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Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.


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Old 06-28-2012, 01:33 PM
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Default [WAR XI] The Voice {PG 13+} [Judged]

Rating is PG 13+, as stated in the title, therefore you have been warned. My first time writing for WAR - let's see how this goes.



Jennifer strolled into the room, closing the door behind her. Seating herself down, she pulled on the black headphones before flipping a few switches on the console; soon afterwards, a light appeared to flash red outside, above the door, spelling the words 'On Air'. After a few more switches being flipped over, a 'jingle' began to play – Jennifer took a deep breath and adjusted herself over the microphone.

“Hello everybody! PokéTalker Jennifer here, coming at you through the air waves!” she announced, playing another jingle in the background for emphasis. “Today, I want one of you viewers to call in with your advice on being a good Trainer – does it involve food, training regimes or music of some sort? Tell us your quick-fire way to becoming the best, and gaining the best from your Pokémon! Get your calls in while I play a little song,” she informed her audience, pressing another button on the console before her, then removing the headset and picking up a magazine.

She didn't care much for the song that was currently playing – it was some new music that her boss had told her to play, mainly in an attempt to advertise other musicians and companies in order for their own to gain some profit. Jennifer flicked through the pages of the gossip magazine she held, looking for the page she had read to the day before.

A cold breeze reached out to her, brushing itself along her neck and back. Shivering uncomfortably, she turned to the source of the disturbance – nothing. She frowned, facing back to her magazine, continuing on with her hunt for that page. Just as she had found it and had begun to read the very first sentence on Elesa's supposedly new and secret relationship, the breeze brushed itself against her again. Cursing, she sat up from her seat and scanned the windows with her eyes – none of the windows were open. She stood there, dumbstruck for but a moment; she wasn't too sure on what was going on. She shook her head, coming to the conclusion that it would be best to open the windows – there was no way for her to get air within the room, therefore she would begin to sweat and heat up, a very unappealing look for any woman. Still confused about the source of the draft, but willing to put up with it, she opened the window – maybe this was her way of making an excuse for the eerie breeze if she felt it again later.

She was about to sit back down and continue to read about Elesa when she noticed something about the song playing on the radio. It didn't sound as upbeat and 'techno' as it had before, instead it sounded as if somebody were scraping their nails down a blackboard – the piercing sound feeling as if it was stabbing into any listener's brain. Throwing the magazine to the floor, Jennifer pressed a button to stop the music and placed the headphones back on. She was shaking, but she was unsure of why.

“I apologise for that, my viewers,” she explained, her voice cracked and filled slightly with unease. Pulling herself away from the microphone, she coughed into her hand in order to clear her throat. Composing herself, she edged closer to the audio input device, “I believe we are experiencing some technical difficulties with our music; I assure you that we will fix this shortly.” Typing a few characters on the keyboard in front of her, a PC screen flickered to life and indicated that some people who had called were on hold, waiting to play their role within the show. Jennifer smiled,

“Hello there, caller on line one! Got any tips for our young Trainers out there?” A dry, rasping breath replied to her question – no indication whether or not they were actually going to answer her with words. Jennifer waited, hoping that maybe the stranger was thinking, forgetting their words and only trying to piece them together – it could be nervous calling, and talking on, a radio show.

“Pain...” the cold, sharp voice replied. Jennifer sat there, confused on how to reply. Staring at the microphone before her, she fumbled her words,

“I-I'm sorry-?”

“Pain is the best form of training one can give their Pokémon,” they interrupted, their voice piercing itself inside Jennifer's head. She was about to reply, wanting to remove the caller from the airwaves, but he beat her to it by continuing on. “Pain encourages them to perform better... Fear acts as an amazing motivator. Beat your Pokémon, abuse them, strike fear into their hearts and they will perform well. Break their bones so that they grow back stronger, beat them until they bleed and cry, hit them-”

“Enough!” Jennifer cried, too unsettled to hear any more of this stranger's words. She had been too surprised and shocked to interrupt them at first, but now she had heard enough. Children listened to this show daily – who knew what nightmares, or what thoughts, were currently going through their mind. She didn't care so much that her boss would potentially fire her for allowing this sick individual to taint the show, or that the number of listeners on the show would drop, losing money for the company – she feared for the youth and how they would be influenced, as did she fear for what else this stranger would have come out with. She pushed the button which would cut off her caller from the show, and she sighed with relief as she heard the familiar 'crackle' that indicated the stranger had been removed. She collected herself momentarily, then she took an intake of breath to continue the show.

“You thought you got rid of me, didn't you?” the same voice echoed through the headset. Jennifer froze, then she began to repeatedly attack the button she had used earlier with her finger – it proved to no avail. “Continue to try as much as you like,” the voice taunted, “I cannot, and will not, leave.”

Jennifer was now in a state of panic – this malevolent person struck fear into her heart with only their voice, their words as evil as their presence. Pressing every single button, and flicking every single switch, she tried her best to rid herself, and the station, of this individual that haunted the show. No jingles echoed out, and neither did the show itself stop broadcasting, with whatever button she pushed or switch she toggled – it was as if the console itself had no life.

“Can you feel that cool breeze on your shoulder?” the voice asked. Frozen, Jennifer acknowledged to herself that she had felt it there throughout most of her conversation with this person. Turning her head, she looked at the windows she had opened earlier – they were closed. She slowly turned back to the microphone, gulping hard and shivering profoundly. The cold feeling shifted to the back of her neck. “Look at that pretty little neck of yours... it would be a shame if I were to...” the voice trailed off, but a dark hand shot out from the PC screen and lunged at her throat. She pulled herself back and pressed herself against the closest wall. The hand slowly pulled itself back into the screen, and then the other side of the room began to fade into darkness – reaching itself out to her. It was impossible to see through the coal-coloured shadow, and there was nowhere for Jennifer to run to, for the door had been barricaded by the approaching mass. She didn't want to be in it, even being near it gave her a sense of foreboding and she pressed herself closer to the wall.

A figure appeared in the darkness, although how she could make it out without the use of light, she was unsure. It approached her, a black arm reaching out. It was shrouded in a cloak, and it had something that appeared to look like grey smoke protruding from the head – like hair. The face was covered by a jagged red collar – was it a Pokémon?

“I am the being that makes nightmares and reality combine; I am the one who brings solely terror to those who feel my wrath,” it declared, edging closer and closer to the now petrified Jennifer. “I make my victims suffer profusely, for I am Darkrai – your eternal nightmare.” Its hand lunged at her, grabbing Jennifer's face and ending everything with darkness.

*

Jennifer shot up as her alarm clock blared throughout the room, breathing heavily. She was terrified, hurriedly looking around her room for anything unusual. The nightmare she had just experienced had seemed too real for her liking, and she still felt as if she was engulfed within that darkness – it made her feel cornered, as if she was claustrophobic. Not wanting to move from the safety of her bed, she brought her knees to her arms and sat there, rocking ever so slightly. She then noticed her Teddiursa beside her, twitching in fear – it seemed as if he had suffered from a nightmare too. Lying back down and wrapping her arms around it, she gently comforted it to sleep, whispering calm words to indicate that the small Pokémon was safe. She felt as if her words were contradicting her current feelings but, because of her duty as a Trainer, she had to care for her Pokémon – no matter what.

As she came to the conclusion that she wasn't going into work that day, a shadow slipped out from the corridor – its mischief completed for the day.
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Last edited by Sealboy; 06-29-2012 at 09:16 AM.
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