All parts of this story may be found at http://www.freewebs.com/lethal_shinken
Note: Pokemon and its associated characters are copyright by Nintendo,
Game Freak, Creatures Inc, and 4Kids Productions.

Part 2 - Outrage

A lone figure wrapped in a purple mantle removed the headdress it wore and placed it at its feet. It raised both hands so that its palms faced the heavens. It then made two quick slicing gestures with its arms before dropping them to its sides. Simultaneous with this action a deep, terrifying roar echoed throughout the cave. The noise was enough to cause the cave to tremble like a single man caught in a snowstorm.

Unlike all others, within the cave or in a ten feet radius of it, the lone figure was unaffected. It stepped forward, so it was directly under a large crack in the cave's ceiling where a little light had escaped, revealing part of the figure's face. And one unblinking spectral eye.

“Time to play.”

*****

The light emanating from the solitary bulb in the ceiling cast a faint glow over the room. Books, videos, clothes and the occasional flowerpot had been discarded onto the floor to make way for two lumpy couches, a mattress and a folding table. As Brock sat on one of the futons, he stretched his legs as far as he could without knocking anything down. Despite all the traveling he had done when he was a kid, he truly could not remember being in a place as dirty as the one he was in now. Most surprisingly of all, its owner, Erika of Celadon City, had once been known for her tidy and well-organized nature. How ironic.

Brock looked up to see his hostess approaching, holding a tray laden with food. As she set it down, he observed that it was only a chipped mug of tea and some stale biscuits. Yet, he thanked Erika as she settled down on the couch opposite him, holding her own cup in her hands.

“So Brock, tell me again, why are you here?”

Brock gulped down some of his tea and placed it back on the tray. As always, Erika sounded both cordial and ladylike. But, even she had been unable to conceal the gleam in her eyes.

“To seek your help.”

At his comment, Erika felt her eyes moisten, as she reflected, “I can't help you. I have nothing. My Pokemon were taken away from me and all my trainers died when we were forced to leave Celadon by the League.” She stopped as she recalled dark memories that threatened to break through the strong facade she had built over the past few years. She shook her head, there was no need to remember them now.

For a few moments, an awkward silence stretched between them, as Brock pondered over her words.

“Not all your Pokemon.”

Erika smiled wanly, “I'm surprised you noticed.”

Brock shook his head in disbelief at her statement. The stench her hidden Gloom was emitting was so strong he was surprised he hadn't passed out already. However, the smell vanished without a trace after Erika had spoken. He guessed Gloom had recognized him too.

“To cut a long story short, you know of the League's abusive behavior towards Pokemon over the past few years ,” he explained, sounding both brisk and businesslike, “The reason for such violence and their treachery - after all, they were the ones who promised to always protect Pokemon – remains to be unexplained. They recently, after completely demolishing the old League Headquarters, rebuilt what they call the League Fortress in the depths of Victory Road. It is so well built and fiercely protected that we have been unable to find out anything about the League's activities, apart from what we can already see and know. You probably also have heard that there are many organizations who have been working against the League. The biggest of all being my own, Inferno.”

Erika nodded. Despite the fact that she knew very well what such societies did, which was all for the good of mankind or pokemonkind, she couldn't stop remembering that in earlier years the only other establishment who had dared make an enemy of the League was the now bankrupt Team Rocket.

Brock cleared his voice and continued, “We are both advanced and strong, with many men and women supporting us. However, in comparison with those who joined the League when it turned traitor – prime examples being Koga and Blaine - we have few soldiers who are strong enough to empower the League Elites and Trainers. My mission over the last few days has been too find the remaining Gym Leaders and Masters who may be able to help us.” He shifted his position so that his slitted eyes were now gazing intently into Erika's green ones, “When the League first started exhibiting, shall we say their 'true' behavior ...the Elite Four broke away from them. They split up and each Master went into a long exile – or at least that's how the story goes. No one knows where they went, but it is said they left a book full of clues of how to find them,” He paused, for a more dramatic effect, before finishing, “The one I just showed you.”

Erika felt the ray of hope that she had desperately tried to suppress all of these years – thinking that there was no hope left in this world, shoot through her, “So you're going to find the Elite Four?”

Brock rumpled his spiky hair, feeling slightly agitated, “I hope to. And I hope you will accompany me.”

Erika stared at him, shock overcoming her happiness.

“Why me?” she spluttered, “I told you...I'm useless.”

Brock stood up, smoothing the creases in his jacket as he did so, “That is not true. Being a Gym Leader you are still immensely powerful, with or without Pokemon. And you know a lot about the League which could be of use. And aren't you a Grass Master?”

Erika's eyes flashed for a fraction of a second, half amused, half annoyed, “Of course, I am.”

Brock drew himself up to full height so that he towered over her with a trace of his old smile, “What do you say, then?”

Erika smirked but then her eyes turned grave. Seeing this, Brock deflated and flopped down back onto the futon and regarded her with equally somber eyes.

“It will be a dangerous journey, if you do decide to come...” he trailed off and avoided Erika's green gaze.

She expelled a single breath, “You're right...But it's not about me, I suppose. A risk worth taking when it means saving the Pokemon.”

Brock smiled at her and for a few minutes the silence returned, except this time it was both warm and welcome.

Erika finally heaved a sigh and asked, “So what is it you plan to do, exactly?”

Brock cleared his throat, and his voice became matter-of-fact once more, “The first person whose whereabouts are described in the book is the Ice Master, Lorelei. From what I have deciphered, from the riddles and puzzles in the book, she has settled in the Archipelago Islands, a little south of Cinnabar Island. I've arranged for a car to take us to Fuchsia and I have spoken to a Bird Trainer from Fortree, who will be arranging some Pidgeot to take us to the Archipelago. It'll be you, me, one another Inferno agent and...”

“And?” Erika raised one slim eyebrow.

“You remember Ash,” Brock ignored Erika's gasp and went on, “He's back and very eager to help us.”

“Ash? Ash Ketchum?” Erika's eyes widened till they looked the size of cup saucers, “Didn't he go crazy shortly after he won the title of League Champion and Pokemon Master?”

Brock laughed, a bitter laugh devoid of mirth, “You could say that I suppose. He had many personal...problems at that time and his usual rash way of dealing with it was to wreck destruction wherever he went. However, he had other motives. He was truly against whatever the League was doing and determined to work against them. A few years ago, Ash stopped all this homicidal business and went into a long exile...well, I have no idea what he did then but I do know he's returned and wants to help.”

Erika shook her head violently, sending her hair fluttering round her delicately boned face, “No. No, Brock. You know how dangerous he is. Haven't you heard the rumours -”

“Look,” Brock interrupted, “I don't care what you or anyone else thinks, Ash was my friend and still very much is. And yeah, he's changed but who hasn't? On the inside he's still the same little boy he was as a kid. I'm sure you remember that time back at your Gym when he saved Gloom and even if you don't trust him, what about me...don't you trust me?”

“I guess I've got to,” Erika said stiffly, as she realized she was not about to have the last say in this particular battle, “But I still think it's too dangerous. He's rash, slow-witted, stubborn -”

“Powerful,” Brock pointed out, “And loyal.”

Erika sighed again.

“Where is he now?”

Brock raised one muscular arm to stare at the swanky black watch on his wrist.

“He's gone to visit Sabrina.”

*****

“Dammit, where's she gone?”

Ash spun around so fast, the black traveling cloak he was wearing whipped around him, making a whistling sound and hitting Pikachu in the face. Apologizing to his Pokemon, he crouched down and pulled out his weapon, a curved katana flashing red and gold, from its sheath. He turned at a slight angle, both feet directly underneath his broad shoulders and his katana lowered, ready to attack. His glove-clad hands began to let loose stray bolts of electricity. Pikachu, too, began to charge with powerful electricity, yellow sparks emitting from its bristling fur. Ash scanned the cave for any sign of the powerful Psychic Master Sabrina, who had only a few moments ago stood before him.

Abruptly, the ground underneath his feet began to tremble, knocking both him and Pikachu down. He watched in shock as a huge jagged crack appeared, splitting the earth he was lying on. He grabbed his equally shocked electric Pokemon and threw Pikachu into the air. The rodent-like Pokemon landed on a narrow ledge, eyes flashing and tail wavering. Ash back flipped once before deciding a sprint was the only way to avoid the numerous fissures appearing on the ground. As he ran deeper inside the cave, he heard the faint scamper of feet which he realized was Pikachu.

Silently he called out to his Pokemon and what seemed like a yellow bullet zoomed towards him before landing on his shoulder. It was Pikachu, red cheeks glowing and ears twitching. Ash heard a savage roar and twisted around to see an Alakazam looming before him. Unlike most Alakazam, who were usually only six foot in size, this one easily exceeded double that height and was glaring at Ash with fierce eyes. Yellow and brown limbs protruded out of its humanoid torso and in both its three fingered hands it held two silver spoons. Its clawed feet shook the ground as it began to approach Pikachu and its master.

“Sabrina?” Ash yelled, “Where-aaargh?”

Ash sank to the ground, clapping his hands to his ears as a terrible sound like a sonic boom rung through the cave. Pikachu had fallen from his shoulder and was in a similar state, scrunched up in a ball to avoid the racket, shaking the grotto.

“ASH.”

Sabrina's voice rumbled through the cavern, a hundredfold louder than normal. Ash rose, clutching Pikachu in one hand and holding his sword in the other.

“Sabrina,” he repeated, “Where are you?”

“Unimportant,” was her reply, “As long as you can hear me.”

Ash gritted his teeth and once more got into into his fighting stance.

“You want a fight, Sabrina?” he growled and his katana began to glow gold with electric power.

“Not a fight,” Ash heard and swung around to see that the Alakazam had stopped its charging, “But I do have orders to stop you.”

Ash's mind went into overload, as an image flashed before his eyes.

“From the League?” he spat.

“Clever boy,” she replied, her voice trembling with intensity, “Now witness the power of Psychic.”

The Alakazam raised its hands and the spoons in them floated into the air, bordered with blue. Before it could attack, Ash launched himself at it, delivering two powerful back kicks to its legs. The Alakazam groaned and the spoons dropped. Ash jumped back, flipping his black fringe away from his eyes.

“Why haven't you changed your Pokemon to robots like the rest of the League?” his voice was dripping with contempt.

“Now you're being stupid,” Sabrina declared as her Alakazam rubbed its head and picked up the spoons lying on the floor, “How would I be able to use my element to its ultimate if my Pokemon were robots?”

Ash ducked as the Alakazam attempted to hit on the head with its colossal fists and he used his remaining momentum to front roll forward, so he was directly in front of the Alakazam. He leapt up, and while he was airborne, body soaring in the air he managed to haul himself onto Alakazam's shoulders. Impossibly quick, he slashed the Pokemon with his katana allowing blackish-red blood to gush from two wounds in its skin. The Alakazam grumbled and shivered, causing Ash to fall on the ground and bruise his back against the hard floor. He barely managed to avoid having his skull cracked by the Alakazam's mammoth foot as he slid to safety.

“Why did you join the League in the first place, Sabrina?” he yelled, ignoring the huge boulders that were falling from the ceiling as the Alakazam hammered the ground with its fists, “I always thought you'd be the last to get involved.”

“It was foretold,” unlike Ash, she sounded calm, “Like many things, my joining the League was foretold.”

Ash couldn't help but roll his eyes, when unexpectedly the Alakazam lifted him up, a fistful of black cloak in its hand. Completely thrown by the Pokemon's action he dropped his sword, and heard Pikachu cry out in alarm as the katana landed with a metallic clang on the floor.

Once more Sabrina rumbled, “Witness the power of Psychic.”

All too sudden, the cave went deathly quiet.

Ash heard the silence broken by a shout that he realized were his own as immense Psychic energy shot through him and he dropped like a lead weight to the ground. Pikachu, was the same, protesting as pain overcame it.

Flash. Bang. Burn. Chill. Reek.

All five of his senses heightened to their ultimate.

A seventeen year old boy sits in a hospital, waiting. He lifts his cap allowing his black fringe to conceal the undeniable hurt in his eyes. His yellow Pikachu, perches on his shoulder, long ears drooping. People, around him, chatter, laugh, weep and go on with their business, uncaring for the young Pokemon Master in the corner.

Suddenly, a man dressed in a white lab coat appears before him, shaking his head.

“Doctor,” the boy asks, “Will she...my mom...be okay?”

The doctor, before answering, consults the receptionist and the clipboard in his hand.

“Mr Ash Ketchum?” he asks.

“Yeah,” the boy answers, in less than a hoarse whisper.

“Well, young man,” the doctor sighs and settles himself down besides Ash, “Try and understand. Your mother has PSO. A deadly virus.”

“And?” Ash's voice is dry with terror.

“Well, Ash,” the doctor frowns and toys with the stethoscope around his neck, “A cure has yet too be found...and Ash, anyone who suffers from PSO doesn't have that long to live.”

The boy feels his world shift from underneath him.

The doctor goes on, “It could be six years or six months. It depends on time. Now, you have to help her, young man. Her Mr. Mime is incredibly efficient and we are leaving her in its care for the time being because Pokemon are very dependable. But you must not show your sadness to her. You must be strong, for her -”

“What causes PSO?” the boy wants to know.

“Well, my dear boy,” the doctor runs a hand through his graying hair, “Ever since the League stopped using Pokemon to do any sort of job for humans; factories, chemists and other such groups had to stop too. Medicines and drugs were no longer tested on Pokemon so many of the medicines that were handed out were, what can I say, a little dicey. Your mother took one a couple of days ago for a sore throat and as it was not tested and contaminated she caught the disease.”

Ash says nothing and clenches and unclenches his fists, his mind concentrating on one thing and one thing only.

The Pokemon League.

Flash. Bang. Burn. Chill. Reek.

“I won,” fifteen-year-old Ash cheers, “I won! I can't believe it I won! I'm a Pokemon Master now!”

He leaps up in the air, forming a fist out of his left hand and punching an imaginary foe. Next to him a slightly tired Pikachu is sucking on its treat, a bottle of ketchup.

“Well done Ash.”

A spiky haired, tanned, slightly taller boy stands next to him, patting him on the back. A girl, with blue eyes and hazel brown hair grins at him and behind her a tall, brown haired boy is smiling.

“Thanks Brock...May, Gary.”

He hugs each in turn and then turns to his mother and Professor Oak who are both waving and congratulating him. His Mom has tears in her eyes.

As they prepare to get into her car and back to Pallet Town, where a party would be held in Ash's honour his eyes weave through the crowd as if searching for something. He finally spots the redhead who he had been looking for, jogging towards him. Her blue eyes seemed to be moist, as if she had been crying but Ash is too happy to notice.

“Look, Misty, I'm a Pokemon Master now! Aren't you happy?” A little late he notices the water trainer's funny expression.

“Uh-huh,” She toys with a strand of red hair, “Ash, look, congrats. You must feel real good.”

“Yeah,” Ash feels his shoulders droop and even Pikachu abandons its treat long enough to notice something is up, “Are you okay?”

Misty looks tired as she rubs her eyes, “I'm fine. But I've got to go back...to the um....Gym now. Okay? So see you...whenever.”

“What?” Ash feels nonplussed, “I thought you were staying for the party. Can't you get one of your sisters to look after the Gym?”

Misty shakes her head, vehemently, “No. I've got to go. Please try and understand Ash.”

“Understand what?” Ash doesn't even care about how harsh he sounds, “What's wrong?”

Misty bites her lip, “Something came up. I'll see you later. Bye.”

“What?” Ash repeats, feeling hollow. In shock, he realizes she is leaving.

“Misty,” he calls desperately after her, “Where are you going? Misty, please stay. Misty?”

Flash. Bang. Burn. Chill. Reek.

A thirteen-year-old boy sits on the sandy shores of a beach, drawing patterns in the sand. Slowly he is losing his patience.

“Where is he, Misty?”

The redhead next to him, shrugs.

“Maybe something happened, Ash.”

“Yeah, but,” Ash complains, “It's my match tomorrow. He was supposed to help me train.”

“Ash, Brock hasn't been back to Pewter City in ages,” Misty says sharply, “He wants to see his family. It'll take some time. Just wait.”

“Yeah, but...” Ash begins.

Misty puts a hand to her mouth, silencing him.

'Everyone's always making me wait,' Ash thinks. He gets up, struggling with emotions.

“I don't need him to help me,” Ash declares.

Misty is shocked, wondering why he has suddenly fired up.

“What?”

“I don't need you either,” he rounds on her, “I don't need anyone. I can do it on my own. Right, Pikachu?”

“Pika,” the Pokemon agrees in alarm.

“Let's go,” Ash says.

Misty watches in surprise as the boy and his Pikachu leaves. She decides to follow him and as she rises, she looks up at the sea. It is blue, completely blue and the sky is a mixture of pinks, oranges and reds. The sun is setting.

Flash. Bang. Burn. Chill. Reek.

A six-year-old boy sits in the small kitchen, upon the slightly cracked desktop.

“Mom,” he asks the pretty, brown-haired woman next to him.

She turns her head to acknowledge her son, “Ash?”

“Mom,” he echoes, feeling forlorn, “Where's Daddy?”

His mother who had been chopping carrots stop abruptly and stares straight at him.

“What?”

“Where's Daddy? My daddy?” Ash asks.

His mother places both of her hands on his cheeks. They are wet and make him feel cold.

“Ash, why do you want to know?” she frowns, “Who has been talking to you, honey?”

Ash answers in his childish voice, “People at Poke school call me names and hit me.”

“Hit you?” his mother's eyes widen in shock.

“Yeah,” the boy replies and shows her a black bruise on his right arm.

“What about the teachers?” she asks, waves of anger pulsing through her.

“They don't do nothing,” Ash says.

“Oh, Ash,” his mother clutches him tight. She is hurting him and groaning. He is scared and instantly thinks he has done something awful. He's only six, after all. He considers crying but remembers the last time he cried at school. A girl had called him names and pinched his cheek.

Freakin' crybaby.

Ash does not make a sound, thinking about the bad people who make his Mom hurt him and swear at him. His small hands clench into small fists. He wants them to go away. Correction. He'll make them go away.

Flash. Bang. Burn. Chill. Reek.

As he slowly regained consciousness, Ash was aware of the memories he had been re-living a few moments ago, blur and slip out of his reach. He groaned and attempted to lift himself up. The young Pokemon Master grunted as he slipped and landed on his backside. He cursed and looked round for Pikachu. The little Pokemon was curled up next to him, snoozing. Ash shook his head, and as the haze of emotions the memories had created lifted he sensed another figure's presence in the cave.

Sabrina.

She stood in front of him, face fully revealed allowing Ash a glimpse of her sinister brown eyes. Her luxurious green hair, as glossy as a raven's plumage, was draped around her shoulders making her appear even more witch like than before. Sabrina made a small gesture with her right hand. Ash's eyes narrowed. The sort old women use to ward of evil spirits.

Suddenly, he found himself and Pikachu knocked backwards, lifted off their feet and blasted through the wall of the cave. Ash yelped as his limp body slid to a stop on the cool sand, tiny grains of it poking at him. He spat out a mouthful of grit he had swallowed and got up, unheeding of the rain of debris and stone his fall had caused. Sabrina appeared before him in a flash of blue light. She regarded him coolly as he lifted one hand, ready to attack.

“Let go, Ash,” she said in her ethereal voice.

“What?” he growled, as bolts of loose electricity flew from his form.

“Let go of these memories that tie you down,” she whispered, “You must let go for they are stopping you.”

“Stopping me from doing what?” Ash snarled.

“From using your power,” Sabrina lifted one hand to lazily point at his own, “To its ultimate. Embrace the emptiness that will allow you to use your power at its peak.”

“Oh yeah,” Ash said hotly, “How do you know that?”

He had no time to answer as suddenly he was picked up and hurled like a javelin in the air, by some mysterious power, though Ash had a shrewd idea whose it was. He landed in the water with a loud splash and began to writhe as he sank into the depths of the ocean. In a dim part of his mind he half-welcomed the thought of drowning and such an idea became more and more comforting as he fell deeper down. The blackness, to him, was both warm and comforting and it didn't seem he had that much to live for. Maybe dying would be best...

Abruptly, all such feelings were zapped as his mind screamed at him and his lungs craved for air. He lashed out and struggled to reach the surface – like some sort of wild Magikarp. As Ash flailed and gulped down brackish sea water he was aware of a familiar, mouse-like, yellow shape leaping into the air. It's eyes held the look that Pikachu had when it was mad. Really mad. Lightening flashed.

And that's when he blanked out.

Notes:

Nothing much to comment on in this part...
But just so you know, Inferno is a completely made-up society that is not involved in any way with the Pokemon show or comics.
Stay tuned for Part 3. 
Comments and crits much appreciated. 
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http://www.freewebs.com/lethal_shinken