Chapter I
By Cloudburst
1

I stamped my foot and shifted my duffel bag, trying to warm up. I, along with two other kids, stood waiting out on an icy path in front of a huge oak door.

I had arrived last, and painfully so, having slipped on the ice and scoring myself a soggy wet butt. But none of that mattered as I rubbed my hands together. I stood before the door of pokemon legend Professor Oak, and today I received my very first pokemon! I was the first to do so in my family, but I wasn’t scared. I loved animals and had always dreamed of becoming the best trainer ever known.

Dancing up and down to get the blood flowing through my legs, I glanced over the other two kids across from me.

One was a football player guy, probably still in Middle School. He was calmly standing in the freezing weather with a simple gray hoody on. His lanky worn jeans bore a huge gash at the knee, exposing his flesh to the harsh wind. I rolled my eyes at how these jocks could take this weather. I smirked though, as I realized they got sick a lot more often than I did. His short cropped red hair sat atop his tense creamy-skinned face.

The kid next to him appeared to be closer to my High School age. She was taller than the football player, making me the shortest person here. Also trying to be cool, she sported no hat atop her loopy black curls. Her brown face was pinched for one not so thin, but I guess it was because of the cold. She only wore a long brown evening coat with bell-bottom khaki pants underneath. Being a girl, her uncovered skin felt the sting of frostbite and she shivered noticeably.

I had to admit though; I must seem a lot more goofy to them. I wore a dark gray winter coat, with a dark-brown scarf and matching headband that covered my ears. My now wet dark blue jeans were shoved into my mid-calf, tan boots. I shook my head again. I just couldn’t figure out why they were so comfortable and I was still shaking.

I didn’t have any time to debate it as one of the oak doors swung open and a boy and girl rushed out. The boy came out first and careened into me, nearly knocking me over.

I steadied myself by grabbing the door as the other person slid forward a bit. Finally coming to a halt, he turned around and glared at me. I eyed him stupidly as I retracted my hand from the frozen doorknob.

“Watch where you’re going!” He screamed and spat in my face. What the heck is his problem?

“I’m so sorry, so very sorry,” I gushed, dusting some snow off his shoulder. He snarled at me (seriously snarled!) and backed off. The punk was no taller than I was. In fact, he was shorter, probably sporting a nice 5’2”. Who did he think he was?

Five-foot two, a mop of brown hair, white skin (pallid white), blue leather jacket, and baggy black jeans. Yeah, he definitely had something going for him.

“Next time you get in my way, I’ll slaughter you!” the teen called over his shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow at him before turning back around. The other two kids blinked before quickly entering the house as if nothing happened. Rubbing my hands again, I sighed as I followed them into the warm interior and exhaled gladly as heat began to seep into my body once again.

We stood in the middle of a plush hall. My feet sank into the red carpeting that ran the center of the hall, as a swirled mahogany brown tile texture ran each of its lengths. A simple mahogany staircase ran up to the second floor on my right, but it seems we weren’t going there, as the two other teenagers began to move on.

Unwinding my scarf from around my neck and pulling off my headband, I quietly followed their lead through the pristine white-walled hall. Comfortable once again, I glanced past the apparently other trainers strutting forms and laid eyes on the one whom had let us in. It was a simple browned haired lab assistant that was as tall as the girl was, but more muscular than slim. His hands were jammed in his pockets as he led us down the hall.

Making a face, I found myself smiling as I peeped through every open door. In one room on my right, a Flareon exhumed a huge burst of flames that left the room scorch-less. My eyes twinkled in delight at the fiery pokemon. The oddly placed metallic gray door was closed in my face as the testing continued.

“This way please,” the soft voice of the assistant startled me.

I felt my face turn a shade of red as I noticed that the whole party had stopped for me. I quickly looked down to the trim burgundy red carpet, as if I was fascinated with it. A few seconds later and the worn white tennis shoes of the football player moved on. I shrugged in relief and suddenly found myself extremely warm. Pulling off my fuzzy gray coat, I again made my way after the other two soon-to-be-trainers as they stepped into one of the numerous oak doors on the walls of the hall.

Nodding at the assistant, he smiled before shuffling off to continue on with his regular business.

Slowly turning around to survey the room, my mouth dropped to the crimson red and white tiled floor. Every single wall of that tiny room was stockpiled to the top with shiny red and white spheres.

“All these…are…?” the girl gawked at my side.

I, too, shook my head at the countless rows of poke balls. The only break in the cherry red and ivory white décor was the pale blueness of three square windows.

Swirling around in a circle, I took in the whole room for memory’s sake. One day, all of my pokemon would fill up this entire room. One day, that started today.

Facing back in front of me, my eyes finally settled on the tall form of our hero for the day, Professor Oak.

I returned the smile he beamed at us and hugged my coat to my chest.

“Ahem,” the professor cleared his throat. “You three are the last trainers going out this month for your pokemon journey. I assume you ran into the other two trainers as they left the house?”

I heard a snicker.

“Yeah, we did,” the guy smirked smugly.

I rolled my eyes before nodding myself.

“Good.” He walked over to the shelves behind him and pushed a button under the oak shelf at hip level.

As he continued his speech, a portion of the shelf slid out and two mechanical hands whirred about, searching for the orbs that would sit in the neatly grooved cups of the slab, “Welcome, my name is Professor Oak, and today is your day. Today I have for you the last few starter pokemon for your journeys.” With a wave of his hand, he revealed the three shiny identical prisms.

“You have a choice of one of the starters that Kanto hands out to all the professors across the country. Two have all ready been taken, but you have an equal choice at picking your favorites. It is all a game of chance so that no favoritism can be played.”

My heart sank a bit, but rose just as quickly with a glimmer of hope. Pichu. Please, I just want a Pichu.

Professor Oak eyed each of us nervously, as his hands went roaming through the numerous pockets on his over-sized white lab coat. He cleared his throat as he shoved his hands into his pant’s pockets next. I raised my eyebrow at his antics and turned to give a confused look to the girl.

The boy was leaning towards her, cupping a hand over his mouth. Whatever he said elicited a giggle from the girl. I rolled my eyes before shifting my gaze back to the elderly gentleman. Who was now shuffling through a stack of once neatly aligned papers on a window shelf.

“Ehm…heh-hm, it seems that—”

“My name is Apolline, Professor Oak, sir,” I bowed politely, interrupting him before he received more snide remarks from the peanut gallery.

His contorted face softened into a kindly weathered smile. A discreet bow of his head was sent in my direction. I grinned back as he continued his speech.

“Apolline it is then. If you would like to come forward and be the first to receive their starter,” he waved me over and I joyfully made a step forward.

As I reached out to the confines laid before me, a single chant was running through my mind, Pichu…Pichu…Pichu…Pichu…

Squinting at the bright red tops of the spheres, I finally reached out and snatched the center one. Walking back to the door, I held my first ever poke ball up to my eyes. The smooth curved texture of the sphere was cool to the touch. The middle, where the two halves were connected, was set back compared to the rest of the sphere, but just as smooth. A simple button jutted out from a half-circle cut out from each outer-half to allow the middle to surround it.

My finger just itched to hit the smooth white button and release the pokemon inside. Hopefully, a Pichu.

Glancing over the top of the orb, I watched as the girl walked back to my side, just as greedily clinging onto her first poke ball.

Professor Oak stepped forwards and nodded at the three of us. Without a second’s thought, I hurtled the orb at the ground with a simple underhand spin. It hit the tile with a Click and bounced up, splitting open in a flash of laser red. The ball closed and flew back at me, surprising me from its return so much so that it just bounced off me and hit the floor.

Blushing, I quickly squatted down and got back the poke ball before straightening up and taking my first look at my first pokemon.

My first ever pokemon, my loyal starter was…!!

Not a Pichu. I felt my heart sink for a second or so (who knows about those timing things!) before I was filled with silent wonder.

“Wow,” was the only sound uttered by our small group. I have never seen a pokemon up close before, and apparently neither has the other two in the room.

The pokemon that stood before me may not have been a Pichu, but it was a pokemon, and…well, wow!

The lizard-like pokemon stared back at me, its green eyes glowing fiercely. It blinked with its orange eyelids. Pokemon blink! Who knew?! Its tiny chest, only about as tall as my knee, rose in and out. It was breathing calmly, its creamy white underbelly rising gently with the intake and outtake. Its nostrils flared ever so slightly, signifying the rhythmic breathing. The pokemon’s orange paws/hands were clenched into tiny little fists, the size of oversized gumballs. The muscles running its orange arms shifted position, flexing them so that they showed the lizard’s strength. Its sharp, metallic claws on its feet showed eerily from under the pokemon’s shadow. The shadow flickered back and forth from the short orange tail behind it. The tail waved back and forth very slowly and deliberately. If I wasn’t so engrossed, I woulda sworn it was trying to move that thing closer to me. But I was too preoccupied with the swirl of flames that danced about the tip of its tail. The extension reached to a bit over its shoulders, issuing a yellow aura.

Wait a sec, the lighter the flame gets, the hotter it’s burning, so…

I jumped back in time as the posterior extension sent a flicker in my direction from over the creature’s orange shoulder.

“What the heck—!”—I thought starters were supposed to be very loyal to their trainers! So why did this one look like it was smirking at my antics?

“Yes Apolline?” I jerked my gaze away from the little arsonist to stare dumbly at the professor and two other trainers.

The girl was squatted awkwardly on the floor, her hand petting the smooth fur of a furry white and brown, squirrel-like pokemon. The boy was simply standing side-by-side with his loyal starter, an aquamarine-ish-green pokemon with a jungle green onion on its back. Loyal, yeah right.

The boy just shook his head, and the greenish reptile did the same, muttering something I couldn't hear. The girl still stared back at me with probably an equally as blank stare as mine.

The professor’s face seemed to accumulate more wrinkles; “You said something, did you not?”

I felt my face freeze as I turned my gaze on the smirking booger before me. Dang little rascal. I musta said some of what I was thinking out loud.

“Eh, Iyuh…just wanted to say thank you for this wonderful opportunity, Professor Oak, sir.” My gosh I sound like a dumb blonde. Well, at least the hair color matched.

The professor waved it off, “No more ‘sir’ if you’d please, and the pleasure’s all mine.”

I returned his grin back sloppily. Looking away from the professor, I found the girl had gotten up, and was shoving a crimson red art box into her simple throw-backpack. The boy now stood at the closed door, his hand on the silver knob.

“If there’s nothing else Professor Oak, is it all right for me to head off?”

The professor nodded his head curtly to the boy, “Of course. My assistant should be out there to show you the way out.”

Before he was even finished, the boy had turned the knob and was already out in the hallway.

Removing my gaze from the receding form of my soon to be rivals, I stared down at the knee-high menace. How could something so small be so evil?

Its face gave a menacing smirk in my direction.

“Apolline…” the Professor’s voice tore me away from my starter as I took a step back.

“Yes, Professor Oak?”

“You never picked up your starting pokemon trainer kit.”

My face froze in embarrassment as I noticed the small crimson art box in his weathered hand, identical to the one that the girl had. Moving slowly around the lizard, near, but not too near to his tail, I gently took the box from the professor. I shifted it around in my hands, thinking about what I was to do with this unresponsive tyke.

“Ehm, if I may suggest something?” Before I could respond, he continued. I rolled my eyes at his forwardness. “Charmander’s are known widely for their fiery temper. They are fierce, but only after some dedicated training.”

“The fire-proof lab room is finished, professor. We’re going to begin the transfer of fire pokemon from the rest of the lab into the room.”

I whirled around at the soft voice of the assistant that had seen us in earlier. A small idea popped into my head. If I remember correctly, the room was just…

“Well now that gives me a splendid idea!” Professor Oak’s mahogany eyes twinkled in excitement, his face losing a few years. “Why don’t we let the transfer alone for awhile? I think someone needs it more than I do right now.”

“Well…sure, if you want to…” the assistant’s voice sounded unsure. I didn’t care. My only thought was that I was to enter into a room where—what did Professor Oak call it? —Char-measle couldn’t destroy anything. This was my chance to see if I could wipe that wicked grin that was plastered on that little monster’s face! Those sharp teeth gave me the creeps. Oo, it was gonna be more like charbroiled weasel before I was done with it.

I zoned in to find Professor Oak steering Charmeasle and I out the door and to the right, “…you probably saw it when you came in. It’s the only metallic door in this whole place,” he waved his hand about emphatically. “I wanted something more subtle, I’m not one for this new metal phase, but they said that it was ‘standard,’” he made air-quotes while he now walked beside me. Or more like catty-corner to me. For being so old, he sure could walk fast!

“Ah, here it is!” the Professor swept his arm over the door like Vanna White. I smiled politely at the same metallic gray door I had slammed in my face when I first entered the plush lab. “Go on, go on!” he smiled crazily at me, waving me into the room.