Chapter 35
"Drak"
"Namida? Namida, are you okay?"
Namida pushed herself upwards, ignoring the burning pain from her arm. Whatever had wounded her there felt like it had been poisoned. She glared at Hana.
"What do you think?"
"Did you see that?" Hana gestured towards where the apparition had appeared for a few moments. "Do you think-"
"Let's get something straight, Hana." Namida pulled herself into a sitting position, noting how Hana immediately began fussing with her wound again. She wanted to push her away, but in the end let her do what she wanted. "There's me, Kagakusha Namida, and there's you, Kagakusha Hana. There aren't any others."
"Are you sure?" Hana sounded frightened to diasgree with her counterpart, but couldn't resist contesting her on this point. "...There could be others we don't know about..."
Namida shoved her hands away from her more out of anger then out of an actual attempt to get Hana to stop. Hana knew this, so simply continued her efforts. Namida's voice was tight. "If there are others, they're too weak to manifest properly and take control as we do. Therefore, they aren't even worth consideration. Agh, what are you doing?"
"Sorry..." Hana tied off the end of the newly dressed wound, sitting back. "I couldn't help it. But if...if there aren't others, then who was that?"
Namida made an angry noise and tried to get up. "What does it matter? They aren't here now, so it doesn't matter."
"Do you hear something...?" Hana looked upwards. Namida was quick to debase anything that Hana said.
"You're imagining things. Come on, we need to try and fix this place up a bit. It's not safe in here..."
~~~
"Please...you have to wake up..."
Dr. Dowasure was not concerned in particular for the woman's welfare. She was as cruel to him, sometimes even more so, then she was to the rejected and failed experiments.
It was the thought of death that frightened him.
Dr. Dowasure had never been able to deal with death. The thought that something could stop moving, stop breathing, stop being forever was foreign and frightening to him. Trying to think of himself dead one day made him shiver, and the thought of any dead creature was enough to cause him to shake. Death frightened him because he didn't understand it.
Once he had blamed himself for the death of one of the previous experiments...at the moment, he could not remember which one, but they had told him that it had lived, it was alright, and that it had been stored away safely. But still, the thought of death coupled with the thought of it being his fault still could bring him to tears.
The death, if he had truly died, and resurrection/resuscitation of Drak...the memory had almost been erased from his mind...and not by accident. Something so traumatizing to him had to be forgotten...he couldn't handle something like that weighing so heavily upon him...
Kotake...
His mind was trying to forget that horror, and yet it refused to obey him. He could not forget Kotake's death. Trying to only brought it back to him, fresher and more real. This was, at the time, his most terrifying memory. He shivered uncontrollably to think of it and felt a whimper escape his throat at the idea of it.
Everything here was his fault...and he was aware of that. But to bring the death of another person when he could have done something...that was the worst thing in the world.
That was why, instead of following Drak and the others and leaving the woman to her own devices, he was concerned. Why he knelt by her still body and shook her, trying to wake her or at least one part of her.
He couldn't let something die while he could do something about it...
"There's...there's something we have to do, I think...please?" He tried to keep his voice level, but he was getting upset and he knew it.
"Excuse me...?"
Frightened, Dr. Dowasure screamed and fell back, putting his arms in front of his face. Realizing that nothing was going to attack him, he looked out at who he believed to be his agressor. The red-haired girl looked ragged and worried.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Dr. Dowasure tried to sound authoritative, but only sounded frightened.
Atelli tried to keep her own voice level. "My...we were looking for someone, and...something happened, it's not really important. The important thing is that my friends are hurt and we need help."
Dr. Dowasure tried to register her quickly spoken words. "Hurt?"
The small boy next to her spoke up. "A lot of them. They're in a hallway..."
"Which one?" Dr. Dowasure wouldn't have remembered the way to the hallway even if they knew which one it was, but he felt obligated to ask.
Atelli turned to Nick, who shrugged. She responded in kind. "We don't remember exactly, but we could lead you there if you would follow us..."
Dr. Dowasure felt himself starting to rise, then noted the still form of the woman next to him.
"Help me wake her up first, okay? Then I'll go with you." Dr. Dowasure turned back to Dr. Kagakusha's body, shaking it gently. Atelli and Nick, seeing no other alternative, kneeled alongside him.
~~~
"Hmm..." Prof. Denka stared at Colt's prone form on the operating table. "I don't...this is very strange..."
"What? What's wrong?"
Monty had wisely decided to nap the time the two were waiting while Colt was being treated. Since Colt's injuries had been the most serious, he had to be treated first. Which meant Caleb was still stuck with a large piece of metal lodged rather uncomfortably between bone and skin. The blood flow was slowing though, which was good because he was beginning to feel light-headed.
"Well, there's..." Prof. Denka put a small electronic device on Colt's wrist and went to the computer, lookin at the screen for a few moments. "I really can't...who is that girl over there again?"
Caleb looked at where he was staring. "Ashstar?"
"Who is she?"
Caleb shrugged. "I don't know. Ella E knew her from a while ago."
Prof. Denka began typing. "Very peculiar."
"I don't mean to push, but this piece of metal?" Caleb pointed with his other hand to the offending object. "It HURTS."
"I AM aware of that." Prof. Denka's sharp voice cut whatever confidence Caleb had had. "While your injury is a matter of discomfort, his is a matter of life and death. So you're going to have to wait."
"Well, you could at least tell me why you keep talking about how 'weird' Colt is." Caleb tried to avoid moving, although the wound had opened again at his hands previous movement.
Prof. Denka went back to Colt and tapped a button on the electronic device. A brief charge of electricity went through Colt, then stopped.
"Well, your friend here..." Prof. Denka repeated his previous actions. Caleb realized he was trying to restart Colt's heart with a certain amount of alarm. Prof. Denka sighed softly and glanced over at Caleb. "His...he has a rare physical condition...and a very rare blood-type."
"And that means what?" Caleb's patience was running short.
Apparently so was Prof. Denka's. "If you knew even the rudimentary basics of medical science, you would know that for a blood transfusion you need someone with matching or compatible blood. This boy here's blood is very rare. I doubt you have it."
"Why does he need a blood transfusion, anyway?" Caleb would have gestured if he were able. "He wasn't stabbed or infected or anything. Just....kind of blown up."
Prof. Denka shook his head. "However you define 'blown up', it still has a detrimental affect on your health."
"Well, can't you GET the right blood?"
"Not that simple, unfortunately." Prof. Denka went back to his computer and continued typing. "There's only one match in the whole facility...one match with enough to give him a good chance...and that match..."
Prof. Denka stared at the screen, pressed the backspace key several times, retyped something, then stared at the screen again. Finally he turned to Caleb.
"That match has been altered recently. He might not even accept it. But it's the only choice we have."
"Well, let's hook him up and pump it in." Caleb rolled his eyes. At least THAT range of motion was available to him.
Prof. Denka staring at Caleb in sheer disbelief. Apparently realizing that Caleb was not a scientist and didn't understand the dangers of these kind of things, he decided to clarify.
"The match has been altered and mixed with three different DNA patterns...so if the blood DOES match his, of which there is NO guarantee, it could have an adverse affect on him."
Caleb stared at Colt, then back at the Professor. "Well, think of it this way. We can try and if it works, he lives. We can not try and he'll die. I think we might as well try. As long as there's a chance he'll live."
Prof. Denka went back to his computer, speaking distractedly as he typed. "You two must be close friends. You seem very concerned about him."
"Friends..." Caleb stared at Colt, then made a scoffing noise. "Feh. I don't think so."
~~~
Drak woke to a pair of purple-blue eyes staring into his own with worry. For a moment, his vision blurred and he blinked in confusion, barely able to speak.
"Cyrus...?"
"Drak, it's me!" A voice rang within his head, familiar and warm and friendly. Instantly Drak felt himself relax at the voice.
"Mewtwo, how did you..."
"Drak, are you alright?" Mewtwo sounded worried. Drak didn't blame him. He tried to sit up, then felt a pain in his arm. Suddenly, he remembered what had caused him to pass out.
"Mewtwo, I have to ask you something..."
Mewtwo paused for a moment, then closed his eyes. He sat back, pulling Drak up with him. He flicked his eyes at his arm for a moment, then refocused them back on his human companion. "About that?"
"What...does it mean...?" Drak couldn't bear to look at it for fear of falling into unconsciousness once again. Mewtwo sighed heavily.
"You aren't what you think you are...and I fear that is my fault."
"What do you mean?" Drak stared at Mewtwo curiously. Mewtwo sighed again.
"I'll show you what you truly look like..."
There was a gentle pulse around him, one that left him feeling cold, and then Drak could see perfectly.
He looked down at his arms and found that his skin was a solid black, the same color as his hair. With a choked, startled noise, he looked at his feet, his legs, and tried to look at his neck. As far as he can tell, he was a deep, dark black, all over his entire body. Black...a dark black like that...of...night...or something even worse...
His skin seemed to have a heightened sensitivity, his clothes feeling strangely peculiar, unfitting. Something felt like it was crawling over his entire body slowly, only motivated to move more with each turn of Drak's head or inspection with his fingers. He pushed his hand up one of his sleeves to scratch at his shoulder, finding a bizarre sensation underneath his fingernails. What was that...?
What was that? It felt like...fur...?
Panicked, Drak looked at himself rapidly and repeatedly, unable to discern with the pure, midnight black of his skin whether he was covered with fur or not. He ran his fingers over his body, but his sense of touch and his sense of sight would not reconcile. What was going on? Even if his fur, the thought of which alone made him slightly dizzy, was black it should at least reflect some light. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't reflecting light at all...he almost seemed to be...absorbing it. How could that be?
Raising his hands to his face, he ran his hands across the familiar contours, the wound on his forehead that had slowly healed, and yet he still was unable to discern whether or not the sensation was fur. It was too short to be fur, but it was too long to be anything else. What was going on? What had happened?
He thrust his hands into his hair, trying to cease the pounding within his brain, finding the comfortingly long strands a respite from the puzzlement of his own skin. He breathed hard and deep, struggling only to focus on his breath, but he failed, the constant scratching sensation of his chest against his shirt driving him to distraction. He could almost hear the his spin brushing, the rustling of fur against cloth. It had to, it couldn't be fur....
He seized Mewtwo's thin arms in his own dark black hands, staring at the Pokémon with frightening intensity.
"What is this?! What's wrong with me? Why are you doing this to me!? Is this some kind of sick joke? What's wrong with you-"
"Drak, listen to me..." Mewtwo sighed deeply, closing his eyes. Drak got the impression that Mewtwo did not want to look at him and that hurt and angered him all at once. "There are things I should have told you long ago..."
"Yeah, I think I'm aware of that now." Drak said with unexpected anger, noting the sad sigh that came in response to his words. Mewtwo reached forward with his three blunt fingers, taking hold of Drak's shoulder as he did so. Eclipse was frozen on her son's head, unable to move.
"I would like to say that it was for your own good, but it wasn't. I would also like to say that I had a good and worthy motive for lying to you, but I don't have one of those, either."
"So?" His voice was surprisingly passive. That was unexpected, even by Drak, and he almost felt as if some strange force had come over him, making him calm down. He let his hands fall back down to his sides.
"Well...how to begin? Drak, why are you here?"
"To rescue Ella E." Drak was sick and tired of that question. "It's not that complicated."
"No, not the..." Mewtwo put a paw to his forehead for a moment, as if trying to keep his temper, although he did not look that angry. "No, I meant, why are you in this room?"
"Something called me here."
Mewtwo paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Okay, nevermind. That was a bad place to start. Alright, let me try again. Drak, what's the first thing you remember?"
Drak looked down, staring at his own black clothing in an effort to avoid staring at his body. His clothing looked almost gray compared to the rest of him. He finally looked upwards, matching eyes with his lifelong companion. "You."
"That's right...I found you. But...not as you think I did. I guess..." Mewtwo struggled again, apparently trying to find some appropriate way to phrase his words. "Alright...Drak, right now? How you are right now? That's....how I found you originally."
Mewtwo was expecting any other reaction then the one Drak gave him.
"No."
"No?" Mewtwo looked at him in disbelief, but Drak stared back with frightening resolution. "What do-"
"No, that can't be true. I've been on this earth for thirteen years and you think that all of a sudden, you can change everything about that?"
"Drak, it's not you that's not real, it's your body. It's how you look-"
"No!" Drak cut him off angrily. "You can't just say something and erase my entire life!"
"Drak!" Mewtwo grabbed his arms and shook him angrily. "Drak, listen to me, alright?"
Drak glared at him, but was silent. "Drak, how you look doesn't change who you are."
Drak looked around as if expecting someone else to realize how outlandish this was. Utter confusion and disbelief printed squarely on his face, Drak broke free from Mewtwo's grasp. "What on-...how on earth-...of course it changes everything! This isn't like some kind of bad haircut you kept from me! This isn't just about my physical appearance, Mewtwo!" Now the expression changed to one of hurt anger. "How could you think I'd be that stupid? To just accept that? 'Oh, you're right Mewtwo, let's go home?' No! This isn't just the fact that I'm really black right now! This is entirely different!"
"Drak-"
"Shut up!"
The sound of movement beside him startled him out of righteous anger and he turned, seeing the confused and almost frightened look on the small serving boys face as he slid closer to him. Teishi reached out a hesitant hand, frightened but willing, and brushed his fingers against Drak's arm. "Drak-sama, what...?"
Drak turned back to Mewtwo, almost snarling in his throat. "What am I?"
Mewtwo was not pleased with Drak's response and turned slightly away from him, again placing a paw to his head. He was silent for a short time before speaking, almost as if he were in mental connection with something.
"Alright, I'll try to explain it more clearly this time. You're right, this isn't just a matter of your..." Mewtwo gestured emptily for a moment. "Your 'color', I guess. This is...different."
"What. am. I." Drak stared at Mewtwo, transforming fear into anger. He did not want to know, but he had to know. He had to know.
Mewtwo sighed in apparent frustration, looking upwards before turning back to him. "Alright Drak, finding you...it wasn't an accident."
Drak was silent.
"You were...you were abandoned."
"That doesn't-"
Mewtwo narrowed his eyes and held up one paw, forcing Drak into silence. "Just like I was and our 'friend' C. You were abandoned."
Drak felt a rush of almost what felt like nausea come through him, burning its way up his throat. Extreme dizziness came over him and he pitched forward, barely managing to catch himself before he collapsed on the floor again. That screaming, the same screaming that had accompanied his first visit to M-2 Specimen A was back, vicious and angry. People weren't suffering, they were angry.
The tile blurred in and out of focus as Mewtwo struggled with words.
"You...weren't...like others...Drak...you aren't...you aren't human." The words came with a great deal of pain and fear on Mewtwo's part, hesitant and jerky.
Everything was spinning again, but this time Drak refused to pass out. He had been doing that far too much lately and this time, this time he was going to stay conscious. Sickness rised in him, a hideous feeling of fear and loathing, although he wasn't sure what it was directed towards. Fear and shuddering and terror. Something was pressing on him from far away.
"You aren't...like us." Mewtwo raised a hand to rub at his head and encounted the fuzzy resistance of his mother, who was totally silent. With gentle and somewhat shaky paws, he reached upwards and pulled her off slowly, placing her on the floor. Eclipse was staring at Drak with an unreadable expression on her face, entirely silent. "I knew that when I found you. I thought maybe...you were like the twin demons...sent to capture, kill, or spy on me..."
Must stay conscious...
"But you came...you were like us in a way. But I knew...I knew that I couldn't let you just be..." Mewtwo made a noise of disgust at his own inability to express himself. "I couldn't let you alone because...if I left you like that, let you know...then I fear...I fear that maybe something will finally find you."
"What...what are you..." Drak forced words out, tongue clumsy and reluctant to move. He pushed himself upwards, staring at the wavering vision of his friend in front of him. "What are you..."
"You aren't like us...don't you think it was strange...?" Mewtwo still could not say something, so tried to move the topic. "How deeply connected we are? No one...not even true psychic trainers have that kind of link...it's unheard of. Our link is different..."
"No...no it isn't..." Drak struggled with his memories, with his stomach, with his feelings, struggling to keep all of them under control before he lapsed unwillingly into unconsciousness. "It's..."
"Drak, how your life is a mystery...you don't even know how old you are...how long have we been together? There's no measure of time for you...no one would just...it's not..." Mewtwo shook his head again. "You have...when...do you remember the...ultimate evil? Do you remember...what it was like?"
Drak shuddered violently, again feeling spasms of nausea coming to him. "The blood...so much...everywhere..."
"Drak, even I couldn't do that. You linked to that creature and you lived...that's...not possible. It's not possible for me...much less a human..."
"This isn't..."
"Why did Pokénip affect you...? Even our link cannot do that..."
"That's not even..."
"Drak, please...this is..."
Mewtwo turned towards him again, raising his arms in a moment as if in an effort to hug or in some other way touch him. However, in the end he lowered them uselessly. "Drak, I don't know what you are."
"Don't say that..."
"Drak, you aren't human..."
Drak made a coughing noise as he felt something come up the back of his throat, the soft touch of Teishi's hand on his back in concern. "Drak-sama..."
"Stop- no it isn't..."
"Drak, you aren't human, but..." Mewtwo looked towards the two other M-2's, still frozen in their place. "But you aren't one of us either. You aren't...entirely us."
Coughing, feeble words that did not want to come. "What am I then...?"
"I don't know...but I knew it could only...it wouldn't help us when we left...when..." Mewtwo focused his gace on Cyrus who was standing stock-still. "When C came and made us leave. I...hid you. I hid..." Mewtwo turned and gestured at Drak vaguely. "I hid that when we went into the world...and...I never thought this-, this wasn't even supposed to happen..."
Drak stared down at his trembling hands, the image of blood-mist and the hideous voice echoing in his brain, his fingers thin and such a deep ebony black. Shivering fear came over him, hesitance, reluctance, and deep sadness.
"You have writing on your arm..." Mewtwo looked down as he moved one of his large feet forward, gesturing at it. Burnt into the pad of his foot were the block letters that spelled out his designation. M-2 Specimen B. "You have writing, just like me...and C...and now E. Like A..."
Drak looked up at Mewtwo with such frightened vulnerability that Mewtwo could not force his next words to come forward. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, causing the only glimmer of light that seemed to exist around him.
"You're....Drak." Mewtwo closed his eyes, his face clenching as if in pain, hissing between his teeth. "Drak...I gave you that name, you know that? Drak..."
Drak shivered, looking down and closing his eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow.
"Your name..."
"It...starts..." Drak finally gasped out, forcing the exhalations of air. "With a D..."
Mewtwo forced Drak to look at him, staring into the sad, shining dark blue eyes. "That's right."
"I'm..."
Mewtwo closed his eyes in response. Drak felt something break within him and he began to cry.
His entire life was just erased.
