Subject: [PW!] Morrigan’s sad tale begins…
Date: 7 Apr 1999 06:58:25 GMT
From: "Morrigan the Chosen"
Organization: Clan of Xymox
[Ah, after weeks of lurking, I’ve finally decided to get my feet wet - so
here’s my grand entrance to the PokéWars. I must dedicate this to all those
who think all newbies are trolls. Have hope, there are some intelligent
souls out there!]
* * *
This story is of a lady named Morrigan. She is a young woman at 15,
definitely not a little girl. At five and a half feet tall and 121 pounds,
she is satisfied with her physical dimensions. She refuses to be like some
of her peers who feel they are obese even at 90 pounds, or less! (Such a
lack of self-worth.) She has wavy black hair which reaches the bottom of
her shoulder blades; her eyes are the darkest shade of brown you’ll ever
see, yet could never be mistaken for black. She wears two silver earrings
in each ear, and one in her navel. All of her jewelry is silver, just like
all of her clothes are a shade of grey. Some may think of her as drab, but
being drab is exactly how she wants to appear.
The story of her past is fairly ordinary. She grew up in a small house on
the outskirts of Cerulean City. Her mother stayed home as a housewife,
taking care of Morrigan and her brother Donovan. Morrigan always thought
her mother should get a job somewhere, that being a housewife was
stereotypical and even a bit sexist, but mother honestly enjoyed doing the
chores which Morrigan disliked so readily. As for her father, he was a
successful explorer and mapmaker. He spent most of his time mapping out the
mountain ranges headed by Mount Moon. Morrigan would revel in the stories
he would tell her and her mother - the danger, mystery, and excitement
which stemmed from the unknown sent shivers down her spine, yet it would
pique her interest as well. The mountains were always looming over the
horizon, taunting Morrigan to come see up close what the mystery was all
about. Donovan felt the same way. Being twins it seemed as if they could
read each other’s mind, whether they were close together or miles apart.
On their 10th birthday, Donovan left home to begin his quest to become a
master Pokémon trainer. Morrigan was devastated to see him go, and even a
bit jealous as well. Mother begged her not to go follow in her brother’s
footsteps, saying that travelling the countryside was not proper for a
girl, but what did a housewife know? She respected mother’s wishes, and
stayed behind. From time to time, Morrigan’s mind would catch a glimpse of
Donovan’s - just long enough to let each other know that they were each
doing well, but he never called or wrote to let their parents know. Little
did anyone know of the repercussions this would create; it wasn’t too long
before mother literally worried herself to death. Worse still, Donovan
failed to come to the funeral.
For the next five years, Morrigan did all of the housework which she used
to despise. Taking care of two seemed less time-consuming than four. There
were many days (even weeks) where she had the house to herself while father
was away - not too strange considering most kids her age were on Pokémon
journeys which kept them away from home for months at a time.
A few days ago Morrigan received a telegram, which brought more bad news:
We regret to inform you that your father is missing and presumed deceased
somewhere in the mountain ranges headed by Mt. Moon. STOP.
Some of his belongings have been recovered and can be claimed (in person)
by visiting the police station here in Pewter City. STOP.
Suddenly, Morrigan realized she was now cooking for one.
Morrigan packed her things and left for Pewter City the following morning.
She had never been to Pewter before, but knew that she would have to pass
through the rocky tunnels of Mount Moon itself in order to get there, so
she grabbed one of father’s many maps and tucked it away in her knapsack.
Route 4 wasn’t overly long, and before she knew it, she was standing at the
entrance to the Mount Moon tunnel. Morrigan lit her lantern and stepped
inside, wondering if making a journey like this without a single Pokémon
was a wise idea. It was an arduous task navigating the passageways; she
stumbled and fell numerous times over a mislaid rock or stalagmite. After a
few hours in the darkened tunnels, she walked into a dead-end; the path on
the map had been blocked off by a cave-in of sorts.
Morrigan was forced to work down an unmapped passageway which became
narrower and narrower as she trudged along. That’s when she felt him, it
was Donovan calling her! Perhaps it really was him, able to cut through
rocks with mental telepathy, or perhaps she was just delusional. No, it was
him, she was certain of it! He was calling her to reassure her, to make
sure that she was alright. Morrigan was stricken with awe, the voice
sounded so distant yet so distinct. It was then that her light went out…
Morrigan stumbled in the dark, calling out loud for her brother to help
her. She tripped over yet another rock and fell to the ground, her head
crashing into the wall. As she lay in a dizzying stupor, something took
hold of her body. Its cold leathery skin enveloped her, a pair of fiery red
eyes danced in front of her face. A waft of hot air escaped from its gaping
maw which to a half unconcious girl felt almost, sensual. She could feel
the hunger, the desire this creature had for her, it was as exciting as it
was terrifying. Then, there was a sharp pain, a rigid pain which slowly
lulled Morrigan into unconsciousness…
Morrigan awoke in a bed that was entirely not her own. The air was crisp
and cool, as if laying outside.
“Ah, you’re finally awake. Welcome back to the world of the living!”
Her eyesight was blurred, but she could tell the source of the voice was
only inches away.
“Where am I? Who are you?” Morrigan coughed out meekly.
“Why Morrigan, it’s me, your father! You are in my cabin, here on a
clearing in the Mount Moon mountain range.”
“Father, you are alive! But, I received a telegram from Pewter City saying
you had died! How did you find me?” Morrigan coughed aloud, and suddenly
her head started to throb.
“Oh, don’t thank me. If this Clefairy here hadn’t found you in the tunnels,
you would’ve been a goner for sure.”
“A Clefairy?” she thought, as her eyesight began to focus. A ball of pink
fuzz hovered by her feet.
“Clefairy fairy clefairy,” said the creature, obviously overjoyed that
Morrigan was awake.
“Here, keep this compress on your head; you have a concussion, you know.”
The compress was frigid, numbing her scalp. The strain of trying to awaken
was too much for her eyes - the weakness overtook Morrigan and she fell
into a deep slumber…
When Morrigan came to the second time, her eyesight was much better than
before. It was now nighttime, a solitary candle on a distant table was the
only source of light. Father was nowhere to be found, but the Clefairy lay
asleep at her feet. Morrigan slowly sat up, and the pink furball did the
“Fairy fairy clefairy,” it muttered as Morrigan leaned over to grab it.
“What am I going to name you?” she asked the Clefairy, as if it would
answer her right back. “Hmmm, what goes well with Clefairy? How about…
Tinkerbell? Nah, too silly. Uh, what about… Clementina? Yes, I’ve decided.
I can call you Clem or Tina for short, but Clementina it is. Do you like
that name, Clementina?”
“Clefairy!” she nodded. Who knows if Clefairies come in male and female
genders, the name just felt right, even if feminine. “Father, are you home?
Are you asleep?” Morrigan had that uneasy feeling common to all people, as
if there was no one else in the house. She stumbled to her feet, forcing
her way across the room. The window was wide open, and the chill was too
much to bear. As Morrigan stretched her arms out to grasp both shutters at
once, there came an alarming screech from the darkest corner of the room.
Suddenly, a Zubat emerged into the dim candlelight, making a beeline right
for her face! Morrigan fell across the windowsill out of fright, only to be
placed back on her feet by a strong gust of wind which flew into the room,
extinguishing the candle flame. It was pitch black for a second, and then
there were a pair of flames, floating in the darkness, gliding towards her
Morrigan could not scream; the fear paralyzed her to the core. This was the
same creature which attacked her in the cave, now here in her room! Yet
something was different about it; it seemed more human.
“Where do you think you’re going?” It demanded, in a voice all too
familiar. This was - her father? “I’m glad the Zubat stopped you, you could
have gotten yourself, well, hurt.”
Her mind was racing. “My own father was the one who attacked me, and then
saved my life, and is now terrorizing me again?” She pondered the thought
for only a brief second, until she was interrupted by this creature which
had now placed its hand on her cheek. Its nails were long and sharp, yet
well manicured. Perhaps the most terrifying aspect was that this thing was
tapping into her thoughts, much like Donovan would. Of course, this was a
force more powerful than anything Donovan could ever conjure. Morrigan felt
her mind being raped as the monster which stood before her absorbed her
“No my dear, I am not your father in life. He has long since departed this
world. I am your new father, your father in the afterlife.” He curled his
gnarled thumb underneath her chin, grasping both cheeks like a vice. “You
see Morrigan, you are one like me now, we are one in the same. You would
have died in the caverns just like your father had I not resurrected you. I
have given you my gift so that our legacy may continue through the ages.”
“What are you rambling about? Who, what are you? What gift?”
“You will learn all, my child. In due time, in due time…” The fires danced
so close it was if they stood on her nose. Morrigan felt his lips close in
on hers. They kissed only for an instant; a sweet, incestuous locking of
lips from which she could not force herself away.
“I must go now, Morrigan. You will be able to find me if you choose to look
in the right places. Take this Zubat as your familiar; think of it as if
mine eyes were keeping watch over you.” The Pokémon hung from the ceiling
just a few feet away.
“Remember, should you need to find me, you already know where to look,” he
whispered. His hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers coming to
rest just behind her ear. Morrigan closed her eyes as his fingernails poked
at her skin; when she opened her eyes again, he had vanished. The fires
were gone, her trance was lifted. As if by magic, the candle flame awakened
by its own accord. All was seemingly back to normal, except for the Zubat
which cowered once again in the dark corner of the room. Morrigan
approached it gingerly, even though it has no eyes to see. There was a tag
around its neck which sparkled from the candlelight:
[Zubby. Please do not feed me the animals.]
“Well, Zubby is a masculine name, so it must be a ‘he’,” she pondered.
Surprised that Zubby did not bite her hand off, Morrigan took an even
greater chance and reached out to pet him. He paid her no mind, so she left
him alone after a few short strokes. His sleek fur reminded Morrigan of
Clementina. Just where did she go in Morrigan’s hour of need? She called
aloud for her.
“Clefairy Clefairy!” The shout came from the adjacent room. Morrigan
hobbled in her direction, an act which stirred Zubby. He flew smack dab
into Morrigan’s back (silly blind bat!), and then lifted up and came to
rest on her shoulder.
There were a few candles lit in this room, but the most light came from the
computer monitor which sat on the desk in the middle of the room. The
screen saver was enabled - a Porygon floated across a white screen,
ricocheting off of the edges as if trapped in a shoebox. Morrigan began to
stare at it intently; it seemed so lifelike even though it just floated
“Hello Morrigan, her name is Telex,” said the computer, in a synthesized
voice. Was this the Porygon talking to her?
“Please open the door to your left.” Morrigan turned her head, and opened
the door, which revealed a closet.
“The coat inside, it is yours. Please take it.” How did it know? She
removed the coat from the hanger, and slid her arms into the sleeves. It
was waist-length with a large lapel, and very close to a perfect fit! She
examined the lining, and found some ruggedly stitched pockets.
“There are pockets in the lining of the coat. These are for your PokéBalls.
Please open the briefcase at your feet.” More strangeness from a talking
computer! Morrigan kneeled down a bit, and looked at the suitcase. A plaque
lay on the top of the case, with a name engraved within: “Dimitri”.
Morrigan proceeded to open the briefcase. The inside of the case was padded
with foam with eight circles cut into the material. These circles were
meant to house PokéBalls, of which six were already in place. These were
not ordinary red and white PokéBalls either. Two of which were solid black;
two were shades of grey; one was half black, half white; and the last (most
certainly her favourite) was half black marble, half grey marble, with gold
trim. Morrigan took each one from their housing and placed them into the
coat’s six small pockets.
“There is one more thing you shall require,” Telex interrupted. Require for
what? What was all of this stuff for? “I’m not a Pokémon trainer,” she
“Open the drawer at your waist. This is your Pokédex. It serves as an
encyclopedia on Pokémon knowledge, as well as a data organizer, email
assistant, and task manager.” It looked nothing like Donovan’s Pokédex.
Cased in plastic textured to resemble black marble, it had a large screen
with only a few buttons at the bottom. A stick was attached to the side of
“Your Pokédex has a 4.1” TFT color display, a lithium-ion rechargeable
battery, and 16 meg of RAM. No keypad is required thanks to the stylus and
“STOP IT!” Morrigan exclaimed. “I don’t know what all of that means, and I
really don’t care! I am NOT a Pokémon trainer, nor do I wish to be one. I
will not have a part in this foolishness.” She tossed the Pokédex to the
floor, where Clementina began to toy with it. As she began to remove the
coat, a pain quickly arose in her neck, like a needle piercing the skin.
Morrigan whelped in pain, falling to her knees. Her ears began to ring at a
deafening pitch. She was utterly helpless.
“You may not understand now, Morrigan dear, but soon you will. The fates of
thousands rest on your shoulders, and you mustn’t let them down.” The
Porygon was staring directly at her, ready to jump right out of the monitor
should the need arise. Morrigan winced as the pitch continued to increase
and the needle dug deeper through her flesh.
“Know that the more you resist, an equal amount of pain shall be
inflicted,” Telex explained. “Don’t you understand? I am yours, and you are
mine.” Morrigan pulled her hands off of her ears and grabbed the Pokédex
away from Clementina, at which point the pain ceased. She felt dizzy now
and could not stand even though she tried. It was close to dawn and she so
desperately wished to be outside, away from this terrible house, this
terrible dream. She placed the Pokédex in her exterior coat pocket. As
Morrigan looked at the computer screen once more, Telex was gone.
“Maybe I was just dreaming! Talking Pokémon, everyone knows there’s no such
thing.” Morrigan crawled back to bed, weary and sore. This time, she made
sure Clementina slept by her head, not at her feet.
Morrigan tossed and turned in bed for hours, unable to sleep as soundly as
she had the last few occasions.
“Screeee!” It was Zubby who made her jump out from underneath the sheets,
but it was Clem who really surprised her this time.
“Grrrr! Fairy Fairy FAIRY!” Clem was extremely upset, and rightfully so.
There was another intruder in their midst…
“Jiggly? Jigglypuff.” Its gaudy eyes made Morrigan ill. What other girls
saw in the repulsing creature called Jigglypuff she could never comprehend.
Clem leapt from the pillow, landing right on top of the bloated sac of a
Pokémon. They scrapped it out for a bit, slapping and pounding each other
silly. Finally, Morrigan couldn’t take it any longer, and she reached in
and separated the two, much to Clem’s dismay.
“Get out you ugly thing. Get out!” Its eyes were menacingly large and
obtrusive. It was those eyes that changed her life forever. Those eyes
which would not leave her alone, no matter how much she pleaded. Morrigan
reached into her pocket and retreived the Pokédex, if only to see what it
might have to say about this fiend. She felt empowered by this machine, but
not because of its knowledge. This was a physical prowess which began to
stir within her, a sense of strength and urgency as if her very life
depended on it. Morrigan took the stylus from its sheath, and with reckless
abandon, effortlessly rammed it deep into the Jigglypuff’s left eye. The
tables were turned - Morrigan was no longer the victim, now she had become
the aggressor. Hot Pokémon blood shot all over her hand as the menace fell
to the floor face-first, the stylus wedging itself into the very brain of
this vile monster. Morrigan was enraged, her senses awakened by the
violence and gore. Her hand began moving instinctively to her face,
naturally cleaning the blood off with her tongue, enthralled with the
taste. Through this Jigglypuff’s death, she had found true life. How
It seemed as if Morrigan was facing one ordeal right after another. The sun
was up now, and Morrigan ran to the window to breathe in some fresh air,
air not tainted with the smell of bloody death.
I must get out of here, right now,” she said aloud. Clementina cocked an
ear in her direction. “You guys are coming with me.” Morrigan pulled out
the two black orbs from her coat and recalled Clem and Zubby. She grabbed
her black knapsack from the floor and slung it over her shoulder, when
RING RING! PHONE CALL, PHONE CALL!
RING RING! PHONE CALL, PHONE CALL!
The vis-a-phone is ringing, but who would place a call to a lonely cabin
such as this? Did someone else know she was there?
* * *
[Whew! I can’t wait to see who will step up first… maybe a disgrunted
Please cc all reply posts to email@example.com - thanks!
All stories which involve Morrigan will be archived on my web site. The
preceding story can be found at:
http://pages.prodigy.net/omd2000/PW/8 April 1999.html