2010 Fanfiction Awards Results

Mark muttered something in agreement and sent Charizard, Dragonair and Scyther out again while Alan brought him a few potion bottles. Charizard looked with embarrassment at Carl’s female, who winked with a teasing grin before turning around to let Carl spray some Potion on the cut on her belly.

“Well, that battle was… interesting.” Mark coughed, not sure how to finish the thought.

“Awkward, ” Charizard agreed, and Mark could have sworn he saw the dragon’s face slightly reddening.

“Very.”

“Although at the same time, it was… kind of nice.”

Mark couldn’t help snickering. “Charizard in love.”

“I hate you sometimes, ” the Pokémon muttered.

Pokemon Biology 101: The measure of a Pikachu's stamina is a measure of its voltage. No Pikachu with cheek potential difference (CPD) less than 3.7 volts should be placed into battle, no matter how vivacious the brave-natured ones pretend to be.

I touch Pikachu's cheeks with either side of the meter and the screen brightens up and an LED indicator on the top left flashes red. 3.1 volt CPD, Pikachu is unfit for battle. I show him the score and his little black eyes widen and his mouth hangs in shock and disappointment. It almost breaks my heart to force him back into his Pokeball. I pat his head and recall him. But it doesn't matter how he feels, the data suggests he's too drained to participate in another round. If I hadn't known that, I'd have let him keep fighting. Maybe if I had a softer heart about the whole thing, I'd let him stay out and on the field because I appreciate how much he wanted to, but that doesn't get you anywhere. It doesn't get you an assured victory, it doesn't grow your bond with your pokemon, it doesn't gain you an overall quality of 96.78% (Thank you, I'm proud of it.).

"Are you done rubbing salve on your injured babies? Should we continue with the match or would you rather I wait a little longer while you read your Pikachu a bedtime story?" he says in a jeering tone.

It's called Reaction Formation. 'I'm losing so I'll shout like I'm winning.'

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yeah, sure. Let's continue." I let him know with my tone that what I just did was not out of the ordinary. I'm not excited, I'm not on a hot streak. I am a hot streak.

I'm already thinking of what I'll buy with the money I earn from this battle. Devon Corp's black bulletproof vest.

I imagine being hit by a bus wearing a bulletproof vest.

Falling off of a balcony wearing a bulletproof vest.

****, focus. You haven't won yet. Fight like you're losing until you win.

And then he does something truly shocking.

"Salamence!" The loudest roar you can imagine. Louder.

That was my heart pounding.

That was my pulse racing.

That was my jaw dropping.

****! Now he can see it, my fear. It's the moment in your nightmare when you're at school and you realize you have no pants on.

"H-hey!" you exclaim. "Let me go!"

The old woman's grip on your wrist tightens. "I'm sorry, child. She made me do this."

Your joints feel stiff. At first, you think it's just fear, but looking down, you notice something weird: your skin has turned rough and brown, and small twigs are starting to grow from your arms.

You want to scream, but you just can't. Your mouth is open, but no sound is coming from it.

The old woman guides you outside. You can feel the chill wind all around you, but it passes right through your clothes and your skin and directly into your bones. Your insides feel hot, like they're trying to boil up against your skin. Groaning, you writhe and try to break away from the old woman, but she simply guides you to a spot near the house.

Your feet break out of your sneakers. Your toes thrust into the ground. You can feel the moist earth beneath you, but your mind, by then, breaks.

Eventually, you can't think straight as your body stretches and thickens. Your legs fuse together into a single trunk, and all of a sudden, you realize in your last fit of consciousness that you never felt a single bit of pain. Discomfort, yes, but no pain. It was almost as if it was natural for this to happen.

Looking down at the old woman, you notice another creature standing beside her. At first, you think it's a lady dressed in green, but at second glance, you notice that it's a small, pixie-like pokémon with large, blue eyes turned towards you.

"Another offering, " the old woman says wearily. "Does it satisfy you, my lady?"

The creature nods. She doesn't say anything.

—

Panicked by the green woman's threat, the chieftain's daughter ran into the village. There, she saw the strangest sight she had ever seen: people everywhere turning into trees. She watched helplessly as her father's arms grew into branches, as his face disappeared into bark, as his legs thrust into the ground where he stood. She watched her suitor drop his quiver and grow leaves around his head. She watched as the children froze where they were, their eyes wide and terrified as they, too, became trees.

After a while, the chieftain's daughter screamed and ran into one of the houses. The lady in green followed her, breaking down the red door without even touching it. There, as the chieftain's daughter sat on the floor and cried, the lady in green knelt next to her and touched her on the head.

"There, there, " she said. "You will not be alone. All around you, the people of this village will always stand around this house. And, if that is not enough, I will always be with you. I have even given you a gift. You will not know how to use it until much later, of course, but I will have time to teach you some other day."

She stood. The chieftain's daughter still said nothing. Instead, she could only glare at the woman in green.

"Someday, " the witch said, "you will come to love the people of the village as they are, and you will come to love me. Until that day, use the gift I have given you to bring me your offerings. It will be the way you can work to earn my forgiveness."

The woman flashed one more smile – one more toothy grin, and for the first time, the chieftain's daughter felt afraid of the green woman.

But the witch did nothing else except leave. Eventually, the buildings of Ilex Village would crumble except for the one the chieftain's daughter would grow old in – always old but never dead. Her hair turned from sunlight golden to a pale silver, her eyes lost the beautiful sapphire blue that once attracted the sorry hunter, and her moon-colored skin grew as cold as her heart, but she would never die.

Instead, she built a stone shrine to her mistress. There, she used the magic that the witch of the prairie had given her – the same magic that she had witnessed herself – to offer countless lost children to the green woman, the creature who became the Voice of the Forest.

—

I'm so sorry.

"Well, thing’s aren’t looking great, especially now that he’s become conscious" said Dr. Mathenos, lip twitching a bit. "Are you aware about how potions work, Jerwin?"

I shook my head.

"Well, " he began. "Potions release certain chemicals that heal the Pokemon. Ordinarily, these are released naturally when the Pokemon faints. They only come out in small doses, to ensure that the Pokemon becomes fully healed, withoit complicatations."

"However, you are never supposed to inject a Pokemon with a potion while it is fainted. It says so on the potion itself. The chemicals that heal the Pokemon are very concentrated in potions. While they are ordinarily very beneficial to the Pokemon, they can cause bad things to happen. If the bones were broken, as they were already in Teddiursa’s case, they can start growing in awkward angles, even damaging internal organs, or growing out of the skin. In this Pokemon’s case, both are happening."

I made a chocking sound, halfway between a sob and a gasp.

"If it weren’t for the old man and lady’s idea, as you say, which was putting him inside the Pokeball, he probably wouldn’t be alive right now. His clavicle is growing up threw his neck - it’s already pierced through his windpipe, incidentally - and is heading directly towards his brain. If it hits, he’s gone."

"Right now, he’s stable inside his Pokeball. There’s only one thing we can do to save him at this point, and that’s an extremely risky surgery. Worse yet, is that we don’t have any anesthetics to prevent him from feeling pain. The potion chemicals, still in his body, fight them off as if they were intruders, or sickness." He sighed, and took off his spectacles.

"Jerwin, that means that we are going to have to break, saw, and reset his bones, while he’s still conscious."

I nodded.

"I don’t blame you for this, Jerwin. You were trying to do your part as a humane human being." Dr. Mathenos said solemnly. "However, it was irresponsible for you to do it this way. Common sense could have averteted this whole ordeal. If you just had caught the Teddiursa in a Pokeball, without injecting it with unneeded medicine, everything would be great right now."

"Oh, and it obviously got in a battle before it was so seriously maimed, if you hadn’t noticed. It’s eyes were clawed out. It’s going to be blind forever."

With that, Dr. Mathenos gave me a brief, kind look, and paced to the back room. I stared straight ahead, stunned at what my actions had cost the Pokemon.

A few minutes later, I could hear the screams and squeals of a Teddiursa being tortured. I knew that it was all my fault.

All my stupid, ****ing fault.

It had been a long day, what with the journey, the fight and the elder’s endless font of fortune-cookie wisdom. The soft fabric of the bed sheets felt good on her aching body. She’d fished a book from her pack earlier, but she was too tired to read it.

Her hand grasped a pokéball, etched with the name ‘Eidolon’, and released the catch. He appeared in a flash, the gases that made up his miasmic body contriving to look solid as they coalesced into the shape of a gengar. He gave her a toothy white grin wider than his body.

As he placed his hands on her forehead, she fell once more into a dreamless sleep.

May stared over the area for a moment and then nodded. “I think this is the best we can do, ” she said quietly. Taylor’s body was still lying there on the blood-soaked ground, jarringly out of place alone in the barren landscape. Neither of them had been able to bring themselves to touch it.*

“Are we going back to the trainer lodge?” Mark asked, the thought of being around other people strangely nauseating.

May shook her head. “We’ll camp somewhere else.” She spent a moment seemingly lost in thought before she finally looked up at Tyranitar. “You need to go away.”

He looked back at her, uncomprehending. “Not with you?”

“No, not with me.” She looked down. “I’m releasing you. Go and find some wild Tyranitar to live with.”

The Pokémon stared at her. “But I won’t…”

“It doesn’t matter, ” May said, her voice shaking a little but still firm. “You killed someone. I don’t know if they can trace it back to you somehow, but if they can, I can’t still be carrying you around. Wild Pokémon don’t get prosecuted.”

Tyranitar looked mortified. He stared at May for a moment longer and then let out a bone-chilling wail before he turned around and fled, eventually blending into the rocky landscape and disappearing from sight.

Mark turned to May and noticed with a jolt that there were tears running down her cheeks as she stared after Tyranitar. As she realized he was looking at her, she quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and then turned around, heading off without a word.

Something compelled Mark to take one last look at the body before he followed her. The boy’s face was frozen in horror, his frightened stare now fixed forever on the sky above; he didn’t look like a League Champion, or a dangerous opponent, or a cheating scumbag. He just looked like a scared little kid who would never get to walk or talk or laugh or do anything again.

“Rrrratttaaaaata, ” it chattered in warning, watching her with keen, wary eyes, fully prepared to bolt when and if the need came. “Rrrrrattatta.”

Anna picked her head up – that action nearly sent the creature fleeing.

She didn’t move. She didn’t want to scare it away. She liked animals.

Anna tried to smile now. The pain was fading. She could be brave and smile. Maybe the rattata would be her friend. “Hi. I’m Anna. An-na.”

Its stance was different now, less tense and less prepared. It cocked its head as if it were genuinely confused. Instead of running away, it came closer, sniffing the air. “Rat? Ratttata, rat?”

Anna crept forward, stretching out a tentative hand. No sooner had her hand brushed the top of the rattata’s head then did it react. With a hissing screech, the rattata recoiled, sinking its sharp fangs deep into her palm. Anna cried out in pain, flailing her hand with its unnaturally curved fingers until the rat let go. The force of the swing sent the rat’s tiny body skidding across the cement floor. It quickly leapt back onto its feet, scurrying away through the hole to freedom.

Anna hardly noticed the throbbing pain, or the blood steadily welling up from the bite. Instead, she watched the hole that the rattata had fled out of, waiting for it to come back. She waited and waited and waited, but it never returned. The only companion she had was the cold, unfeeling silence.

Anna hadn’t meant to frighten it. Was she really that scary?

This time, Anna couldn’t stop herself from crying. She really wasn’t the brave girl Daddy said she was.

…Monster…

By the time she woke up, the short-lived winter day was already gone. She ate a few more icicles, then went to check on her sculpture. It was still standing, but weakened a little by the sun’s light. It was foggy yet again, so she strengthened weak spots in the ice.

A crunch in the snow put her on alert, but it was the man who had saved her yesterday. “Then it is your work, Froslass.”

She nodded. “<A sign of my thanks, that is all. I worked hard on it.>”

“You must have worked hard all night to make it.” He smiled. “Many people came to see it, even those not of our faith. It’s something special.”

She brought her wings together on her chest. “<It is the biggest one I have made. The best so far, I think.>”

He turned to the sculpture and looked it over. “Many people came. And they heard of how our synagogue is in danger of being removed unless it is repaired. We’ve gotten many donations to help cover the cost. We’re not quite there yet, but we almost have enough money to cover everything. And it’s all thanks to your work here.”

“<Is it?>” she asked, bashfully cover her face. “<I didn’t mean to do that much.>”

He patted her. “Thank you, although I feel you did this in thanks to me. Perhaps God has worked through you today.”

"… Is this the place?" she hears Lucas ask.

"… Yes." The word leaves Marley's lips with difficulty. Her hand clenches into a fist. "Yes. It is." She turns around, forces a smile. "This is the end of my journey."

Lucas can sense her disappointment, but she does not care. He begins to say something, but Marley looks away, out toward the dark ocean before her, face blank. "'The Pokemon among the flowers…'" she whispers, leaning against the stone. It is real and solid, an anchor for her to cling on in the midst of her broken dreams.

She feels a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, " says Lucas.

Marley lets her eyes wander upwards, towards the stars once more. They wink at her, fellow conspirators in on a secret that no one else knew. The ocean sings its song, lapping at the shore in accompanying melody. She turns around, looking down at the page clutched in her hand.

"… It's fine, " she says at last, raising her gaze to meet Lucas's. "It's not the first time."

Lucas frowns. "That doesn't make it any better."

Marley traces the petals on the pressed flower, and the smile returns. "… I'm happy that I made it here, " she answers. "This place is beautiful." She hesitates, then tenderly lets the page go. It whirls in the wind, once, twice, then disappears into the night. Lucas watches.

"My time with you is drawing to a close…"

It surprises her, those words. It surprises Lucas as well.

"What do you mean by that?" he says in alarm.

Marley flushes. She is not used to saying so much, with such little restraint. But she continues to talk, and the words rise up from a hidden part of her, coming freely, flowing like a stream. "I… I don't like to talk. I choose my words carefully, but they may still hurt someone accidentally… when I think of that, I clam up…"

She takes a deep breath. "That's why I think this certain Pokemon is so wonderful. It's a Pokemon that conveys the feelings of gratitude in a nice way…"

It is gratitude that she has tried so hard to convey, tried so hard to say but couldn't. Something in her heart and in her throat had always prevented her from doing so, but as she looks into Lucas's eyes, into the memory of her long-gone friend, she feels it dissipate into a wonderfully tender feeling.

"I… thank you."

One week later, and we're still here. No blacklist. Backlot didn't even have time to fire us. He seemed to like the idea too, and as long as we gave a small percent of our profits to the mansion, he'd give us living space and endorse our contest.

Still, for me, every day is the same. I wake up, see the sunlight through my window, and smile. I get up, make my bed, brush my teeth, and put on my uniform - red dress, white tights, heels, and - surprise! - makeup.

After I leave my room, I head to the lone door at the end of the East Wing, where I will wait, ready to welcome anyone that happens to come our way. You'll see our advertisements on TV, and sometimes on billboards. Our story is all over the papers, how five ordinary maids rose up to become celebrities. The media has made us an image, but really, we're just five friends. Five friends who once upon a time had nothing, then built themselves up into having everything.

"Welcome to the East Wing."

"Okay, idiots, I’m not going to wander into Brock’s gym just to get crushed by some pathetic pebble. I need experience, and one of you is going to give it to me. Who’s my first victim?"

“Revenge? I don’t think so Jess. I don’t think life works like that. When the grave calls, you have to deal with it. I’ve realised this. You can’t take it back, can’t change the past, it’s done.

No amount of revenge will ever help.”

"Hey, want to see something stupid?" Kip called out. He then looked down and started singing. "Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep you frikken *******!"

"No, I'm okay. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night, I guess. And then there was the unexpected battle. And then there was the sun and its rays. And so on and so on." I'm actually saying "and so on and so on". I don't even know what I'm talking about."