From: SleepyAlakazam (chadderh@aol.comhggfass)
Subject: [PW!] Oolanko's Sadness
Newsgroups: alt.games.nintendo.pokemon
Date: 2000/04/16
Warning: This PokeWars! interactive fanfic may contain graphic depictions of
nudity/violence/gore/human and pokemon misery. Reader discretion is advised.
Oolanko sat down in the nearby Pewter Forest. The trees, the grass, the
wildlife. The glowing beauty of it all gave way to his concealed lighter side.
He enjoyed this, even in daylight.
"Ah, how wonderful. So peaceful, so quiet. Nothing but the inane chatter of the
wildlife to disturb me. The perfect place." he whispered to himself. Pidgey
flew tree-to-tree in flocks; Caterpie quietly dug small sanctuaries for
themselves.
Oolanko began to think.
"My condition now...how can I be alive? I can understand the missing flesh on
my hand, but...a huge abdominal wound magically closed? Seems so inhuman. Might
I be undead? It could explain why I never bleed...why I don't have to
breathe...my skin. But being undead...how could it happen? It makes no sense."
he took a deep sigh. "All this is so confusing. I can't fully live my life
until I find some answers."
He looked up through the cracks in the trees. "I might as well be going now.
It's getting dark, and about to rain." He pushed himself off the soft grass,
and headed back to Pewter City.
-
"Ah, a wonderful revival of my body. I love sleep. I love life. Haha, all so
wonderful!" he cheerfully said to himself, arising from his grassy bed.
He entered the main street of Pewter, keeping his cloak low, as usual. He
didn't feel the need to disturb these people anymore, seeing as they were
simply trying to get on with their lives.
"That...reminds me. I should see mother." he said, pulling his cloak back to
reveal his dark-gray skin, his hairless scalp, his half-decayed ears, and his
eyes. Not eyes, really. More like orbs. White orbs, simply rotating around
sockets.
"Her house must be around this corner, if she hasn't moved or something
similar."
Oolanko rounded the corner, eyeing the house. Still as he remembered it. Moving
fast as to avoid detection, he went around to the back of the house. He could
see inside the window, noone inside. The house had changed much; definately not
as he knew it.
"Mother must recognize me, of course. Even if I have aged, she knows what my
voice sounds like. Of course, she must know." he said, creeping around to the
front door. He placed his left hand on the knob, turning slowly. The door
opened, and he crept inside.
"Mother? Mother, it's Oolanko! I'm home! Where are you? I wish to see you,
mother. Please, come out here!" he yelled. Footsteps from the stair. Mother!
"Honey! Get the gun!" an unfamiliar voice beckoned. Mother? No, couldn't be.
His mother wasn't that young. Who was this strange woman, and who did she talk
to?
"Hey, you! Get outta our house! I don't wanna have tah use dis on you!"
bellowed a rather bulky man, aiming a shotgun at Oolanko.
"What? I mean you no harm, truly! Where is my mother? I am Oolanko Mazakala.
Where is Sheeba Mazakala? Where is she?" Oolanko nervously said to both the
inhabitants.
"Mazakala? Oh...that woman. You're her son?" said the man, lowering the gun.
"Yes, I am. I wish to see my mother now."
"I'm sorry, Oolanko, but...we bought this house from your mother, two weeks
before her death. She had a fatal heart condition; it couldn't be cured. She
gave us the house at such a low price because she didn't have anyone to give
the money to. I'm really sorry." gloomfully said the woman.
"What!? You do not speak the truth! Out of this house, you vile burglars! My
mother beckons!"
"I know it's hard to believe, but your mother is dead, Oolanko. I'm truly
sorry. We can direct you to her grave, if you want."
"I will see this grave, and prove you wrong! Both of you!"
-
"This is it."
Oolanko walked over to the black-gold gate, reading the above inscription.
"Pewter Graveyard. This is definately it. I shall go in, then." he said,
opening the gate, and stepping on to the soft, wet grass. The morning dew
hadn't been evaporated yet, and it gave the graveyard a bit more of a lighter
feeling.
He looked out at all the rows of gravestones. Some big, some small. Some
intricate, some simple. All graves. "Row...3. Grave...5." he said, eyeing over
the stones. He found his destination.
"Sheeba...A....Mazakala?! No, no this cannot be true!" Oolanko screamed in
agony. He laid his face on the curved stone. Tears streamed down his face.
"My...mother...dead. WHY!?" he screamed, rawing out his lungs, pushing his
vocal cords to the maximum. More tears. More sadness. Why did this have to
happen? Why?
"How long has it been since my death? How old am I? So confusing...agh!" he
thought to himself, silently agonizing at his new-found headache. Throbbing,
throbbing, throbbing. It hurt so. The sadness, the pain, all too much. He
passed out.
Will Oolanko be able to move on? How old IS he? Does he have any aspirin? Find
out in the next exciting installment!
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(_(_)
Butt.
(_(_)
Did you know that the Bible has been translated into Klingon?
Heh fools stop reading.