So it's a collection of one-shots. I haven't seen anything like this before, but it sounds interesting at least. These are all told from the POV of the Pokes. Some of them are quite mature, however. Just so no one is offended. Obviously, I don't own Pokemon. If I did, we'd have better voice actors and the anime would be a lot darker.

One: Wrong

Dusknoir, the Gripper Pokémon.

My name is Dusknoir, to the humans at least.

My true name, spoken in the ancient language all creatures understand, is something large, unpronounceable, and utterly unattractive. Sometimes, I'm not even sure if I can remember my own name, let alone pronounce it. It's rather amusing…..

My Lord will try to pronounce the names of my kind only to end in a huff. Even he stumbles over the large amount of syllables and cluttered sounds that we choose for ourselves. After nearly a century of tormenting himself with the challenge, he gave up that futile quest and began to call us by designations of his own volition.

I was designated Unit Twelve, because I was one of the original to answer my Lord's call from his dormancy, and raise him from the depths of slumber. The last, actually. But that is of little consequence.

My own Trainer does not know of this. She calls me, frequently, "Dusk-new-our", "Dusk-er" and sometimes even "Dusky." I do not let anyone else call me the latter. Several have tried in jest, but that was short-lived. She is the only one who reserves that honor. My Lord does not care for our lives beyond what he sees, and therefore does not know.

It's a rather nice thing.

Almost like keeping work, and pleasure, separate. My pleasure is assisting my Trainer; my work is what my Lord commands me to do.

I hear his voice in my head.

It's a pain of my anatomy, actually.

The projection, my Listener (the humans have dubbed it some silly term, likening it to the antennae on a Dustox), tells me exactly what my Lord requires.

After all, I am Unit Twelve, my Lord's servant.

My Listener tells me the whims of my Lord, and whom he calls to his court.

Unfortunately, for the humans, he calls those whom have died.

Oh, did I not make that clear? My Lord is Giratina. He rules the Torn World, the world of Sprits. And I receive instructions to bring humans to him, when their time as expired on this plane. I get many who don't understand this. I only do what my Lord commands. Is that so wrong?

Many fight me. They do not realize I'm only doing my job. What my Lord commands me to. He only takes those whose time is no longer required. That's it. Why is that so difficult to understand?

I always ask them about their lives as we journey to Torn World. They usually end up telling me, because they are scared of My Lord and his prowess, and his practices, and his assigned duty by The-God-Of-All, Arceus. It helps the Called regain some sense of being, at least…

Others have the honor of taking Those-Of-Us, the Pokémon, to the Torn World for My Lord. As I was the last of the Twelve, I am only instructed to bring Humans. It's not so bad. I learn many things from the humans.

It's not so bad.

Really…

Just because I take humans to the Torn World doesn't make me a bad Pokémon, does it?

After all, I'm only doing my job.

That was, until the day I was called to bring my Trainer to My Lord.

It was a sunny day, and we had stopped in a small town to rest and regain our strength for the journey. My Listener buzzed impatiently, and I stopped our Contest Training to heed the call. My Lord was calling urgently for my Trainer.

I couldn't tell you why. She was not sick.

She had not been injured.

But my Lord was calling for her through my Listener.

I swung to her automatically and reached for her, then I stopped, hands hanging in the air. She recoiled in fear, crying out in confusion. "Dusky! What are you doing?"

One of the others, a Metagross whom my Trainer had rescued and who became her very first Pokémon, looked to me, each of his four brains whirring. I'm sure he had heard the Call; my Listener is sometimes non-directional, and if My Lord calls loudly enough, others can hear it.

He lumbered over to stand in front of her, her eyes widened in fear. "What's going on, you two! The Contest is tomorrow, no fighting!"

"You will not take her." He stated calmly, ignoring the human.

I will say this, when a Metagross speaks, it's hard to ignore. Humans can only perceive one voice speaking, but each brain has its own way of speaking. One jabs into the mind using a psychic trick, another screeches horribly in the upper spectrum, almost visibly distorting the air, the final rumbles almost imperceptibly to humans in the lower octaves.

"My Lord calls for her." I explained. "I must heed his wishes."

"You will not take her." The Metagross repeated, each of his four voices echoing in a harmonious chorus. Almost without thinking, he put up a Reflect shield that would block any attempt that I would take.

I looked to him, and his simple conviction.

Why do they fight death?

It's inevitable.

I'm only doing my job….is that so wrong?

Dusknoir, the Gripper Pokémon. The antennae on its head captures radio waves from the world of spirits that command it to take people there.