The life of an Avenger
The story takes place in one of Kanto’s renowned Ghost Pokemon cities, Chris Bagwell and his grandmother, Tia Bagwell, are living a peaceful life in Lavender Town when one day a letter arrives, it may as well be the last letter that they both read…
A group of antagonists who call themselves Team P.O.A.C.H (Perilous Organization Administered for Creating Havoc) rob the pewter city museum. When our protagonists’ grandmother, Tia Bagwell, dies in attempt to stop a member of team Poach, Chris Bagwell vows to avenge his grandmother, carefully heeding for any signs of the wretched Organization.
Hot tears rushed down the side of Chris Bagwell’s pale face. He couldn’t believe his grandmother; a person he had been very close to – considering he didn’t have a mother or father – had departed this miserable world. If Chris were to look at the bright side, as he was a very positive person, he would’ve said that his grandma was better off when she were dead, better off without the burdens and terrible ordeals she had to face when she was still alive, unfortunately, this trait of positive-ness was no where to be seen. As if it hid under a great mattress, tucked away with all his other good traits, which seemed to have been dispelled for the moment. All that was in his heart now was sadness and grief. It was true that on other occasions Chris would be heard joking about death, making clever statements.
“I find it ironic that it’s the living people who cry for the dead when infact the dead should be crying for the living. People don’t realize how really miserable and terrible this world is, full of hate and war. At least the dead don’t have to deal with people like Mrs. Angela, eh?”
To this all his friends would laugh heartily, admiring his cleverness.
Mrs. Angela, his former high school teacher who taught at the Pokemon Academy, was an over – strict battling teacher that enjoyed giving students a good whack on the back – side.
Chris looked down at his jet black Armani shoes that rested on the dewy, wet grass. He was dressed very formally in a striped, black and grey suit. He wore a black tie making him look very much like a dully colored painting. He wasn’t to blame for his gloomy and boring outfit; it was, after all, his grandmother’s funeral. He was usually a very fashionable person, like his grandmother, who had a very creative way of carrying her pokeballs.
“I don’t see why I need to wear a belt just to carry my Pokeballs when I could just be creative and stand out a little by doing this.” She said, displaying her Japanese – style hair pins that pierced through her hair, which was all held up in bun, cross – haring and forming a kind of “X”. At the ends of each stick – like hair pin, was a pokeball, defying the laws of gravity and miraculously dangling from the protruding pins. It so happened that Mrs. Tina Bagwell, being the creative and fashionable person that she is, added bits of metal to the ends of the hair pins before magnetizing them. She then magnetized most of her pokeballs and placed them on the tips of each end. This not only gave her the look of a living windmill tower, but attracted many eyes and what was later to be known as “The great fad of 2007”
More tears streamed down Chris’ face when he remembered this, laughing despite himself. She was quite a character, she was. As more and more memories flashed through his brain the inevitable event of her death, which occurred about a week ago, came to his attention.
It was a typical gloomy and dull day in the streets of Lavender Town when suddenly news from a post delivery bird - a Pidgey, arrived at Chris’ humble esteem. His grandma eagerly tore open the paper reading through it with growing anxiety clearly displayed on her face.
“What is it?” Chris asked his grandma curiously, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a letter from Pewter City; they need me at city hall right away. Something about a robbery at the museum.” She mumbled, getting up and snatching a blank paper from the confines of her drawer. She then picked up a pencil and started to ply, furiously scribbling a reply letter. After a couple of minutes she was done, holding it up and proof – reading it as if she was admiring a work of art. Finally, satisfied with what she had written, she called upon the Pidgey and placed the scrolled up letter in its beak.
“Right,” she said, looking very sternly at me. “We’re headed to Pewter.”
It was a long and grueling trip to Pewter City, upon arrival Chris and his Gran immediately set off to the museum. Once there, they were briefed about what had happened and told that a Moon stone, and a couple of very valuable fossils, had been stolen by a man, around six foot high - about Chris’ height. The curator, a stout, chubby man, also added that the culprit had blonde hair and was wearing a black leather jacket with the words “P.O.A.C.H” in red, imprinted on the back.
“He headed into Viridian forest,” said the nervous looking curator, “you might be able to catch him if you hurry, he just got away about two hours back.”
“Thanks for the information. I’ll do the best I can.” Said Tina, looking very serious for a short wrinkled old lady. Even though she was about fifty years older than Chris – who was nineteen – she still had enough gusto in her to battle and aid others.
With that, they set off into Viridian forest, evading all the Pokemon, focusing on their target.
Viridian forest was peaceful and full of bug Pokemon, the sounds of peaceful Butterfree and Pidgey chirping engulfed the forest. Chris trudged on behind his grandmother, rushing his hands through his jet black hair, looking around nervously for any signs of the enemy.
“No need to worry,” Tina said, as if she was reading his mind, “we’re safe, for the moment...”
Suddenly, with a swift movement of her hands, she pulled a pokeball away from the magnetic field of the hair pins and pressed a button. There was a flash of white light and in the same instance a huge black hound with white stripes running across its over – belly and graceful, arching horns materialized.
“Houndoom, you know what to do.” She said confidently, observing the large hound sniffing zealously, trying to pick up a scent.
“I never knew Houndoom’s could track!” said Chris in awe.
She chuckled happily. “When you’ve been training Pokemon for over fifty years, training a dog is a piece of cake.” She said with a grin on her face.
Chris wondered what the dog could smell; he’d heard that dogs had a nose a hundred times more sensitive than a humans’. Whatever it was, he was sure it was pleasant. From Chris’ perspective Viridian forest smelt of lush green grass and colorful flowers that perfumed the air with their unique scents, it smelt like one of those organic flowers you would buy from the market on Valentines Day, but only better. The forest was bustling with life, Caterpies, Metapods, Butterfree and numerous other Pokemon inhabited the warm, welcoming and stupendous nature of viridian forest.
The Houndoom suddenly stopped sniffing, stifled up and raised a paw towards the north.
“Follow me and stay close.” She said beginning to run swiftly through the forest with Houndoom at her side. She ran with great speed for someone at the age of sixty nine. Chris was barely keeping up.
“Hurry Chris!” she shouted back, “We don’t have any time to lose!”
“I’m coming” he mumbled, running after her.
They sped through the forest for hours and hours, occasionally taking long breaks and admiring the forest scenery. Finally, after a long run, they reached a clearing and saw a man walking slowly, as if he was innocent and didn’t look at all worried about being captured. He wore a black leather jacket and had dirty blonde hair.
“Gran, I think that’s him” Chris said, huffing and puffing from all the running he had been put through.
“Shh!” she snapped, “We have the element of surprise.”
Slowly, following his grandmother’s lead, Chris took a step forward.
He was thrown up into the air and cocooned in a sticky net that now dangled from a tree.
His grandmother turned around and ordered Houndoom to set him free. Houndoom took a breath, preparing to spit a ball of fire at the piece of silky thread that connected the net to the branch of the tree.
“I don’t think so” whispered a hoarse voice, “Beedrill, Pin missile!” The man who was just recently walking away ordered, startling Chris. Although, his grandmother, who kept calm and didn’t look startled at all, ordered Houndoom to use flamethrower on the oncoming Pin missile attack.
The missiles pierced through the air in swiftly, getting closer and closer. Sure enough, a merciless ball of fire sped through the air and burnt the helpless pins into smithereens.
Even though Chris was sure all the poisonous needles were destroyed, he suddenly started to feel drowsy and had this irresistible urge for sleep. He knew it sounded crazy, his life being at risk and him thinking of sleep, but he didn’t care anymore, he closed his eyes, looking at a large tree that stared him in the face, it was all going away… his eyelids closed slowly but surely, purging him of all his responsibilities for the moment.
He awoke in what seemed to be hours of slumber and was shocked to see Houndoom, a Pokemon that he had great respect for, bound and gagged with what looked to like a fire – proof cloth.
The man cackled delightfully, in an evil manner, remembering to gradually increase his volume as he went and simultaneously converting the Cackle into mad laughter. “Woke up, have you?”
Tina who looked confused but determined nonetheless, stretched her arm up into her black silky hair for another pokeball – there were none.
“B – But….. How did you? When did y –”
“I knew all along that someone would be sent after me, so I planned a trap to which you’re foolish companion fell into. Although,” he said, raising his finger as if he were explaining an important condition. “As a strategist I had to have a back up plan. This Beedrill that you are looking at isn’t you’re normal poison Pokemon. Beedrill’s Pin missile attack has been constantly refined and improved upon; it has a specialty to it, which makes it very different from other Beedrill. My Beedrill is able to successfully disguise and shoot an invisible needle, which has a sleeping toxin so powerful, that you feel like you’ve been asleep for days, when infact, you’ve only been asleep for about five minutes.” He said, with growing excitement at his ingenuity. “The Pin Missile attack was a fake – out, standard strategy, to help execute his Slumber Needle attack!”
“But… how? How could it have evaded Houndoom’s flamethrower attack?” She retorted, in disbelief.
“You’re thicker than a plank.” Said the tall man, “It was obvious that you would counter with a fire attack, So Beedrill fired a needle at very low altitude, he even aimed one at your comrade, even though that one was less likely to hit on account of him being “hung up.” he laughed mockingly.
Granny Tina looked down at her skirt, her eyes bulging up in fear, she had seen it now – the long needle had pierced through her dress and was completely colorless, she could only make out there was a needle there by looking at the impression on her usually cleave – free dress.
“The effects of that pin are painless,” He said looking proudly at his creation. “I hope you understand how I was able to take your Pokemon - or poach them, rather, away from you.” His face suddenly turned evil and twisted. “And now,” he said, pulling out a Pokeball and summoning a Pokemon that looked so ironically like a Pokeball, the Pokemon had a smug grin on its face and rolled up and down enthusiastically. “It’s time, to say good – bye!” he said summoning a Pidgeotto and gracefully climbing onto its back. He stood on Pidgeotto with both feet, not even bothering to hang his arms around it, as if he had no fear of falling.
During all the excitement Chris had managed to free himself of the web by continuously wiggling and kicking, his dark hair trashing over his pale white face, which was now red scarlet. He looked like one of those people in rehab, tied up and furiously trying to get free of the white bag and walls that encased them. The web had a very Pokemon – ish touch to it, undoubtedly spun by one of the trainers bug Pokemon. Chris was now standing behind a tree, some forty yards away; he stared uselessly as he realized that his Pokemon had been taken away too. Tears trickled down his face, he couldn’t bare it, he couldn’t watch his grandmother die. The look on her usually calm face sent shivers down his spine, he didn’t know what do. Running in to save her at this point would’ve been suicide.
Tia stood there watching the round, perilous Pokemon about to kill her. Her legs wouldn’t allow her to move. It could’ve been shock, or even pure fatigue that kept her rooted to the ground. As the oncoming Electrode got closer and closer her life seemed to flash before her eyes.
There was a huge explosion inflaming the trees and grass in that area of the forest, lighting up the already bright summer day. It was as if her life went out with a bang – pardon the pun.
“NOO!” Chris screamed, forgetting his decision to remain hidden, running towards the clearing at full pace, searching desperately for remains of a body. The criminal had flown away on his Pidgeotto, not even bothering to summon his electrode back into the round, red and white ball that was once its home.
Chris swore loudly, shouting words like “vengeance” and “revenge.” He would make him pay…. He remembered the scarred and pitted man, his tall image printed in Chris’ brain. He would make him pay….. He would make them all pay…