FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Zacharias's face shone as he looked at the pokéball in his hand. He had shown them. He had shown them all. Can't be a trainer without a freely-given pokémon? Bull crap. Ha! He had lured the rattata in, waited, clubbed it, and caught it, all without needing his own pokémon. Not only that, but over the last few weeks, he had gained its trust. He called it Jerome. It seemed to like the sound of that, and they were friends now.

For some reason, Zach had always gotten along well with pokemon. The wild ones were generally difficult even for him, which was why he had chosen to trap Jerome, but those that other trainers brought to town to show off or battle with took a liking to him. Nicer ones, like eevees and their variations or growlithes, would play with him, and the less pleasant, like ekans and machops, would at least let him pet them. He liked to think it was because he was nicer to them. Whereas many trainers often began treating their pokémon like tools, he consistently treated them like pets.

And now the journey could really start. He could go to the gyms and take everyone down. This was a good start. A wonderful beginning. But... he had only ever fought one other trainer. He knew that Jerome was pretty beastly. They trained together, and the little rattata's strikes were far more powerful than should have been expected. The trainer he had fought had had a caterpie and a pidgeotto, both of which had been easy prey. It had pocketed him a few dollars. He needed more experience and more money, though, and he knew it.

Walking along the dirt road, he cast around for other humans in the head-high grasses of the area. Some untrainable bugs buzzed around and now and then another rattata or a prosaic rat appeared in the foliage, but for the most part, he was alone out here. The ambience was nice, at least. A cool breeze blew through the grass and sent it swishing against itself, and the occasional calls from different birds lit up the atmosphere with sound. It really was wonderful.

Zach thought back to a few weeks ago. It was his tenth birthday, but his parents couldn't afford to get him a pokémon to start his journey. He and they had known this might be a problem and they had tried to tell him to give it up. He could have been a historian or a doctor, or even, if he wanted to stay around pokémon, a veterinarian. They told him they could take out loans to pay for school and that they would, but a loan wasn't worth it for a pokemon. So, naturally, he broke into the local shop, stole a few pokeballs, and went hunting. And whaddaya know, world? He got one, anyway.

Suddenly, the wind went still. Zach looked up from the pokeball. There, in the middle of the road, was another trainer. He could tell by the belt of pokéballs strapped across the guy's bare, glistening chest. Zach knew this would be his next opponent.

They sized one another up. Zach had a pretty face at his young age, with long, smooth, brown hair down to his shoulders and bright, blue eyes. He was wearing a simple, green tee shirt and blue jean shorts in the hot weather and had his baseball cap turned sideways in case he ran into anyone. Which he finally had. He put on a smirk.

The other boy was possibly twice Zach's age. He was only a physically imposing figure because of his mode of dress, though. The onyx shorts down to his knees, the pitch shoes, and the obsidian gunman's hat with its brim pulled low over his bright blue eyes, which were still obscured by jet-black hair made that clear enough, as did the artist's shoulder bag that hung off his pokeball bandolier behind him. His small, bare chest was slightly tanned with thin patch of black hair and his exposed shoulders weren't brawny. He had no expression.

Poser, Zach thought. "Hey!" he called out. "You wanna fight? Just a friendly match, you know. Fifty bucks." He only had twenty, but he figured he needed to be someone's protege, anyway. A lot of trainers would take on helpers for a short time if a defeated trainer couldn't pay them, usually if the loser was significantly younger and he knew he could learn from someone older. "How about it?"

The voice that answered him was one that sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't that it had any particular, intrinsically spooky quality. It was full, broad, and unmarked by any defining scratch or whine. But it still made Zach want to run home. "You don't want to start your life this way."

Zach swallowed. What an odd thing to say. The breeze was still silent, and now his mouth was dry as sweat broke out on his forehead. He wondered what the other boy had been doing to start sweating like that. "That doesn't scare me. Come on, I'll take you on." His small voice was wavering uncertainly, but he wanted to be brave. Even if he did get beaten, at least he could get his first loss over with where no one could really see him if he did something childish, like cry.

"This is your last warning. I'm not someone you've ever met before."

"Jerome!" Zach called out with a sudden snarl, and tossed his pokéball with an expert flick of his wrist. It blasted off its own expelling force and fell back into his hand. The rat's purplish fur bristled as he bared his teeth at the opponent. "Come on, call out your first."

"Allanon. Come on out." To Zach's surprise, an abra emerged from the grasses and came to stand by the other boy's side. Okay, so this must be the favorite. Some people do that. Odd for an abra to be walking around, though. "You've just made a terrible mistake, kid."

Zach felt a growl rise in the back of his throat. Well, that was new. He had never been this angry before, or this frightened. Something in his opponent's voice said he was telling the truth. There was something wrong, here. Even the abra was weird. Most of that species were detached, anyway, because of the nature of their attacks, but this one... something was wrong. Even though its eyes were closed, as they customarily are, it seemed to be staring at him.

"Well, let's get this on. Jerome, quick attack!" Zach had learned early on that pokémon actually did better if not constrained by the common names of attacks, but this one was so useful that it was an idiot's maneuver not to use it. Faster than the human eye could follow, Jerome darted at the opponent, lowering his small, but powerful shoulder to bowl the enemy over.

Then, something happened that would haunt Zach for the rest of his life. An orange flash bolted out of the surrounding grass and tackled the rat. The opponent hadn't moved, and the abra was still where it had started, except it was now sitting and apparently asleep. A moment later, a raichu was holding Jerome off the ground with one paw clamped around his jaws as Jerome struggle and scratched against it. It took the blows without flinching. Its eyes seemed soulless and dead. A cold hand clenched at Zach's gut. "What? What is this? No fair! You can't use two at once! Jerome, use hyper fang! Thousand strikes! Anything! Get out of there!"

"Synapse. Terminate." The two words swept across the suddenly cold air between the trainers. The raichu's ears perked briefly before an electric crack blasted through the air. A second later, it dropped a blackened, motionless form from that hand, locked eyes with Zach, and went back to its trainer to stand next to the abra.

A high-pitched whine escaped Zach's throat and he sprinted towards Jerome. "Jerome! Are you okay?" He knelt down by the small, still body and cradled it in his arms. "Come on, buddy, snap out of it. You just got knocked out, okay? Come on, we'll get you to a hospital."

"He doesn't need a hospital." Zach cringed a the sound, then whirled his furious countenance towards his enemy.

"Shut up! You won, okay? Now get out of here; I have to take care of him!"

"He needs a shovel and a wooden box. And you owe me fifty bucks, unless you have another."

What? Zach choked on a sob he hadn't felt coming. "You're lying!"

"That thing doesn't have a pulse. It's dead. This is why you teach your pokémon to be independent and not assume that you know what you're doing when you tell them to attack. A rattata's nose is one of the most fine-tuned instruments in the world. He would have smelled Synapse's approach and avoided him. Unfortunately, you're someone who's only grown up knowing about systematic fighting and poorly-written literature about how we're all special snowflakes. Now that you've lost your first friend, welcome to the real world." He still hadn't moved. What was wrong with this kid? "You also owe me fifty bucks."

Zach couldn't believe it. Dead? No. Things don't die in trainer battles. Pokémon die falling off cliffs or from old age or in the wild. Trainer battles are heavily regulated practices that end in knockouts and forfeits. Tears began falling down his young face. "That's impossible!"

"Then pour a fucking potion on him and prove me wrong. I don't have time for this; I only fought you to prove a point."

Zach didn't have the money, and he certainly hadn't been able to afford a potion. And anyway... he couldn't feel Jerome breathing. The rattata... was dead. Through shuddering breath, he managed to choke out, "I don't have the money. I... thought I would win."

For the first time, the other boy's intonation changed. It became dark and ugly, with a sick kind of humor behind it. "You what?"

Zach clutched Jerome's body tighter against him, wetting the fur with his tears. "I- can't pay you. I can give you twenty, and that's all."

The opponent pondered this. "Hmm. I guess that means you have to pay it off some other way."

The younger boy didn't want to have anything to do with this opponent. Besides killing him one day. That would be a good reason to see him again. Other than that... it would sicken him, to be this kid's apprentice. "What do you want me to do?" He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Take off your hat."

Okay... he wants my hat. It's a pretty cool hat, but I don't have a problem with him taking it. He took it off and tossed it spinning through the air to the other boy. It hovered in front of him, then came back to Zach and rested by his side. The abra may have shifted half an inch. "I don't want your hat. Pull back your hair, behind your head. Like a ponytail."

Zach screwed up his face in confusion. This was getting strange. Also, it was always fun to hear what the world sounded like without his hair over his ears. It was louder, yes, but also clearer. It gave him a sense of power, which was nice in this horrible circumstance. He could feel some of his pain being muted and glanced over at the abra. Psychic pokémon were scary.

The other trainer raised an eyebrow at the glance, then frowned at something he saw. "Not what I expected. Take off your shirt."

"Why are you making me do all this?"

"Because you're down to forty dollars. I'm easy to please." He started walking forwards and finally took off his hat. Silky hair blew in the breeze that had started up again and dried the sheen on both boys and the tears on Zach's cheeks. "Take it off."

Zach hesitated briefly before letting his hair fall back down and gently laying Jerome's body on the ground. He then stripped off the cotton shirt, revealing a smooth, slender chest. He laid the shirt on the ground and looked up at his opponent, blue eyes into blue eyes. "What next? What am I down to?"

"Thirty-five. How old are you?" The voice was less vile now and far more intellectual.

"Ten."

"Thirty-four. How old are your parents?"

"Mom's thirty-two and dad's thirty-five."

The other boy crouched down and started inspecting Zach. His pokémon had followed at a bit of a distance. "Hmm. Have to make sure, though. Have you ever seen your dad take any pills?"

"Just vitamins."

"Are you sure they're vitamins? How many?"

"Just one a day. He says they make him stronger. I take different ones."

"Extra information won't pay off more. Thirty. Do your parents ever send you to play with other kids at night without telling you why?" He turned Zach around and started touching his skin.

"Yeah. This is weird."

"I swear on my life I won't hurt you. How often?"

Zach shifted unfomfortably as the other boy's fingers prodded at the small of his back. It felt weird. "Not too often. Once every week or two?"

"Allanon, are you getting all this?" he called back to the abra, who nodded. "At least you're honest." He lowered his head and whispered something to himself that he clearly thought Zach couldn't hear.

Zach proved him wrong. "What did you say about their sex drive? What is that?"

The other boy jerked his head up and stared for a moment before answering, but Zach couldn't see that. "Don't worry about it. I'm just making sure you're not getting overdosed on testosterone from anywhere. You hang out with a lot of boy pokémon? Or maybe uncles or friends of your dad's?" He suddenly touched the nape of Zach's neck with an odd kind of softness Zach wasn't prepared for. The smaller boy bent his head down with a shudder. This was almost like going to the doctor's office. He hoped no one came by and saw them; it would just be weird.

"Not really. Only when trainers come to town, and that's not too often. No more than anyone else. And I only have one uncle, and he's in another country. What's testosterone?"

"I'm the one asking questions. You're at twenty-five." He turned Zach back around and started feeling across his chest, eyes closed. His hand, which Zach saw was thin and delicate like a musician's, started at Zach's sternum and moved down, first. "When was the last time you had a check-up?"

"I... I don't know. Maybe a few months ago?"

"This is gonna be an awkward question, and I'm sorry to ask it, but have you ever had an erection?"

Zach's eyes bugged out. He knew what that was from talking to his friends. He didn't understand why it was a topic of such great interest to the kids a few years older than he, and certainly couldn't imagine what this kid wanted to know about it. "What?"

The other boy's cheeks flushed. His face was very close to Zach's. It was somehow... comforting. The other boy's black hair was kind of a like a shade on the bright heat of the day. "I'm sorry. Have you ever had one?"

Zach slowly shook his head. "No..."

"You're at twenty." He moved his soft hand up to the smaller boy's upper chest and collarbone, then briefly touched his throat. Zach flinched. "If you want to keep going, I have two more questions that can cut your bill in half. Is that okay?"

Zach couldn't really see a downside. He needed money to eat. He nodded.

The other boy nodded back. "What are your parents' jobs?"

"My mom stays at home to take care of me and my sister, but she works on the computer a lot. And Dad's a doctor, but he doesn't work for a hospital." That was why he never made as much as other doctors, he said. He worked at a laboratory, and sometimes he brought home cool pictures of pokémon in the midst of evolution as the biology and physics of different species were studied.

The other boy grimaced and kept his hand on Zach's chest, slowly moving it back and forth. It was vaguely soothing to the younger boy. "What's your name?"

"Zacharias," he said quietly, feeling tired after the pain of losing Jerome and then all the strange questions.

The other boy stood up without haste. "I'm sorry I did what I did. Jerome is fine. These three have been keeping him in a dormant state as close to death as you'll ever see anything. They kept him from dying just in case I had made a mistake, and I had. Anyone else, I'd want to hurt that badly. You... don't deserve that. Allanon?" The abra twitched briefly as a bulbasaur trundled out of the foliage.

Abruptly, Jerome drew in a sharp breath and coughed, scrambling weakly to get to his feet. Zach carefully picked him up off the ground with a gasp of overwhelming joy and held him against his chest. "Jerome!" he cried. "You're okay!"

The other boy moved away and started speaking with his abra, it seemed. A few words drifted over to Zach. "...erogenous zones too weak ... need more time... no source of excess hormones... should be careful... senses... augmented... those sounds..."

As Jerome slowly recovered, Zach got interested in what was being said. "Hey... mister... what was that all about?"

The other boy looked over his shoulder at Zach. "If you haven't started puberty, you're too young to have chest hair. That's all I can say with scientific surety."

That didn't explain anything to Zach. He looked down and couldn't see any chest hair. And what's an erogenous zone? "Well... what's your name?"

"Glen. Terrian. If you have problems, you shout that name as loud as you can, and I'll be there. You're not in danger yet. But things are about to happen that are going to make your life hell. You and Jerome keep one another safe." With that, he put his hat on, then he and his pokémon vanished into thin air from a mass teleportation. Zach was left to reclothe himself and stare in wonder at the memory. Too powerful. Too powerful to not believe. He would be careful, and he'd remember that name.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. Glen had reappeared behind him. "You owe me ten bucks." He flicked his fingers with the hint of a smile on his face. Zach quickly got out his wallet and handed over the money. Glen took it and vanished again without a trace.