A Pokepasta that Sucks

Embarking on an odyssey that began with newfound friendship, I set my sights on an adventure, conscious of the fact that I lacked a team of Pokémon by my side. My journey commenced on Route 101, a world of possibility stretched out before me. Yet, within the canvas of this vibrant world, an unexpected cry for help pierced the air, a cry that would shatter the illusion of innocence.

Drawing me towards the source, I discovered Professor Birch in the throes of peril, hemmed in by an aggressive Poochyena. His plea for assistance spurred me into action, my hands fumbling in the grass for a Pokeball. Desperation gave way to urgency as I threw one of the Pokeballs I had gathered. From within, a Mudkip materialized, a creature unfamiliar to me, yet ready to defend.

With determination burning in my heart, I commanded Mudkip to unleash its Water Gun. Yet, the bizarre took root—the very command I issued was distorted, replaced by the incongruous move, Tackle. Nonetheless, the Poochyena succumbed to Mudkip's newfound prowess, although the victory rang hollow. A mere single point of experience awarded to Mudkip's name, a paltry sum that defied logic and expectation.

Birch's gratitude knew no bounds, and he escorted me to his laboratory, a sanctuary of research and knowledge. Within its hallowed walls, he presented me with a rare gift—an opportunity to keep Mudkip, to nurture it as my own. The chance to bestow a name upon my newfound companion arose, and I christened her Mudsport, a name that resonated with the untamed spirit of the creature before me.

As conversation with the professor ebbed and flowed, a chill slithered through the recesses of my consciousness. I hesitated, hovering my finger over the save button as a disquietude formed in my gut. The menu unfolded, and in its depths, I discerned a sinister shift—a dark crimson hue began to engulf the screen. With each pulse of the ominous hue, Mudsport's name morphed from "Mudsport" to the jarring declaration of "RUN." Panic coursing through my veins, I snapped my 3DS shut, desperate to escape the fevered descent into darkness.

Taking refuge in a respite, I sought sanctuary beneath my bed, a futile attempt to quell the tremors within my soul. Time passed in a haze, and when the courage to reopen the 3DS finally stirred within me, a surreal tableau unfolded—an aberration that had infiltrated Mudsport's profile, one that defied explanation. A sudden crash seized control of my device, and once more, the veil of silence descended.

Resolute yet fearful, I waded into the virtual realm once again, tracing my steps towards Oldale Town. A man, an enigmatic figure cloaked in inky darkness, crossed my path, a harbinger of dread who seemed an impossible fit within this world of color and light. As his presence faded, he whispered to me in crimson text, a message both ominous and perplexing, "I kNoW WhO yOU ArE aUsTin." The words clung to my mind like a sinister specter, an intrusion into my very identity.

Terror gripped me, leaving me ensnared beneath my bed, grappling with the inexplicable, the realization that my trainer name, my essence within the game, had been unveiled. In the aftermath of this chilling encounter, my game remained untouched for days, weeks even, as I grappled with the haunting implications of my actions.

Upon resuming my quest, the world beckoned with the familiarity of the Alpha Sapphire intro. Yet, this semblance of normalcy was fleeting. A crescendo of blinding white light enveloped the screen, birthing an aberration—a figure clad entirely in black, his form a void against the stark contrast. His words resounded within me, a prelude to an impending darkness, "DoNt ThInK YoU cAN EsCaPE, BeCAuSe I WiLl aLwAyS bE WaTChiNg."

The cascade of horror unfolded before my eyes, the game succumbing once more to a maddening crash. A month has passed since that fateful encounter, yet the specter of that inky figure lingers, casting a shadow over the virtual realm that once beckoned with joy. A realization has settled, one born from the chilling depths of my own ignorance—my foray into the unknown had exacted a toll beyond measure, weaving threads of dread that continue to suffocate my resolve.