LOVE AND SACRIFICE
Love and Sacrifice: Side Story 1 - Kaor
I don't really care about what happens to me, or anyone. I was
treated worse than a magikarp in some ways at the base I grew up
in... Or rather, the lab. I was a valued experiment. That was it. I
was nothing more than stats on a piece of paper, a strange creature
to be prodded and picked at, and forced to battle against pokemon and
humans that had strong advantages against him. I learnt to deal with
it somewhat. I knew that I was nothing more than a freak pokemon, not
human in any way other than some of my genes. But I hated it. I cried
myself to sleep every night, and I still do.
Green. Green liquid. Cold green liquid.
That was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes, followed by the oxygen mask over my mouth and nose, and my lack of clothes. Frightened, and only nine years old, I frantically twisted around, discovering that I was trapped in this prison of cold green liquid, which I belatedly realised was some sort of poison. They were probably testing my resistance against it.
The posion was thick, and I felt almost like I had been placed in a bottle of green maple syrup. It was hard to move in, and I found that if I took my feet off the floor, I would still remain where I was, and not fall.
It would soon becomne a common occurance for me to suddenly wake up in a glass holder of some sort of poison... Often hooked up to some IVs so they could keep me relatively healty. It scared me though... I disliked the feeling of being locked in, for I was claustrophobic, but they didn't care. They just stood and took notes, then they would take as much blood from me for testing as they could without harming me.
I never knew what a friend was... They kept me isolated, for they wanted a cold killer who didn't care about emotions. I tried to befriend some of the pokemon in the labs, but they were frightened of me. I was walking poison, even the poison type pokemon were a little nervous around me, for I had been designed so that I could affect pokemon that were resistant to just about anything.
Professor Yalissa had showed some sort of motherly concern torward me every now and then, but that was only because she was the head of his experiment. She had painstakingly created and raised me, in the lab of course, but if anything were to happen to me, she'd be a little vexed because she had worked so hard on me. I felt like she treated me like a robot or some sort of machine that she had programed herself.
I admit though, they succeeded in making me a cold, heartless killer. Friends? What are those? Parents? Siblings? Those mean nothing to me. I kill because I was made to kill. I am a walking weapon. Yes, I have feelings, but I don't understand them, so why should I bother with them?