Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ 31416 ❯ Chapter 1

A/N this story is based on an entry to a guess-the-author competition at The Pokemon Tower Forum, so the story had to be short. I hope you like it.

31416

The Krabby wobbled lazily along the shore. Its young trainer, not far behind, was playing with the waves, running back and forth in rhythm with the ebb and flow.

"Krabby!" said the little Pokémon.

"What's up, Claw?"

Claw showed his trainer a bottle, evidently washed up with the morning tide. The clear bottle was stopped with a cork. It had something inside. It looked like a note--a pretty long one.

The boy's curiosity overcame him and he struggled with the cork until it came free with a loud pop. It was only then he realized that his efforts were unnecessary as he couldn't get the paper out through the narrow opening.

"Oh well, here goes."

He smashed the bottle, carefully removed the paper and started to read.

If you're ever invited to a wonderful cruise to Pokémon Dream Island, where you're promised the time of your life, then refuse. I went there and learnt the hard way. This is my story. I hope someone reads this and exposes the evil.

I, like all the others, was a Pokémon champion. I trained hard, fought hard, and won. I, like the others was invited onto a luxury cruise ship, a wonderful voyage, an island where dreams come true. I fell for the flattery, leapt at the lies, swallowed the story that I was receiving what I deserved.

The cruise was superb, for both me and my Pokémon, and all the other trainers on board. When we reached the island, we were shepherded into the facade of a hotel, where we soon learnt the truth. We were ambushed, captured, our Pokémon confiscated. We never saw them again.

I am now spending my days working hard for a meager living, a prisoner on a nightmare island. The death rate is high, but more people come every year, more fools, flattered into the trap. How they continue to get away with it, I don't know. Some think they send robots back to take our place. Yeah, right.

I find a bottle washed onto the shore. It has a cork. I hide it in my bedding. I write this note, seal it into the bottle, and cast it into the departing tide. I pray that someone finds it on a distant shore, for if it comes back here, I'll be flogged for sure.

"Whaddya think, Claw?" said the boy.

Claw cocked its head.

"We better report this."

"Krabby?"

The boy opened a compartment in his chest. From amongst the electronics he pulled out an antenna.

"Robot 31416 calling Dream Island. Do you read me?"