Hey hey. I'm new to writing pokémon hybrid fics, but not really. By not really, I mean go read my other work, Video Game. It has hybrids in it, but it's in the crossovers section. As for now, sit back and relax as you read the semi-darkfic I have unleased onto the world!


By Yoshiman


Where am I?. . .

Marcel worked on the Mewtwo project a long time ago. Very little success, as Mewtwo managed to escape. Where he was now, no one knew. But Marc had bigger fish to fry. As he motioned over his complex computer equipment, he studied the formulas that he had written in, only on their paper forms, making sure he had refined them to just the right balance. It was simple, really, no more complex than High Scool Algebra, but it was very new.

What is this place?. . .

Satisfied, Marcel returned to his work. He had worked on this project for a very long time, years, perhaps. He was the only one in his underground labratory that was there on a constant basis. Five other people worked on the project, as well as ten security guards that paid off officials that got too nosy. As well as other things. . . Word somehow broke out in the underground about what he was doing.

What's happenning?. . .

He checked the computer again. This time though, he was surprised by what he saw. He was about to call out to a collegue, when he remembered he was the last one here. the others had gone out for lunch. Or was it breakfast?

Anyhow, what he was working on now was working out very well indeed. Marc was also surprised it came about so fast after the last one. . .

"Computer, open balcony."

Instantaneously, the computer responded by opening the balcony view to 'The Room.'

. . . Who am I?. . .

The lab was indeed a sight to see. It was all underground, yet dry, and had a very nice cave feel to it. At six hundred meters below, there was still power in the station, though all was running quiet, save the doors opening to the balcony.

Marc looked upon his creation. Why he pursued such things, no one really knew but Marc alone. He had his own reasons. Ever since the Mewtwo Project, his desire grew to something more. . .

. . . What am I?

A Hybrid. A cross between a human and a pokémon. That was his creation. This one, obviously because of its purple fur, large round ears, and tail, was half Rattata, although its human aspect was it's bipedialness, height, and brown hair. Not bad for a beginning, Marc thought as he watched the creature in the watertank, but it was only because he didn't want it to escape the way Mewtwo did. . . he could still remember the screams. Great Lugia, he could remember the screams. . .

This isn't right somehow. . .

Whatever the reason, the fruits of his labors were finally paying off. The computers didn't show anything wrong with this specimen. This was going to be the perfect plan. . . nothing could go wrong now. Life was good. . . the world in the palm of his hand.

Chapter One

Run. . . run. . .

I repeated it loudly over and over again in my head, as it was one of the few words I knew how to verbalize. Finally, I had escaped from that prison the called a labratory. But I was being followed.

I didn't know where I came from, I just knew I had to get away, that it wasn't right. It took me a month, by their standards, to learn how to escape in the middle of the night. Since I'm part Rattata, it wasn't difficult to sneak off, just learning all the security mechanisms that I needed to avoid. I had no idea how they worked, but I could bypass them eventually.

It was a nightmare living there, though I never lived anywhere else. No one treated me with decency, with respect. . .

I might have thought that was the only existance, until I found their library. Not including the two years for a mistake to be made in locking my cage, (That is, it not being shut properly) It took me three years to learn how to read, and I found in the books themselves there was more to life than just existing. That's when I decided to escape.

I realized for a long time that I didn't know what to expect of the 'outside world'. Many of the books I read were on Physics and Chemistry, many more on Biology and Genetics. This told me of many things I had never seen before. And then there was this one book.

In the corner of the depository, there was a book that looked like someone was reading it every day, as the spine was folded in several places. The book wasn't on Sciences, it was about people. Just people.

It was just people that led me to believe there was a better life. And here I was, about to die so quickly as I had begun. . .

Suddenly, I found myself at the edge of a cliff. I came to a sliding stop on all fours, and turned around. The men were coming, and fast. I waited for death, or worse, returning to the lair.

Almost as suddenly, from around the cliffside came this giant beast, one I never saw in any of the Biology books, and nearly scared the living daylights out of me. I would have run again, if I hadn't been paralyzed with fear. Did they have monsters at their disposal to recapture me?

The beat came to a grinding halt on it's round, black feet, and it's side opened up. A man stepped out of the creature, an old man, about as tall as I was standing up, with a black shorthair beard and was wearing a green coat. I read about clothes in that people book, but never saw them wear anything but labcoats. He also carried a large, wooden staff. And. . . unlike the other men, he didn't look hostile.

"I've found one of you after all," he said, looking at me. "Quick, get in."

I was stunned moreso than when I had first saw him coming. He motioned towards the beast, and out of respect, obeyed his command.

The thing I climbed into was no beast after all; it was a machine. There was glass to see out of on the front, where I could see the other men approaching us. Instinctively, I ducked my head so they couldn't see me.

"Professor Jones." One of them said, "You have the Rattata Hybrid. We saw you."

"And what of it?"

"He belongs to Cameraeon Co. If you take him, you're a theif!"

The old man gave out a mighty laugh, "Cameraeon Co. isn't even recognized by the government! You raise money by performing covert operations to pay the expenses to your projects. Even if I am stealing, you can't rightfully prosecute me!"

"True. . . but we can kill you. Men!"

I looked up to see what was happenning. The security guards advanced, but the old man wiped half of them out with a swift swing of his staff. Then, planting the rod in the ground, he used the leverage to put force behind his next three kicks, effectively disarming the man that accompanied them.

"Err. . . " He other man said, "You'll never get away with this!" He then turned tail and fled.

The old man who saved me climbed into the carraige and shut the door.

"You'd better put on the seat belt." He said to me, and when I only gave him a blank look back, he continued, "You don't know what it is, do you?" The man reched ovr me and strapped a cloth cord across my waist and chest.

Memories flooded back to me about being strapped down for experimental purposes, and I unconciously attempted to fight it. "Woah, take it easy!" the man exclaimed, "I'll just drive extra carefully. . ."

I never wanted to offend him, but it felt much better with the belt off that it was on. I pulled my legs up on the seat with me. Abruptly, I was startled by a loud noise staring up as the old man was seemingly trying to start the machine again, but this time I restrained myself. Knowing what he was doing, the man turned the vehicle around and started it forward.

"You talk?" The man asked me a moment later. "Yes. . ." I replied, as I could also say that word. I stared absently at the back of my right hand, which had a scar cut into it. It almost looked like something. . .

"Do they give you a name?"

I wasn't listening that time. I rotated my hand clockwise to get a better look at the scar. I knew what it looked like. . .

"Seventeen. . ."

"Seventeen? Just the kind of name they might give someone like you."

I was startled by his response, and immidiatelly started paying more attention to him.

"From now on, I'll just call you Steven, alright?"

I didn't reply, and it seemed as though he didn't expect me to. I wondered. . . "What's. . . your name?" I asked him back.

"I have no idea if you just realized what you said, but people call me Max."

"Max. . ."

The man looked astonished to find out that I knew so much. "What'd they do to you in there?"

I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. I didn't want to think about it.

"Alright, Steve, I'll give that to you. Anything you want to tell me?"

Again I didn't want to say anything, but was compelled to reply nonetheless. "I. . . don't want to. . . go back." I noticed my voice waivered, but at that time I didn't know much about talking anyway.

"I understand completely." He assured me, "You don't have to."

Obviously he didn't understand the level of my intellect surpassed my ability to speak, but I decided not to bother. I brought my legs up to my chest and grabbed hold. I was trying not to mull over my past, but it was happenning anyway. I was crying.

It wasn't openly, I was just tearing. What this man, wanted, I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I was out of my prison, and that's all I cared about.

I took another look at my rescuer. He was wearing a green jacket and blue jeans. . . some kinds of clothes that I read about in the people book. I didn't know why people had to wear clothes. They all seemed to. I never considered myself people anyway. What was I? I never had seen anyone else that looked like me. I saw some that looked sort of like pokémon (I learned that in the biology books) such as myself. . . but I never read of them. Is that why I was in the lab? I didn't know why that thought crossed my mind. . . it started me thinking of the labratory again.

To many other people, it might have been odd how I 'thought', as I couldn't say many of the words I knew. It was almost like reading them, as a deaf person might do. Naturally, took a little more concentration, especially when I tried to comprehend what others said. Phonics weren't very easy to do when you rarely get to hear people speak.

I looked outside. There was water hitting the glass wall. I read about it once. . . it was called rain, as I recalled. Rain. . . I never could understand it. Water doesn't fall from the sky. . . it's not right. And yet here I was, looking at it.

I heard a click from Max's direction, and there were rods that appeared on the outside of the glass that wiped away the water, probably to clear the view. Max seemed intent on watching where he was going at all time. Was it that hard to do? It didn't look very hard. . . maybe he was just practiced at it.

For some reason, I got curious, and looked behind the chair that I was sitting in. There was another row of seats, and stacked there were some books.

Books! To Max's surprise, I almost leaped into the back seat and started reading one of them. I didn't really understand it. It had things in it I didn't understand, like 'government' and 'economics'. And I just scanned the first page.

"What're you doing?" Max looked into the mirror mounted on the glass. "You can read. . . amazing." I didn't know what the word 'amazing' sounded like, but he seemed to know I shouldn't be able to read. Who was he, really?

I dropped the book and looked for one that I might know something about. Another was about 'war', and another about 'religion'. I never knew subjects ranges farther than the siences, most of which still went over my head though I was practically raised on them.

Then I finally found another book about people. I took it and climbed back to the front seat. This book was about many things that weren't in the other people book. . . I read on the inside cover about it being a 'mystery', though I had no clue what that was. I just wanted to read about people.

There were a lot of new words I hadn't seen before. I knew 'murder' was something bad, as a guy did it and all the other people were after him. Was that what the other people were after me for? I didn't think so a while later, as murder also had to do with blood.

The story kept referring to an Issac Kindowiel. I assumed that he was a good guy, because is kept talking about him. He was after the man who did the murder, but no one knew who the man was. Issac wanted to know, so he tried to figure it out. It was like a puzzle, only the peices were hidden, and you had to be smart to put them together. The book told of many different people as 'suspects', who were people who might have done the 'murder'. I still had no clue what murder was at this point, until they mentioned death.

I read of 'death' in a biology book, and didn't understand what it meant. I caould make a few guesses, and I thought the closest was an 'end' of some sort. It seemed to be bad in this book, but the biology books glide over it as though it were natural. Maybe it was natural. . . but why was anything natural so bad?

"Enjoying that?" Max asked me. I looke up from the book to look at him, but his eyes were still afixed on the road. I didn't respond. I was trying to figure out the word 'enjoying'. "Enjoying?" I tried to ask, and he got what I meant.

"Enjoy. . . To receive pleasure or satisfaction from."

I didn't know any of those words. They seemed to be indicating something good, and yet I didn't know how they supposedly sounded at all. I still didn't reply.

"Can read, but you can't talk. . . there's more to you than meets the eye."

I wish I knew what he said.

We arrived at a house. It was sort of like one described in the people book, and after seeing it, I realized that some of the descriptions now made sense, and some of the words did, too. I couldn't think of them at the moment, but they made sense.

The house was pretty big, by the standards in the people book. It had to be at least eighty by three hundred feet (assuming I was six feet tall standing), and three floors high. It looked, to use the slang term, 'cool'. I had my head out the side window to get a better look. Way out. Th only thing not out the window was my legs and tail.

"Steven, get back in here!" I sat back down. My hair and fur were wet from the rain that was still falling. Not very wet, just a bit moistened. The window rolled up automatically as Max pushed a button on his armrest. (I read the vehicle owner's manual. It was easier that most other books, because it had pictures.)

The jeep rolled up into a small enclosed space inside the building. Max pressed a button iver his head, and a large door shut behind us from the top down. Then it got dark. Max got out of the car, then went to a side wall and flipped a switch that made some lights flash on, then off. "Great, blew a bulb." He said. (I didn't udestand what he meant. Did something good happen?) "Come on out." He called me.

You might be wondering how I could understand some of the words. It just so happened that back in the lab, they tought me commands. Several commands, though I never tried to speak any until I found the library. The time I first tried to speak them is an entirely different story.

I crawled out of the car. I could see a light from a door opening, and quickly went to it.

Inside there were a lot of things I had neveer seen before, but Max was motioning to me an 'eventually'. He also wanted me to follow him to a room.

In the room there was nothing but the carpet, the white walls and a lone window. I noticed Max was carrying a clipboard and a pencil, the same ones the people at the lab had. "Now Steve," He said, "I'm just going to be checking your general health. I know the doctors at the lab might have been doing the same thing as this, but trust me. This won't hurt."

Trust. I recognized that word as soon as I heard it. I trusted Max, especially after he rescued me. But I didn't respond. I just sat there and waited.

He was right. It didn't hurt, but he checked all too much around the areas I considered private. It also took a long time. He wrote down lots of notes, and even went back for more paper. I caught a glimpse of a few of the notes: 'Front leg muscles extend farther up than the mid thigh, probably for use as bipedial or quadriepedial; Tail is partially prehensile; Hasn't reached puberty yet, assuming will when/if evolves into Raticate; Deficient in several nutrients'; and so on. "I'm not exactly a doctor," Max said, "But I know enough. Now let's get you some clothes."

Clothes? I didn't want clothes. Did I? Maybe I did. . . I never considered it. I mean, me in clothes? I supposed I was going to be staying for a while, So I waited in that room for a moment. Max brought in a t- shirt and some blue jeans and another pair of shorts. He had to cut holes in them for my tail.

I soon found out I didn't like clothes. They were too restrictive, and I couldn't foot-scratch behind my ear with them on. I'm glad he didn't make me put on shoes.

Max wanted me to stand upright. I could do that, even if I was more comfortable on all fours. He told me something about it helping something, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. I did understand it when he asked me if I was hungry. I was.

Max told me that he wouldn't bother teaching me about using a 'fork', mainly because I would probably prefer eating any way I wanted. I still didn't see why I had to wear clothes, though. He told me I'd find out in 'due time'.

The food he served looked weird. He said he didn't have any pokémon food, as he was never a trainer when he was a kid, but he did look up in some books about rattata 'diets'. The food they gave me at the lab didn't tase like much of anything, but this actually tasted pretty good. It was the first time I had used my taste buds in a while, the last time was a few weeks ago when I got some of my own blood in my mouth. The tasted bad. Max was taking more notes on my behavior while I was eating. It was starting to annoy me. Anything better than the lab, I supposed. I thought he might find it unusual to him that I liked to eat without hands and my dish on the ground. I didn't find anything unusual about it. The others at the lab ate like this, too. Of course, I never saw the doctors there eat.

After the food Max told me he was going to teach me how to speak, but before that, how to write. Write, as in put words down on paper myself. I was pleased by that. I wanted to write something so I could tell him things about the lab.

The first hour was spent trying to get me to hold a pencil, until he decided I was probably left-handed, whatever that was. He put the pencil in the hand opposite the one I was trying it with. It seemed a lot easier.

Max showed me how to draw the letters quickly. He said that they didn't have to be 'perfect' at all, just 'legible'. My first few attempts were not very good, but after a bit I got used to how they were supposed to be. It was then I fond out it was a little hard to recall some words that I knew, but I managed. Max said I was very good at it for being self-taught.

Sometime during the middle of the session, Max taught me how to use the 'facilites'. I'll refrain from elaborating.

Max then started teaching me to talk. He wrote down phonetic symbols and told me how to use them to pronounce a word. Some of the letters, like A, E, I, O, and U had a lot of different forms. It was confusing. It took me a while to get halfway done.

The light was dimming in the window. Max said it was getting late, and we should 'turn in'. I found out that meant going to sleep. Max said I could take off my clothes for that. I asked him why bother putting them on. He said I'd find out. He brought in a mat and a blanket, and told me they'd help me keep warm, because it got cold during the night. I said I would manage, but he insisted. The mat and blanket added to the scenery in the blank room, anyway. He told me to have a good night. I said I would. Max flipped the light switch, and the bulb on the ceiling turned off, and the room was enveloped in darkness. I had no idea what to do with the blanket, so I just curled up and fell asleep.


Like? Review! I'm trying to be original here, thogugh I have the worst feeling that someone's beaten me to this. . .