Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Sin City ❯ Chapter 7

I decided to change this chapter to make the ending more emotional. So I've altered it.

 

This is Bradley. The lawyer remember? The one who's been sent to track Meowth down? I knew Adam well enough to know he'd try to become a Pokemon trainer as soon as he left, and for that he'd need to visit a Pokemon lab to obtain his licence. In which case I checked the nearest one, in Pallet town, and was soon in front of Bill. His office clearly followed some internal organisation system that only he could decipher. I wouldn't let mine get in such a state. I did like his fashion sense though, even if it was too flamboyant. His conservative image reflects my own. I wondered how I would look in another's vision. Even in the confines of my own I appear to be yuppie scum, to express it bluntly. My jet black, slicked back hair and glasses combined with my Victorian Englishman's accent isn't pleasing to most people. They have a natural instinct to distrust me on first sight. It's a fake image but one that's tough to compensate for.

“You obviously don`t have Pokemon. May I presume that your not a trainer?” Bill asked.

“I don't think I could stand the pressure. Every other trainer I came across in the world would be a rival with the power to beat me. I would be forced to take on insurmountable odds. I couldn`t handle it.”

“So, to put it succinctly, why are you here?”

“I'm looking for a Meowth.”

“Any Meowth or did you have a particular example in mind.”

“There's a talking Meowth belonging to my corporation.”

“He`s already vacated.”

“Actually I'm looking for an associate of his, Adam Kails. If I find him I've located my real target.”

Bill's eyes narrowed.

“What's your interest in him?”

“I need any information I can get about Adam's current location. As I stated earlier I don't know a lot about training.”

“I understand that but what do you intend to do with him?”

“Look at me. As a weapon I'm as effect as a pair of socks. How do you think I'm capable of harming him?”

“Indirectly, by delivering him to whoever you work for. In which case I`ll be partially responsible too.”

“He stole something. Did you know that? I was briefed expansively. Meowth took Team Rocket's technical drawings for machines that we have patents on. Some of them the world has never seen. We want him back to give justice and retrieve what's rightfully ours. It's that simple.”

“Is it currently a crime to torture someone? To beat him?”

“It's not my business what happens to him once I've apprehended him.”

“That's what worries me.”

“I could get the same people who are capable of hurting him to pay you a visit. I…”

“9 out of 10 for effort.”

“I don't suppose you'll take a bribe?”

“Please don't insult me.”

“He could be hurt crossing the road, or changing a light bulb. No one knows what will happen. Your providing me with information could be the thing that saves his life. I don't even have poof that they'll hurt him. I'll argue for mercy on his behalf. Whatever it takes but I have to find him. My job could depend on it.”

“There's a man I know who works at Alex Staunton's gym. He's called Philip Marshall. You could wait for Adam to arrive, then inform you. You could be waiting for him. Against my better judgement, I've decided to give you his address.”

“Thank you. Words can't describe my appreciation.”

“Keep this in mind though. I'm a highly public figure in an industry that brings a lot of money into the government. If you harm him or anyone else I know I can assert pressure too.”

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So that's why I'm here, waiting for Philip to turn up. The deal was he was meant to phone me, meaning that something must have gone wrong with the deal. So I have to wait here, a place he seems to like for some unintelligible reason. Apart from the atmosphere, this place seems to be bad for my health. Even dressed like these punks I'm getting more of those “He looks like a back stabbing tax cheat” looks. My face just seems to attract hatred. If I don't leave soon they might start beating me.

“Ok. I know the owner. One of the back rooms, let's go” a voice whispers in my ear. As we leave I pray I'm doing so with Philip and not some prostitute, or, worse, someone who thinks I'm a prostitute.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

It's raining when Meowth and I leave the gym after my victory. I'm smiling though. I have my exciting new Pokemon licence. I keep Vulcan huddled in my rain coat. Since he's a fire Pokemon this weather is bad for him. Unfortunately my good mood doesn't last long.

“How did ya get on Heroin in da first place anyhow?” Meowth asks out of the blue. To say this is a difficult subject for me is like saying it's a little hot in the Gobi desert this time of year. It brings up flashes of memory that I would give anything to erase. My parents arguing with me all the time. Weeks of wandering directionless in the streets, in rain like this, searching for my future. What I had to do to pay for my habit, which is it's own set of painful things to recall. The slow dissolving of my self respect as I realize the world has given me no choice but to join the corporation. I feel pure hatred for my companion who would ask me these questions. My resentment is suddenly like scolding water boiling to the service. My grip on Vulcan is probably tightening threateningly but he doesn't complain. He knows the reason why.

“Let it out. Put it behind ya. Telling me could this is like reveal'en any truth to anybody. It destroy ya, but it could set ya free.”

“It was so fundamentally stupid…” I began angrily. “…I don't know why I didn't see how dangerous it was.” Now my rage fades to be replaced by a wave of self pity. Lots of waves, washing up and down. Sickening.

“I wanted to be a film star. I wanted fame, that's all.”

I was like some emotional kaleidoscope, speeding from one feeling to another. I was calming now. More scientific. Offering a rational explanation.

“It was an experiment that I was going to make a documentary movie about. Like that man who made a film about the effects eating nothing but McDonald's for a month had on his body. An exposure of the drugs trade. A study of the effects that using Heroin for 12 months would have on my body. `A year in the life of a drug addict' it would have been called. After it was over I guess I was already hooked.”

I though I had the rage under control but it had hardly started. It was spreading like a cancer through me. Chocking me. Killing my soul.

“My parents found out about it and kicked me out into the streets. If I ever return they said they'd kill me. I hate them too much to do it anyway now. They throw me out like I hadn't been their child for twenty years. Like I meant nothing. I'm their son! Their blood! How dare they! Then…then I had to go out into the streets. Alone. Doing things…I don't even want to describe…what…what I had to do in order to pay for what I needed. I didn't know what to do with my life. I had no friends, no love, no one to turn to, no future.”

I try to choke the subs coming fast now, the tears flowing like rain drops so sharp they hit like needles. However It's like putting my hands around my own throat though. It doesn't work.

“I tried to become a trainer. I found Vulcan abandoned by the side of a road. His owner didn't want him. He left Vulcan like the world left me, with no one to turn to. They wouldn't let someone like me get a Pokemon licence. That was worse. Even the people who make the laws that protect most people's rights decided to reject me.”

They start to dry up eventually though, my tears, and I can finish my story.

“You wouldn't have wanted to see me then. I'm bad now but I was in a worse mess then. So I joined Team Rocket. What other choice did I have? I wasn't living anyway. I wasn't even surviving.”

“I didn't know. It's ok. Shush. All that stuff…it's ok.”

He takes me into his arms. He tries to comfort me. I seem like his young child but I don't care.