Pokemon going for: Growlithe
Chars: 22K, with no spaces =x (sorry for length!)
Status: Ready to be graded (:
“Really? I love playing with a good chew toy,” Houndoom croaked as he kept closer and ever closer.
“O-ho. Then let’s see what you got Houndy-boy!” Hades chided.
In an instant, the two Houndoom brothers leapt at each other in a metamorphic blob of shadows. The shadows, thrashing figures of fangs and chipped horns, rolled around the cold floor in a display of epic violence. The other Pokemon, witnesses to yet another dangerous day in the Pokemon Pound, roared in great amusement. Several jumped and screamed while others called out bets on either of the great brothers. This was usual behavior; roughhousing brought these abandoned creatures together, except for one lonely little Pokemon hoping not to fall victim to the poisonous cloud of violence.
“Oh no, they’re fighting again…and they just fought earlier today too!” Growlithe thought as he backed into a frigid corner, as if he could disappear into its comforting cement.
Growlithe wished he were a big, badass Pokemon with formidable fangs and a long scar running down his neck. But alas, he was only a cute little creature with fluffy peach hair surrounding his tiny, fragile frame. His orange and black stripes didn’t come off as cool, and his herbivore teeth didn’t look anywhere near as frightening as Hades’ ‘Fangs of Chaos’. Round, deep eyes of chocolate widened in fear as he regarded the growing fight with the utmost anxiety. He had only been locked up in this compound for a week (and most of the Pound Pokemon were pretty kind to him too), but already he was terrified.
The Pokemon Pound stood alone on a slope of a hill east of Goldenrod City. In an almost comical fashion, it would always drizzle on the Pokemon Pound, making it a cold image of a Pokemon prison. And in a way, it was a prison; abandoned Pokemon seeked the compound in safety while violent Pokemon were thrown into the mix against their own will. Plus, there were no extra buildings to create the pound-its prison consisted of one cemented building with no windows and only one door (this is besides the rumor of an extra door that fellow Pokemon would go into and never come out of…). Because of the forced proximity to other Pokemon, the Pound unified all temperaments, species, and stories in one bleak, gray building.
The story of Growlithe was that of a hero!...Or rather, his story was that of a latent hero waiting backstage for his moment in history! Growlithe thought of how cool it would be for him to suddenly become strong and be able to stop this fight with the peace and grace (and perhaps deep growl) of an Arcanine. Visions of heroism flashed through his little head, but in all reality he would probably run the fastest he could if faced with confrontation.
“Hey Growls, what ya’ think of this here tussle?” Raichu questioned with his broken voice. Raichu, a chubby mouse Pokemon with half of his left ear missing and short, greasy fur, was like a brother to Growlithe. He was the first Pokemon to welcome a shaking Growlithe into the compound, and the one to Focus Punch Raticate when he attempted to take Growlithe’s dinner. Rumors went around that Raichu ended up in the Pound by Thunderbolting an abusive trainer into a painful, electric death; Growlithe chose not to believe this only to hope that he would not have the same fate.
“Umm, I don’t know…I think Hades is pretty beastly, but I also think Houndy got the squeeze on him…” Growlithe replied, his timid voice completely inaudible over the racket the other Pokemon were making. Houndy had pinned Hades down and in an entertaining struggle of power, was attempting to Crunch his brother with steel fangs. The other Pokemon went wild!
“Yeah! Ya’ got the spirit!” Raichu yelled back at him, hearing nothing of what he said.
The trebling tumult was ended by the warden, who no one cared about nor liked. The other Pokemon comprehended nothing of what the man had to say, but only knew that he threw other Pokemon into the Pound every now and then and came to lazily stop fights like these every day. He didn’t do anything for the Pokemon themselves; hell, he didn’t even put food out for them-food magically seemed to appear at a certain time every day on the counters, always waiting for the Pokemon. And now the warden once again attempted to stop another fight.
“Blah blah blah blah blah!” he wailed, flailing his arms pathetically and watching the two Houndoom.
“I’m taking you to back to the Celadon days, Hades!” Houndy shouted, pursuing his brother, who had managed to escape the crunch of his ferocious fangs.
Hades sighed in deep annoyance, the enthusiasm from his voice drained.
“The People Mascot has returned to sell us peanuts,” he dryly replied, heading back to his hay bed to rest. With deep groans, the other Pokemon followed Hades’ plan and ended up back into their beds. The simple warden had no authority over the beasts that lay at rest in the Pokemon Pound; Pokemon found his voice annoying, and chose to not listen to it. And the only way to get the warden to shut up was to stop conflict…either that or knock out the warden by force, but that was something that required energy. Precious energy need not be wasted on the nutty warden.
“Come on Growls,” Raichu said to Growlithe as they trudged back to their cells, “We be getting cookies tonight for dinner.”
The sky, protecting its children forever more, covered the town of Goldenrod with thick rain clouds that shielded the sun. Refreshingly, these cumulous clouds brought with them the goodness of the rain, which the vegetation on the beaten path welcomed with open arms. The temperature was that of a cool spring day, with no humidity to take away from the joyous feeling of droplets hitting skin and Pokemon. The town’s air was not polluted with the poison of car smoke; fresh, encouraging, and inspiring, the rain brought with it a feel of quiet discovery.
“Oh boy, the places we should go today…” Violence mused to herself as she crossed the Goldenrod City gates. Discovery was her song and adventures were her lyrics; she was definitely ready to go somewhere with her trusty Totodile.
The young trainer was stopped short when a creeping presence poured chills down her spine.
“Violence…” a smooth and feminine voice purred from behind her.
Immediately, the young trainer cringed and grabbed the cute little Dive Ball her Totodile resided in. She could recognize that silky voice from half a mile away, despite its softness. That voice had brought her so much pain and competition before; even though she had only been bullied by a single person in her fifteen years of life, Violence kept so many memories of being pushed and being name called before…she wouldn’t let it happen this time!
“I call the first move!” she shouted as she turned around. Before she could push the key button to her Pokeball, though, a familiar face surprised her…
“Oh, Sorrow! Thank goodness. For a moment I thought you were Silver!” Violence’s words were genuine but coated with a layer of shock.
Sorrow, a proud teenager with Pokeballs and a fanciful cardigan, probed at Violence’s words with curiosity.
“Silver? Now just who is that…a new boy, I presume?”
“Oh no, not at all,” Violence denied, shaking her hands in a failing attempt to get Sorrow to forget the subject.
“I see. Well, I saw you and I just wanted to say hello. I’ll be on my way to the Pokemon Gym-“
“No! I need to get to work!” Violence shouted, a sudden realization hitting her harder than hailstones. She was running up that same swampy slope before she remembered that she had gotten a job at the Pokemon Pound by complete mistake. How she could confuse her trainer card application for a job application was a complete mystery; however, she hoped to fix this little problem by going up to the Pokemon Pound today and canceling her application. Hopefully, a meaningful apology and a smile would be enough to get her off the hook from working. For now though, all she could was run through the muddy path until she arrived at the dismal compound they called the Pokemon Pound.
“Take care, Violence,” Sorrow whispered with a smile as she turned towards the Pokemon Gym.
The Pokemon Pound, filled with the joyous sounds of crunches and munches, was alive once again with activity. Soon after the warden arrived to break up the fight of the Houndoom brothers, dinner arrived to the Pokemon in the form of mushy meat in glass bowls. The bowls lined the cells of the Pokemon, and with their magical ‘clank’ on the cement ground, the Pokemon hastily rushed to get their fill of food. Dinner wasn’t just an important part of a happy Pounder’s diet-dinnertime brought the Pokemon even closer together. It was at this time of day that the Pokemon spoke of past adventures, of future fights to be had, and even sometimes they spoke of a means to escape the Pokemon Pound…
“Alright everyone, hear me out!” Nidoking yelled, his deep baritone rising above the chitter chatter of others.
Nidoking, a beefy Pokemon with a commanding voice, was the head Honchkrow of the Pokemon Pound. When the others needed a father figure or a leader, they looked at Nidoking in all his calm glory. He directed the dinnertime conversations and thought of these wild escape plans every now and then. It was a fact that when Nidoking was given a chance to leave the Pokemon Pound, he briskly rejected the offer only so he could come back to the Pound and protect his fellow Pokemon.
“Mhhm, Mr. Nido. I wonder what he gots to say now,” Raichu said while munching his mush.
In a quick decrescendo, the pound went quiet. Nidoking’s words were a way to live for the Pokemon, and whatever he had to say was definitely heard by all.
“Some time ago I discovered a weak spot in the building, a spot that could be easily blown away by the simplest attack. The foolish warden discovered me, but he could never realize the flaw I had realized at that moment. I believe that this knowledge will carry us forth to greater places. My brothers…the time has come to attempt to escape the atrocious place known to us as the Pokemon Pound,” he said slowly, articulating each sound with strength and certainty.
A moment of quiet awe silenced the Pokemon, and then an explosion of chatter followed.
“E-escape? Raichu, is it really possible to leave this place?!” Growlithe questioned, his voice rising in excitement.
Raichu, with his fat body sprawled out on his bed next to Growlithe, laughed loudly.
“Kid, it ain’t called ‘leaving’ ‘round here. Ya break free and get caught, and ya die,” he replied truly.
Growlithe gasped in surprise, his breath taken away in fear. The other Pokemon continued chatting until Nidoking once again brought the attention back to himself.
“Wait everyone, I wasn’t done explaining yet!”
The chatter ceased to silence before Nidoking continued, “As it seems, no one objects the idea of escape. In some time, our plan will be executed. If all goes well, we shall escape this hideous Pound tonight.”
Comments bubbled to the surface just as soon as Nidoking stopped talking. In a regular pattern, Nidoking would add another addition to his speech and pause as the Pokemon conversed amongst themselves. He would then proceed to add to their escape plan, and from there on. As the young night grew, the hearts of the excited Pokemon pounded with anticipation. They knew that tonight was the chosen night for a rampage and with the notorious Nidoking leading them, all would fall under their wrath. Tonight was the night for the beasts of the Pokemon Pound to awaken once again from their cemented shells.
Despite the serious atmosphere, a shady green figure lurking by the back wall of the Pound opposite the Pokemon chuckled flippantly.
“That’s what happened, you see. I’m sorry for this confusion!” Violence’s apologetic eyes and smile spoke louder than her soft words, but the warden didn’t seem to hear any of her explanation.
“Umm…” she murmured, wondering if the warden was sleeping with his eyes open.
The boring man who sat behind the main counter seemed one dimensional. Indistinctively, the stale green uniform he wore matched with his simple green hat and black boots. His overused hair style gave him no personality, and his brown eyes might have looked nice if they weren’t so clouded and dull. He had no Pokeballs to personify him, no special features, and nothing except that green uniform to distinguish him.
Coincidentally, the nervous teenager who waited before him seemed his opposite. Violence sported a comfortable tee shirt with a polka dotted skirt (she found the rain more comforting than cold). Her luxurious black curly hair spoke of adventures, while her ripped, muddy black Vans had probably been through more ‘adventure’ than they could handle. Violence wasn’t particularly pretty, yet her innocent face and features brought a special charm to her that caused people to look at her in greater perspective. However, that different perspective was most likely not regarded by the warden…
“Blah blah blah!” he suddenly burst out, filling the silence of the room with his odd gibberish.
“E-excuse me? Could you repeat that?” Violence said, taken aback by the man’s burst.
“I’m just kidding,” the warden replied with a light chuckle, “The only other interaction I get is from the Pokemon in these parts, and they don’t understand a word I say. You’re probably the first person to visit this Pound in a long, long time.”
“Don’t worry, kid; I understand your situation and you will be let off this horrid job. I have a request, though. The Pokemon in this Pound are planning something, or so my intuition tells me. Would you mind standing guard by the backside of the Pound for me?”
“Oh, sure!” Violence replied back, overjoyed that she would never have to work at this boring building ever again. She never questioned the warden’s motives; she simply scurried off to the outside of the building.
“I’m on patrol, I’m on patrol…” Violence hummed to herself quietly as she wandered outside the Pokemon Pound’s old building. The young trainer had only been out here for an hour or so, but trudging around in the soaking mud had gotten a little old by now (although it was one of her favorite activities as a child in the rain). Sighing, Violence sat herself down on the ledge of the building. The Pound’s sign overhead shielded her from the rain, so all she felt was the light touch of condensed air. She smiled before grabbing her only Pokeball off her belt and tossing it into the air; a ray of crimson energy flashed from the mysterious ball before Totodile was released.
“Toto!” cried the cute little crocodilian Pokemon. Totodile, with his big brown eyes and huge jaw, smiled at his trainer before clumsily running over to her. The primitive, triangular spikes that emerged from his back like knives shook in a natural reaction to the rain, and his skin seemed to shiver in response to the sudden change of atmosphere. The little crocodile stood out in the rain for a refreshing moment before joining his trainer on the ledge.
“Isn’t it lovely, Totodile?” she murmured to him, gently stroking his head. As they sat there for minutes upon minutes, they quietly observed Goldenrod City; the location of the Pound on the slippery slope gave a perfect viewpoint of the town. Out on this lonely slope, Goldenrod’s grandeur Radio Tower and Department Store seemed to touch the sky; their different colors seemed to create the vivid rainbow that now painted the dreamy sky, highlighted by the night’s darkness. Moist, welcoming, and fresh, the light drizzle that caressed her skin made tonight a pleasant night to stay outdoors.
“I wonder why the warden asked us to guard the Pound from here,” Violence mused, half asleep, “I haven’t seen a single soul yet. No one has walked out here, and I haven’t heard any Pokemon in a while.”
“Toto-dile…” Totodile distantly replied, sensing something his trainer didn’t.
“I really wish I knew what you were saying Totodile. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could speak Pokemon?” Violence imagined, letting her eyes roam the sky.
In the time frame of a mere second, an ear splitting explosion brought Violence to her feet.
“What the heck?!” she cried, fully alive now. The tremors from the explosion sent shocks of fear from her feet to her head, and before she knew it she was both dizzy and scared. Violence hadn’t actually seen the explosion itself, but saw the horrifying effects of it. Terrifying, white wisps of curly smoke wound their way up to the obsidian night, while little embers of fire were quickly extinguished by the merciful rain. The whole scene took place behind the Pokemon Pound, exact opposite of where Violence herself was; how could she face what actually happened if she was already knocked out by the aftermath?
“Is this…is this why he wanted me to guard the pound?” she asked herself, frozen where she stood. The shock left her there for an anxious moment before something else put her in an entirely new field of fear.
The cries of Pokemon, deep and furious, ripped from the site of the explosion like the screams of the undead. Their evil yet mocking sounds (for the multitude of noise could not have been emitted by simply one Pokemon) told Violence all she needed to know.
“I’m getting out of here!” she shouted as she leaped from the Pound back down to the slope with the speed of a gazelle.
“Toto, toto!” Totodile replied hastily. The tiny Pokemon stood before his trainer and met her frightened eyes with a cool, understanding gaze. In an instant, the spell of fear Violence was put under was broken and she calmed down (even if a little).
“…Fine. This is my job and I need to take responsibility,” she told him.
“Toto!” he replied happily, a smile crossing his face.
“But if there are zombies behind this pound, we’re running!”
And so, trainer and Pokemon slowly crept up behind the pound, watching for any signs of aggression. In each careful, quiet step, they took three more steps in mindset. They prepared themselves for whatever now stood in front of the Pokemon Pound, be it a Pokemon or a zombie or even a genie. What awaited them in all its ferocious glory was going to be stopped by them, no matter how dangerous or frightening it might be…
The barbaric beast that stood before them was not a beast at all, but a tiny little creature of a Growlithe. It stood in a pathetic defensive stance as it saw Violence, as if it would rather run than attack the trainer. Behind the puppy Pokemon, a tiny hole was forged from the back wall of the Pokemon Pound, but it certainly wasn’t big enough for the Pokemon she had heard earlier to escape; in all honesty, Violence herself probably wouldn’t have been able to fit through such a tiny hole. Black explosion smudges lined the breach, and it was clear now what had happened here and why.
“Oh no! She found me!” Growlithe barked ashamedly to his companions, who anxiously waited by the inside hole of the Pound.
Violence understood nothing of what the Pokemon said, but gently replied, “Oh…Were you the one causing all that racket I had heard earlier?”