The False Prophet (drabble)

Red stumbled to the PC, his madly swerving path attracting stares from the patrons of the pokemon center. up a We don’t need a flareon up right left, the voices said, He can’t learn surf up a, we needed a vaporeon to revive helix up a a b

They were so cold, Red thought beneath the cacophony. He still had room in his heart for Eevee’s evolution, even if it was suboptimal for the voices’ plans. Just because Flareon wasn’t a water-type didn’t mean that he couldn’t be a valuable teammate, right? A friend? But the voices, the all-powerful voices in his head disagreed, and they wanted Flareon gone.

The trainer’s quivering fingers finally reached the keyboard of the PC, ready to type the commands to deposit a pokemon. a a All we have to do is deposit Flareon down b We need to make room for Lapras a a down

Red typed slowly, somewhat reluctant to leave a friend behind. But something else bothered him as well- he could feel another, unfamiliar presence in the back of his mind. ''Down. A.''

Once released, ABBBBBBK( is gone forever, the PC screen read. Are you sure you want to release it?

A

ABBBBBBK( was released outside.

Red stared dumbly at the pokeball that should have contained his Charmeleon, his first and most beloved companion. “A-Abby?” He pressed the button to let her out, so he could see her smile and shoot out a proud jet of flame, to make sure she was still by his side. He was met with a futile click. a down ABBY NO BibleThump a a b b RIOT b BibleThump b, the voices screamed as their host sank to his knees, weighed down by grief. Choking on his sobs, he cradled Abby’s pokeball, the last item he had to treasure her memory.

“Do not fret, child.” Flareon burst from his pokeball with a grin on his round little face despite the tragedy that had just occurred. “You already have a fire-type.”