Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Lost ❯ One-Shot

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Lost


Before he could think, Brock instinctively screamed out in pain. He was sent crashing to the floor, desperately clutching at the bullets firmly lodged into his right arm and left leg.

“You found me, Brock. Long time no see,” she said coolly, although the hand she was using to hold her gun was visibly trembling.

He hissed at her angrily. “Why? Why did you kill him, Misty?”

Her facial expression didn’t change, not even wavering slightly. She had regained the composure she lost when he had surprised her earlier.

I can’t let her get away, he thought to himself grimly, fully aware of the searing pain engulfing his senses.

She tapped the gun to her chin, in a mock-gesture of thought. “Well, he was always a heart breaker, that Ash. So I thought I would break his.”

Brock didn’t know what to say to that. His former friend was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was an imitation of her; she had the same sultry voice, the same body that he had grown to lust after, but her demeanor was entirely different.

Misty forced herself to giggle at the thought of killing Ash. “I really enjoyed doing it.”

Brock tried to ignore her as he looked over to Pikachu, who had long stopped breathing. She hadn’t even bothered to battle it; she merely shot it once without a thought.

He carefully surveyed his surroundings: a dark alley with a dead end, and no way to crawl away to safety without first going through Misty. He couldn’t believe he had managed to get himself in such a situation like this.

She kicked him in the side viciously, causing him to double back in pain as he clutched that side too. She used this opportunity to grab his pokebelt, containing the one pokemon he had managed to bring with him.

“Did you ever wonder what would happen if a bullet hit one of these little things?” she asked, not even waiting for a response as she pointed her gun and fired at the ball.

She dropped it to the ground in front of him, the ball split in half unevenly, wires spilling out while buzzing with red sparks. Before he could cry out she stomped on what was left of the ball, killing whatever chances he had of possibly restoring the data stored on the pokeball.

He whimpered as he reached for the remains of his pokemon, its data erased, gone from the world. “Forretress…”

Misty howled at his pathetic display, holding her stomach as if it were the funniest thing in the world. She proceeded to kick him, causing him to shift involuntarily so that he was lying on his back.

Frantic and still in pain, he somehow managed to be caught by surprise as she straddled him, gun still pointed at him.

“Don’t you like this?” she whispered, rubbing up against him.

His body, wracked with pain, managed to respond to her in a very noticeable way.

She smiled wickedly at him, grinding against the new visitor to her little party. “Seems you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

He tried to push her away with his uninjured arm, although she easily repelled him.

“Come on Brock, I thought this is what you always wanted from me,” she purred.

He tried to look away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “No…”

She slipped her hand into his pants. “So tell me Brock…did you come here to find out why I killed Ash…”

He groaned as her soft hand began to slide up and down his tool.

“Did you come here to stop me? Or…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Or did you come here to fuck me?”

Brock couldn’t think straight, although he wasn’t sure how much of it he could attribute to just his wounds. He had always found Misty intensely attractive, although when he first met her five years ago she was only fifteen…and innocent.

Now here she was, pointing a gun at him while at the same time stroking him, in a dirty alleyway with no way out. Her face had hardened, her eyes looked dull, and her hair was a darker shade.

“Why…did you kill him…” he struggled to say, trying his best to focus on the pain rather than the pleasure she was giving him.

She smiled as she increased the tempo of her strokes. “He was in the way. My father wanted him dead. So I did what any good girl would do.”

He wanted to scream at her, proclaiming that Ash was HER friend!

“That boy always got into so much trouble. I think I might’ve loved him,” she said, tilting her head oddly at her captive. “I think I loved him.”

“Then why did you pull the trigger?”
A sad, small smile appeared on the girl’s face. “Because I loved him so much that it felt like he killed me.”

He didn’t listen to the last part as he roared loudly, climaxing from the attention she was giving to him. She rubbed him a little more before she released her hold on him, idly rubbing any mess deposited on her hands to her pants.

She looked out of it, as if in a trance.

“What am I doing…” she whispered, barely audible.

She looked at Brock, a single tear on her face. “Bye Brock.”

His body went limp; it only took a single bullet.

She smiled; he looked so peaceful. She turned the gun to herself and put it in her mouth, and closed her eyes.

“To be a pokémon master is my destiny!” Ash proclaimed proudly.

She smiled at him, and then smiled at Brock, who was also smiling. They were going to help him become number one!

And then she threw away the gun, her eyes and mouth twitching involuntary. She stood up, and looked at the slain body of Brock. The body really did look peaceful, she had to admit. She spat at him viciously.

“That’s what you get, pervert. I hope you rot in hell,” she whispered angrily.

She wondered how she managed to get herself in the alleyway. The last thing she remembered was drinking and then passing out.

I don’t know how I got here, she thought, looking around her surroundings.

“I must be lost.”


End