powerful heel kick at head height where the voice had come from. And no longer was.
"Far too slow, and your form is sloppy. I could have dodged that when I was six."
He roared and launched another set of wild strikes, sheer adrenaline allowing him to catch a blur every time hi missed, leading him to where to swing at next.
"I grow weary of this foolishness."
And with that, the new Ranma was on the offensive, and had grasped Saotome firmly by the throat, lifting him off the ground without seeming to put any effort into it. Then he snorted and hurled him away to land on his back.
Oddly though, rather than the rage they had all expected, Saotome suddenly smirked and broke out in wild chuckles.
"Perfect... you're almost perfect. With your power, I'll be unstoppable!"
Eyes widened as Saotome withdrew a small red and white ball from his pockets. One that bore the obvious marks of illegal tampering.
He threw it, as hard as he could, at the new Ranma, who simply blinked and mad no effort to dodge it.
Instead, he caught it, in his bare hand.
"Huh... the old man told me about these. It's a pokeball. ... I don't need it, have it back."
Ranma idly chucked the small sphere back to the origional Saotome, who's eyes had widened with horror, but like a deer caught in headlights found himself unable to flee, run, dodge, or even scream as it connected and he was engulfed in a bright red glow.
Both of Ranma's eyebrows shot to his hairline and an uneasy silence filled the impromptu gathering as the ball dropped to the ground, shook for a moment, and then came to a quiet rest.
"Was that... supposed to happen...?"
Alright, so it's not the greatest idea in the world. It just struck me that the pokegirl world seemed the ideal setting for darkfics. Once I was on that line of thought, I realized that Zombi Ran-chan would fit in pretty good if I tweaked it right.
The idea just wouldn't let me go... I'm sorry.
Anyway, those of you who've actually read ZR, or at least what little of it I've actually written, may have noted that he seems much more 'human' than he does in the other fic. Please bear in mind that this starts long after that one ends, if I ever manage to write it to the end, so he's not constantly in a bloodthirsty, berserking, 'VENGEANCE'! mode. He will have his moments though, of that I assure you.
Next chapter, we'll see just how well he takes Soun and Genma's little plan... or how not-well as the case may be. He doesn't want to be a tamer, remember?
Also, I don't intend to write lemon chapters at this point in time. Maybe I'll write alternate chapters with lemon in them, but if I do, they won't be posted on I'll probably end up sending them to A-kuns Pokegirl thingy if you want to know. But not anytime soon.