Knock-Out Battles

This ficlet takes a look at the darker side of pokemon battles. For more info, please read this!

Pokemon are born to fight.

That is the one thing they all have in common – from rattata to tyranitar, each pokemon is bound by one single thread, a line that brings them altogether in unity. To fight. To harm their opponents, to burn them or freeze them or poison them or tackle them, whatever will knock their opponents out of the ring first.

The Rapidash whinnies, screaming a challenge and slamming the air with hooves that could smash through rock.

The cream Pokemon swishes her burning tail and half leaps, shifting its hooves. She is scared. She is young, and she doesn't know what her master will do with her if she loses. She knows that if she wants to, she can easily kill her master with one flick of her tail – but she is born to fight. Muscles shift under cream coat as the horse-type paws the ground. She has only just evolved – but her eyes are red and gleaming and her diamond – hard hooves could certainly pack a painful kick. She is definitely nothing to be trifled with.

Its opponent snarls, low and deep. The glaring strobe lights bounce of the black, scythe-like horn that protrudes from the side of its head and he sheaths and unsheathes his claws several times, like a tiger getting ready to pounce.

This pokemon is a winner – you can see it in the fine, streamlined muscles and tendons that ripple under the long white snow of the coat – the long legs, the glint for a challenge in the violet eyes. Everything from the dainty way he picks up his large, flat paws to the way he hold his head exudes class.

'GO!' screams the referee.

Some might have said the battle was over before it had even begun.

'Go, Rouge! Double – Edge!'

The Rapidash moves so quickly it becomes nothing more than a blazing blur of scorching flame. Although almost matching the her in the speed stakes, the Absol cannot get out of the way in time and so is thrown several feet backwards as the Rapidash runs a semi-circle round it and then slams into it, hard. But it is far from beaten.

'This promises to be a good match, folks!' The voice of the commentator rings cheerfully around the stadium.

'Razor wind. NOW!'

He obeys the yell of his trainer and brings his head back, collecting nothing more than a breath of air. It darts forward, towards the Rapidash – and it becomes nothing more than a silver tornado – and then releases a blast of air from his mouth, stretched taut in a snarl, at about 70mph. The Rapidash is thrown backwards, against the wall – and gives a shrill scream of terrified pain as the impact breaks one of her long legs.

'Oooh, now this is getting interesting!' the commentator cries delightedly.

'Get up, Rouge! Overheat!'

The Rapidash is in more pain thanshe has ever felt before – but, drawn by a slavish desire to obeyher master, she struggles to rise,dancing around on three legs while the other one hangs, limp and bloody, snapped just above the knee. Overheat, she knows, is a risky move – especially when she is already so weak. But she sucks in a blast of oxygen to fuel the fire all the same, feeling heat building up in her chest and releases a blast of fire so powerful that it leaves the dirt ground black and scorched.

'Dodge it.'

The pokemon does not even need the trainers' command. He dances nimbly across the hot ground. It snarls at the horse – pokemon, who is now sucking in ragged breaths, collapsed on the ground with her leg sticking out sideways.

'Slash.'

The Rapidash whimpers in terror and exhaustion.

The Absol shoots along the scorched ground, huge paws and long legs covering the ground in a fast lope.

Beads of sweat stand out on the trainers' forehead.

'Get UP, Rouge! Move, for Christ's sake!'

But it is already too late. He has reached the Rapidash – and plunges the horn on the side of his head into her belly, tearing internal organs, puncturing the stomach, liver and intestines. It draws the horn up, up, up until it reaches the heart. This bursts, the punctured organ falling flat against the spasming lungs with an extra hard thrust of the Absols' head.

The Rapidash whimpers once more, then becomes completely still as blood fails to reach her brain, body stiffening, red eyes open and glassy. The huge, jagged wound ripping along the mare's belly exposes the torn organs to the air.

The crowd screams and cheers over the victory -and the Absol, standing stock-still, black face covered in the other Pokemon's blood, is recalled into its Pokeball without so much as a word of thanks for its magnificent performance. His violet eyes showed no remorse for the dead Rapidash – this was something the pokemon did every day.

'That's it for today, folks! Join us again in the Poke Cup Great Ball Challenge!'

Some might have said that the Rapidash was doomed before it had even taken its first hit.

Some might have said it was a stupid, heartless thing for the mare's trainer to do.

But days of the knockout challenges are over – when preppy little girls battled with jigglypuffs and poliwags. This, as billboards and adverts with men who scream without even opening their mouths: 'We know what the hell we're talking about' proclaim, is the future in pokemon battling.

'Bloody useless Pokemon,' mutters the trainer, glaring at the body of what had once been a promising fighter. 'Go for something with a bit more stamina next time...'

And without a backwards glance at the dead Rapidash, the trainer turns and walks away.

Well…yeah. Weird, eh? Review please, constructive criticism very welcome!

I'm in no way a Rapidash hater; in fact I love horses and go riding every week! I don't even really like pokemon anymore - this is just something that came to me in the sticky heat of four in the morning…