Other Fan Fiction ❯ Pokegirls: The Savage World ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

 
 
 
Pokégirls: The Savage World
 
Prologue
 
 
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All person, places, and events in this work are purely fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events present or past, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The opinions of said characters, and the events of this work do not necessarily represent the author's opinions on religion, genetic engineering, magic, or any other subject.
 
 
The CEO of GenCom accepted a cup of Thera-Flu from her assistant and downed it in one gulp. The hot liquid stopped her shivering, but she blew her nose before ordering, `Tell it to me straight, Jack. What is this plague?'
 
The young man adjusted his tie and consulted his PDA before replying. `Initial reports described it as a flu epidemic despite the sea-'
 
`Yes, yes, I know that,' Ball broke in. `Give me the latest theory.' Her office, though spacious, was sparsely furnished. A large plasma screen set into the wall was the sole source of light. A black leather couch stood opposite the screen and her own desk sat squarely opposite the door, midway between the two.
 
Jack pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. `To be blunt, it's us, ma'am. Dr. Bradbury's team has confirmed that the virus is our proprietary DS-4 strain.'
 
`The one used to create the Zoomorphs.'
 
`The third generation, yes. Dr. Bradbury believes that the virus somehow integrated itself into the genome and remained dormant until the Zoomorphs reached maturity. Now it's expressing itself by producing DS-4 virus in the lungs and expelling them with every breath. It causes flu-like symptoms in humans and…other effects, particularly in women.'
 
A particularly large explosion on the screen lit up the room. The reporter's voice filled the silence. `As you can see, some of the victims have acquired the power to start and control fires. Behind me are the remains of the BP station on-'
 
`Has Bradbury gone public with this? No, of course he has.' Ball waved one hand irritably. `It's the responsible thing to do.'
 
`I'll have the legal department begin preparing our defense,' Jack said, pulling out his PDA stylus.
 
`Don't bother. The mob will get to us before the lawyers do.' CNN's tally of dead and changed plague victims ticked up. Ball touched a switch on her desk and the screen went black. `Go talk to the PR people about making a public statement. I'll call you if I need anything.'
 
Ball opened the top left drawer of her desk once the door closed behind the young blonde. A small pistol lay concealed beneath stationary and envelopes. She set it on the desk and lay down on the sofa. The sun set while she slept and a crowd gathered below the GenCom building. Torches lit the night and hammers and bats shattered the glass doors. Ball woke to the pounding of hammers on her door. The mob found no live victim for noose or fire.
 
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Susan Griffin sat behind the wheel of her Titan with increasing impatience. Her lane had not moved for five minutes while cars breezed past to left and right. She had to attend the Horner presentation that afternoon, flu or no flu. Susan pulled a tissue from the box on the passenger seat and it joined the growing pile of mucus-soaked wads on the floor.
 
The little blue Audi in front of her finally inched forward. A slim red sports car cut in before Susan could lift her foot from the brake, literally ramming its bullet nose between the two bumpers. Susan screamed, `Dammit, you bastard! Get out of my way!'
 
Shining ice tore the sports car apart, scattering pieces of windshield and chassis across the freeway. Walls of ice cut off the lane to Susan's right, leaving just enough room for her to slide in and drive uninterrupted to her exit.
 
Susan checked her hair in the mirror before climbing out of her car. It had turned grey overnight, but a bottle from the pharmacy had fixed that. She could barely tell this shade from her natural brown. Now if only it weren't so hot; it was only April, after all.
 
 
 
Richard Lane's girlfriend emerged from her cocoon with soft golden fur and cat ears on top of her head. She'd collapsed across his threshold, feverish and coughing. The cocoon had formed shortly after Richard hauled her onto the couch. `Mrow? Where am I?' she asked, looking around.
 
`My place,' Richard called from the kitchen. `You've been out of it for two days. Are you hungry?'
 
`Starving.' Sarah padded up behind him on silent feet. Richard turned around holding a bowl of cereal. `That's not what I'm hungry for,' she said, sliding a hand down his pants.
 
Steve found them still entwined, nude, on the floor. He took one look at Sarah and burst out, `Dude! She's turned into a Pokégirl! Just like in those stories we used to read online.'
 
`She does look a little like one, doesn't she?' Richard absently stroked her hair. Sarah purred and shifted on top of him in her sleep. Her boyfriend turned back to his roommate. `She's kinda cute, whatever she is.'
 
`It's happening all over the country. Women are turning into creatures like her or worse! I heard one caused a ten-car pileup on the freeway by blowing up a tanker truck.'
 
`Wow…. You really think they're Pokégirls? What's the news saying?'
 
`Nothing yet. Some people think it has something to do with that flu that's going around. Some think it has something to do with those Zoomorphs they're selling. Some of the Pokégirls look a lot like their catgirl line.' Steve nodded towards Sarah and took a Coke from the fridge. `I just hope I'm lucky enough to catch one. I haven't gotten any since Amy left me last week.'
 
 
 
 
`Moridim Elohim…magranak Jahovin…Duradis Norva!' The very cinder blocks of the cellar seemed to shrink back from the terrible incantation. On the floor, the mystic design traced in blood dissolved into a swirling, misty portal. Shadowy figures flowed from the portal, twisting into bizarre forms shaped by no earthly laws. A terrible voice asked, `Why hast thou summoned us?'
 
`T-T-To destroy my enemies and grant me power over this world,' came the mousy mage's reply. His cowled robe swallowed him utterly. The beings he had summoned- the speaker, particularly- towered over him, somehow taller than the ceiling seemed to permit.
 
It laughed, a hideous sound that drove the mage to his knees. `Fool! Thine ritual was imperfect: thou hast no power over me. With the Gate is open, all humanity shall be prey for my brethren.' The creature stretched out one clawed hand and dragged the little mage into its maw.
 
The cellar door shot down the stairwell and shattered against the creature's chest. It looked up from its meal to greet the intruder and suddenly bowed with great courtesy. `Welcome, sister…no, aunt, I believe.' It clicked its claws, tracing some invisible line. `Yes, definitely aunt. You take after your father, my-'
 
`I know what my father was!' The woman snapped. Violet hair and black cloak swirled in a sudden gale. `And I know what you are. What are you doing here?'
 
`We were summoned by this fool.' It waved a claw at the bloody remains on the floor. `Now we are free to take this world.'
 
`This isn't your world,' the woman said. `You'd die without the Gate's influence on the laws of nature. You can't even leave this city, as my father learned.'
 
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A crystal cocoon shattered half a world away and a grey, shapeless mass poured out onto the office floor. It pulled itself into humanoid shape, with tearing claws and silver markings on its face and torso. The door opened and a broad-shouldered man stepped through, blocking most of the light from the hall. The grey creature melted into the form of a woman with violet eyes and silver hair. `Well, well,' the man said, `look what Winter's been hiding in here.'
 
The woman dropped to all fours and growled. The man laughed and reached for his belt buckle. `That cold bastard's been ignoring you, hasn't he, Rally? Well, Mark's got what you want right here.' His pants fell open and slid down to his ankles.
 
Rally growled louder and looked hungrily at Mark. Her desire was carnal in only the most literal sense- she hadn't eaten for three days in the cocoon. She tackled Mark to the ground as he laughed about her eagerness. Preternaturally sharp teeth tore open his soft throat and she drank in his screams with the rich red blood.
 
Winter returned to his office to find his partner crouching over Mark Davidson's body, tearing strips of flesh from his thighs. His torso had been ripped open, a pool of blood where the heart should've been. The liver was also missing and his intestines lay looped on the floor to either side. Rally's blood-soaked skin gave Winter pause, but she seemed sated enough to risk conversation. `I've heard you are what you eat. I hope it isn't true- Could you imagine having two of him around?'
 
Getting no reply, Winter set the remains of his meal- a styrofoam bowl of instant noodles- on his desk while Rally watched silently. He grabbed her battered trenchcoat from her chair and threw it to her. Turning on his lamp, he pulled a slim leather volume from the shelf above his desk. Rally watched the light shining on his silver hair for a while before falling asleep on the floor.
 
She woke in the back of a car, surrounded by books and artifacts. Winter swiveled the driver's seat around to face her. `How're you feeling? Do you know who I am?' he asked.
 
`I'm fine,' she said groggily. `And you're Winter, my partner in MagiCorp's Artifact Retrieval Division. Why are you asking?'
 
`You've been out of it for three days, trapped in some sort of cocoon.' He held up a crystal shard, the colour of amethyst though much harder. Behind him, the city's skyline streaked past, along with great black clouds of smoke.
 
`What happened? I remember coming in with the flu, trying to finish the report from our last expedition, but that's all.'
 
`GenCom's third-generation Zoomorphs happened. They spread some sort of virus; most people just get something like the flu, but some- all women- change into Zoomorphs or develop magical powers or go mad.' Winter jerked a thumb at the smoke outside the window. A garish orange light played on the underside of the clouds. `The city's burning below us. Every gas station and store is an inferno. MagiCorp headquarters exploded just after we got out.'
 
Rally looked under her coat for the first time and found the traces of her last meal. `Where are we going, and why am I covered in blood?'
 
`You ate Mark Davidson when you woke up. He probably thought you were like all the women changed by the plague: submissive and horny. Hey! Don't throw up on my books!' Winter scrambled to shove an empty bag into Rally's hands and turn her away from anything sensitive to water. He continued, `I have no idea where to go. Everything's falling apart down there.'
 
Rally had turned to the window, to face the setting sun. `West…something calls me west.'
 
`West? There's nothing important that way until you get to Asia. Wait a minute. Could it be your sister in Japan?'
 
Rally nodded. Winter pulled at his nose as he turned the car around in midair. `We don't have the range to cross the Pacific, and I doubt the airlines are still flying. We'll have to see what we can get our hands on in San Francisco'
 
 
Author's Notes:
 
Welcome to my vision of a Pokégirl world. This will not be the usual lemony journey through exotic lands to Tame strange creatures. This will be a journey through exotic lands to shed large amounts of blood. The history has nothing to do with that of the conventional Pokégirl worlds (so far as I can tell what that history is), but is something of my own creation.
 
Several of the characters in this piece are partly based on existing characters, fictional, mythological, or even historical. The resemblance between my characters and the ones they are based on is not necessarily a very close one. Please do not review to say that X is OOC, because it's not X, it's someone who looks and acts a little like him in much the same way that Marion Zimmer Bradley's Arthur is not T.H. White's Arthur is not Stephen Lawhead's Arthur, and none of the three are Malory's Arthur. All four are loosely based on the same original person, but all four develop very differently.
 
I suppose the best description of this fic is `meta-fanfiction:' It's loosely based on a body of existing fanfiction, rather than any actual anime series, hence the `non-anime' listing.