12, 43, 97, 28, 46. Red numbers floated around in a black nexus, spaced out over a vast span. The numbers would soon flash. One number and then immediately another. It could easily go from 34 to 59 to 21 in a span of one and a half seconds. It was all he saw as he slept and it scared him.
“Clarke? Clarke!" yelled a motherly voice. It rang inside his head but the numbers kept flashing.
42, 17, 39, 23. The numbers flashed more intensely, forcing him to grit his teeth as it did so. The brain could only process so much and this was overloading him big time. He wanted to wake up, desperately. It was the only way it would stop. The numbers changed even faster, forcing him to unconsciously grip his sheets tighter. Such a pain it was to deal with. Sweat was beading down his forehead, but suddenly the numbers slowed down. It was as if something had calmed his mind, easing any type of pain going on in his head.
The call of his name jolted him awake. Seventeen year old Clarke Miles laid in a pool of his own sweat as his mother rushed over to him. She gave him a massive hug and cradled him to her, much to his protest. Clarke was never use to being babied but after his first ‘episode' his parents made sure to keep a close eye on his well being. His mom’s stark red hair flowed down to her waist as she looked over at him with deep emerald green eyes. It gave him a sense of tranquility.
“How are you feeling sweetie? Do you need water? Food?" she asked quickly, wondering if it would happen again.
“N-no but your crushing me!" he yelped as he finally pushed her away.
Getting out the bed, he turned back to his bed and saw the puddle of sweat that laid there. Clark was about five foot ten inches, lanky but not skinny. He looked like an average teenage with shaggy brown hair and green eyes. This had to have been the worst case in months as he never released that much sweat. He needed to find a cure or some type of fix for this, and fast.
Clarke was enrolled in a program for teenagers who opted to start their Pokémon journey after the age of 13. It was to give those teens a chance to go away from home and experience the work alongside Pokémon. Tomorrow marked the first day of his journey. His mother was in complete protest to this idea but his father thought it would be good for him. His father was a stern, gruff man. His brown hair was similar to Clarke's except it was shaded over with gray on the sides. “A man needs to put aside his own problems for the well being of the world." was his most general quote. Either way, Clarke was going on this journey.
He finally got dressed after his mother left the room. Taking into account that it was mid September, he opted for the white shirt, black hoodie and denim jeans. Hi tops included. His goal for today was to buy all the gear he would need for his trip. Running down the stairs, skipping every two steps, he zipped into the kitchen. His mom turned to him and looked at him irritated. Of course she didn’t want to have anything to do with this Pokémon journey, but she couldn’t argue with her sons’ happiness.
“You are not to leave the town for any reason, understand? You start tomorrow not today,” she said as she crossed her arms, a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other.
“Alright mom geez,” he groaned as he grasped a toaster pastry and walked out the door.
The town wasn’t very small but everyone knew each other by a first name basis. His goals were clear: get his supplies, get his trainer identification, and head home. Simple enough but the life of this budding adventurer wasn’t going to be very simple. Stepping through the motorized doors the PokeMart, he stared at the items on display. The Pokemart was fairly big, not much bigger than a drugstore or convenience store. It held multiple aisles of Pokémon food, healing items and toys. It was relatively cold inside as it was used to keep the stock fresh. He found PokeBalls, Potions, even treats for each type of Pokémon. It was a dream come true for him. Looking through the different isles he found the right amount of gear he needed and all for a good price.
“Score,” he said as he shoved all of the items into a shopping basket and put what seemed to be a laptop bag onto his back.
He set the items down on the register and the clerk engaged him conversation a bit. All about things of where he was heading, what Pokémon he was trying to encounter, that type of thing. He told the clerk that he was a starting trainer and that he really didn’t have much of a goal aside from capturing some decent Pokémon. The clerk stopped and stared. Picking up the Pokeball set, he put it down on the counter. The cashier behind the counter had his hair tied up in a ponytail. He was chewing on a toothpick as he looked at Clarke. He couldn't be any more than a few years older than him.
“Now I can’t sell you these without seeing your starter.”
The world froze for him. How the heck was he supposed to get by this one? He figured if he got away with it, he could catch some Pokémon and gain a leg up on his peers. Groaning, he clutched his head and looked up at the man. Numbers where passing by his head, spinning around and doing loops as well.
“13, 24, 67, 43, 56, 98” he muttered as he stood shakily against the counter.
“What are you giving me boy? Lotto Numbers?” he said as he watched him with concern and interest. Seeming merciful, he put the PokeBalls in the bag and charged him for everything. A few lotto numbers could be useful anyways.
Walking out of the store, he was unsure of what to do. He had PokeBalls but should he go get his license first? Walking along the city street he saw that he was nearing the town outskirts. It was a forest that held different Pokémon and it lead out to the route. Adjusting the strips of his backpack, he ran in. He told his mom he would stay in the town but what she knew wouldn’t hurt her. Scouring the openings, climbing the trees and checking different bushes. Not one Pokémon could be found.
“Just my luck! This must be karma or something!” He yelled as he kicked an oak tree near him. The vibrations trailed up along the base of the tree and awoke a Venipede. It fell on to his shoulder and looked at him through sleepy eyes. The eyes widened and the Venipede hit Clarke with its head. Knocking him over, it jumped up and down on his chest, chattering angrily. He groaned and held it away from him.
“Feisty little bugger, aren’t you?” he said as he held it back with one hand while reaching behind him with the other. He managed to find the PokeBall slot on his backpack and pull out a fresh, glistening Pokeball. Holding it to the side, he was prepared to throw it when the Venipede stared at it enviously. It was so shiny and luscious that it stirred the very soul of the Poison type. Clarke was very confused at the event going on he put the Pokeball behind his back and the Venipede seemed like it was on the verge of tears.
“You can’t be more than a few years old...but I need this PokeBall,” he muttered as he watched the Venipede suck on the PokeBall, coating it in nasty bug juices.
“I…guess you can keep it but you have to come along Me.” he said as the eyes of the Venipede twinkled and snuggled against him. He was a sucker for the cute ones. Deciding not to separate the Venipede from its toy and due to the fact he hasn’t established a trainer profile, he hid the centipede in his bag. It was slightly bulged but if the Pokémon didn’t move then it would be alright.
Walking from the woods, he made sure he was extremely careful with his package. He walked as fast as he could to his school so he could pick up his trainer I.D. Walking through the door, a blast of cool win hit his face as he closed his eyes to lessen the stinging. A woman sitting behind the desk was constantly typing on her computer. No doubt using that new Chatter social networking site or something. She chewed on her pencil as he twirled a lock of her red hair around her finger. After filling out a few sets of paperwork and waiting for an hour, he was finally awarded his trainer card.
“And all we need is a 10 digit number sequence for it to be complete," the receptionist said as she continued typing up other peoples in formation. Brushing a lock of hair out of his face, he winced and gripped the side of his head. The numbers had come back. The cursed red numbers floated by her head and arranged just in the sequence he needed.
Without even looking at him in pain or looking up from her keyboard, she confirmed that the number had not been taken and assigned it within the cards black strip. Holding it out, he gazed at the green design and the light bouncing off of the laminate. It was truly a special moment for him. It was interrupted, however, by a squirming in his bag and that caused him to spaz out a bit.
“Are you ok?" a lady asked as Clarke was doing quite a wild dance. In times like these only one thing could be done.
“S-sorry I have diarrhea!" he yelled as he ran from the school, not stopping until he reached home. Once inside, he made sure to keep quiet and sneak past the kitchen.
He walked by the kitchen but was stopped by his mother who was stirring a wooden spoon inside of a black metal pot. She motioned him closer and he trudge dejectedly.
“Open the bag. I want to see what you bought."
He turned to her and clutched his stomach.
“But mom I need to use the bathroom!"
“No buts, bag. Open. Now," she said a tone that showed she meant business.
Groaning, he took his bag off and held it out to her. He knew he was screwed. All signs told him he would be. Closing his eyes, he awaited his punishment. All that was heard was a zip, a bit of rustling and a hum of approval.
“Wow Clarke I am really impressed. I was expecting you to come home with like, a wild Pokémon in your bag."
He grabbed his bag and looked through it. Venipede was gone. How in the world? It was there when he got home because he felt the squirming. Where did it go? Ignoring the fact, he hugged his mother and went up stairs, locking the door.
Setting the bag down, he sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. He was feeling guilty by the minute. He had to find the Venipede fast before anything bad happened. Looking up he saw the Venipede eating his pillow.
“Say...HEY WHAT THE HELL!" he yelled as he tackled the centipede and pulled it away from the pillow.
“Geez, what am I going to do with you?"
Clarke held up the Pokeball and immediately it began sucking on it. Wrapping up a bundle of old clothes, he made a bed for the Venipede. It skittered over to it and soon slept with the Pokeball between its stubby black arms. Clarke couldn't help but smile as he got in the bed, still fully clothed. He wanted to get as much of an early start as possible on his big day.
“Where gonna go far Venipede..," he said yawning. “Just you wait and see,"
Tomorrow finally came and Clarke was eating downstairs for breakfast. Venipede had stayed upstairs and slept while he made sure his stomach was full. His mother was hugging him contently while his father was giving him advice on how to handle the harsh world. All he could do was nod and try not to suffocate on his cereal.
He put this gear and the Venipede in the bag and took on last look at his room. He wasn't coming back here for a while. The Venipede looked back too. It had made a small connection to it. Walking out of the door, he waved back to his father while his mother was crying hysterically. Shaking his head, he set out into the world. He saw many other parents saying good bye to their children and sending them off. It was quite the touching moment but Clarke wanted to get as far ahead as he could.
About after twenty minutes of walking, he wished he had a bike. It was worth the walk as he had made it to the outer edge of the forest before most to the other trainers. He could see a small pier where fisherman sat and cast their lines into the water. Before heading over there, he pulled Venipede out of his bag and set it on his shoulder.
“Your getting a free ride so no complaints,"
“Ven Veni," it chattered in reply.
Looking by the dock, both of them saw a Lotad crawling across the ground. He turned to the Venipede and began coaxing it.
“In order to stay, I'm going to need some cooperation out of you. I'll let you have your toy as long as you battle here and there for me ok?
The poison type thought for a second. A few battles couldn't hurt and it would get to play with its favorite toy so why not? The Venipede hopped down and charged towards the Lotad. He stopped and thought to himself.
“Using a Pokémon I haven't really caught yet..I got skill,"
The Venipede jumped as far as its stubby legs would let it as it moved in to attack. The Lotad was using Water Gun on it but it seemed to have little effect.
“Hmm oh! Venipede's Bug and Poison. That means.. Venipede use Bug Bite!"
Venipede exposed its mouth and a set of fangs glowed white and enlarged as it hopped on Lotad and began biting it repeatedly. Lotad writhed in pain and shook itself to make Venipede let go. Clarke used a book he had on the different types of moves each Pokémon knew. When he got to Venipede in the book, Venipede was thrown off of Lotad and Lotad began to charge up an attack. The dish on its head began glowing. Not a good sign.
“Damn.. Err oh Grass is weak to Poison. Use Poison Fang now!"
The centipede charged once more and bit the Lotad with fangs glowing a sickly purplish pink The Lotad shook
again but was soon poison to the extent that the Solarbeam was canceled. Clarke took the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. He figured he'd at least catch Lotad and if Venipede wants to come then it will. Grabbing two Pokeballs, he threw two Pokeballs at the same time. The first one hit Venipede and after two seconds one hit Lotad. They were both absorbed by transparent red light and sucked into the Pokeball. The Balls shooed in unison. Once..Twice..Thrice..
Note: Obviously I didn't used the number power a lot and I'm going into it more in the next installment.