The smell was the first thing that came to mind when he awoke. The smell of rotten putrid garbage, the potency of it almost felt like he was burning a hole through his throat. The next thing that came into view was only what he could call a moving pile of sludge, multiple at that too. They were eerily crawling across the ground where he lay, not really moving with any purpose, almost as if it was searching for something in the confines of the space, he was currently in. A more pressing matter came to his mind though, despite the smell threatening to make him heave, he absolutely knew he had fallen asleep on his bed…or he thought he had.
Last night was a bit of a blur to him, he and some friends were celebrating graduating high school. And like any high school graduation party, there was alcohol involved, underage or not, it was a staple at the end of high school parties, and it was safe to say he partook in said underage drinking. But he and his friends had made sure to have a designated driver to take them home from the house party they were at, after all, the D.D. was his older sister. He thinks it might have been her or his friend's older sister? Do I have an older sister? Why the hell can't I remember anything about last night?
Unaware of his surroundings as he had begun to think of why he was what he would call a huge dumpster considering the smell and all, he failed to notice one of the blobs of sludge inkling ever closer. He had only noticed when the thing came onto his right foot, causing him to scream in pain, "AHHHH! HOLY FU-" he didn't complete the phrase as he was to busy trying to stand up and move away from the thing.
Moving to a corner where none of the things were at, he was able to take in his surroundings and boy, was it awful.
Rotting corpses lined the floor, most were nothing but piles of bones in various states of matter, but the ones that were fresher, still had flesh and whatnot connected to them. There had to have been over a dozen, and if the pile of bones were anything to go by, there may have been more at one point, he never thought he would see melted bones after all.
The sights and smells had finally caught up to him and he started to expel the non-existent contents of his stomach. Bile and stomach acid was all that came out and after a minute of retching he calmed down and collapsed against the wall, sliding down it and taking another look at the piles of sludge, only this time, he looked a little harder.
Once he did however, an influx of information assaulted his mind, bringing with it an immense amount of pain, that thankfully subsided quickly. Only when he could somewhat think straight did he start to go through the information that came from whatever just happened, and frankly, he couldn't believe what he was reading.
Pokémon: Grimer Age: 6 Gender: Male Type: Poison Potential: E
Description: The Sludge Pokémon. Born from sludge, these Pokémon now gather in polluted places and increase the bacteria in their bodies.
Moves: Sludge, Toxic, Belch Ability: Poison Touch
"Fucking Grimer? How the hell!? Somebody's gotta be fucking with me, because that's impossible," he stated. He glanced at the blob moving but something was different than how he remembered the Pokémon. For one, it- his eyes were missing, it was literally just a pile of poisonous sludge, that was aimlessly moving across the floor.
He then looked around the dumpster again, noticing there were other Grimer's - if that was even possible – moving around, 6 of them in total. And each time he looked at one of them information spung up from somewhere and gave him the exact same details as the first one, only each time it happened the pain lessened and lessened. 4 males and 2 females.
Why that was important who the fuck knew, but it was all he had, and he was grasping at straws right now.
"Shit!" He yelled, one of the Grimer's had made its way over and skimmed against his foot again. He stood up and walked around the mindless sludges and found a new spot that hadn't been near any of the Grimer's or corpses.
"I've gotta get out of here," he muttered, lifting his head up and in the process finding an opening in the roof. Roof? Why the hell does a dumpster have a roof?
He looked around the room once more hoping to find anything that would give him more information. The room was about 10ft wide and just over half of that wide, meaning it was a little cramped, but after looking over every surface, he came up with nothing, and the stench was now starting to get worse as two of the Grimer's had found a 'fresh' corpse.
"I'll have to fucking climb…shit," looking up, he estimated the ceiling to be about 8ft high, and the opening was in the middle of it and was big enough to fit a grown adult, evident by the bigger corpses. Now he was a respectable height of 6'2" and could manage a decent hop with a running start, so it shouldn't pose too much of a challenge. Backing up, he made his way forward and leapt!
Only to find himself a foot and a bit short of the opening.
"How the hell!? Did I shrink? No way right-" he cut himself off before he spoke anymore as he looked at his arms, his very thin arms.
"Whose are these!?" he then went over the rest of his body and found that he wasn't in his anymore. Before he had been a high school graduate, decently handsome as some would say, and over six foot. Here? Maybe 5'5" at most, and judging by the state of his arms he was young, maybe around 13 or 14. And on top of that, he was naked bar a silver with a red stripe skin tight bathing suit (The long speedo, swimmers wear). Being this young again that just wasn't possible…
Yet again Pokémon "weren't" real either…
A slap echoed around the enclosed space. Focus! Think of all this shit later, focus on getting out of wherever the hell this is!
With a somewhat clear conscience and focused mind, he looked around once again and decided on a course of action. It was one he didn't want to take, but desperate times, called for desperate measures, he needed a platform to leap from. There was only one thing he could make a platform out of, and he didn't know if he could do it.
Man up! They can't protest…They would want someone to survive…right?
With a heavy heart and a conscience that was getting foggier, he piled up some of the corpses in order to make a platform to jump off of. In the process of moving one of them though a plastic I.D. fell out of their shirt pocket. He glanced at it and contemplated reading it or not.
It would just be another thing to worry about and something he definitely didn't need to know…He picked it up, he would hate himself more for not knowing who this man was over not knowing and leaving him to be forgotten.
Trainer License
Name: Deacon Redwyne (RED-WINE) Age: 20
Designation: Ace Trainer Badges: 15
He read over the license twice, committing it to memory. He didn't have any pockets in the trunks he was wearing, he checked. He placed back in Deacon's pocket and placed him on top of the pile.
He had his means, now he just had to actually do it.
Backing up once more, his back touched the cold concrete of the wall and he looked ahead. Ignoring the shiver that went up his spine, he started to run and planted his foot on Deacon's chest and jumped. He managed to get the lip of the opening, just barely thick enough for him to get a decent grip with both hands.
What he needed to do next though was the hard part.
He pulled himself up with what paltry strength he had and managed to get his upper torso into the chute, his arms straight and nearing their breaking point. So with a last ditch effort, he lifted his left leg up and got his toes on the ledge, slamming his back into the side of chute, quite painfully he might add. He managed to somehow lock himself in position, his back sticking to the cold grey metal and his legs being the anchor point.
He made it.
Barely.
Now he just had to climb his way out and he had no clue just how high this chute went. He could be here for awhile. But, before any of that, he looked down and closed his eyes making a silent prayer, he wasn't religious man but- wasn't religious? Something else he remembered he guessed. He prayed for that too.
Opening his eyes, he locked gazes with Deacon and it may have been a trick of the light or he was starting to get a high from the poisonous gases, but he swore Deacon looked up at him with a smile.
One that said 'You better make it and stay alive'.
He nodded towards the man he had never known and probably never would. And started to make his climb.
He placed his arms on the sides of the chute and his right leg beneath him, toes on the ledge. In a sort of crouch, he started to shimmy his way up the chute. He didn't know how he knew how to do this, only that it felt right.
~Break~
"Fuck me," he said, his face holding a sheen of sweat and grime. Each shimmy was starting to feel like a marathon. He had been at this for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than 15 minutes. Or was it longer? The chute was also starting to get more slippery the more he sweat.
Thankfully, though the figurative light at the end of the tunnel or rather chute had made itself known. Like a man possessed, he found the strength deep down and shimmied like he never had before. His arms were the first thing to come up out of the chute, his head followed and through a herculean effort, the rest of him came with and he rolled over, back on the floor, covered in sweat and who knows what else.
He took multiple deep breaths calming his body and mind and sat up taking in his new surroundings and he didn't know if it was better or worse than the hell he just climbed out of.
The smell was as bad, if not worse, than the dumpster he found himself in. What he assumed to be a workstation lay in shambles and was literally melting, not too dissimilar to the corpses he saw. The rest of the room wasn't much better, it all had similar states of melting or in the process of doing so. The only thing that had somehow survived whatever destruction befell this place was a desk at the back of the room.
He tried to get up from his sitting position but couldn't, the strain from his climb making itself known. So, he opted to rest a little, he crawled his way over to the desk using up what little energy he had and propped himself against it. Exhaustion quickly took over and he drifted off to sleep. Somewhere in his mind he knew it wasn't a good idea to sleep but he couldn't help himself.
And just like that, he drifted off into Cresselia's domain…or was it Darkrai's?