This fanfiction is a work in progress; There are many more chapters to come.
This edition update: 2 December 2003
Finally after years, I am able to begin publishing the entire story. I hope that you will enjoy it. Thank you for visiting and reading.


POKEMON: DARK KALEIDOSCOPE©

RATING
 This is NOT your typical Pokemon story. It is serious; It has angst; It has pathos; And yet there is romance. On the other hand, there are no curse words, no sexual narratives, no sarcasm, and what little violence there is, is not graphic. However, it is NOT a kid's story; it's NOT funny; it's NOT cute. Recommended reading level: PG-13

FOREWORD
 It was only after I had read "Iris" (a very well-written serious and dark fan-fiction about Ranma½ by Nick Leifker) that my creative writing urges were fueled anew and with more effort than I had ever put into a work before, began to write this story. Thank you again, Nick, for your inspiration.
Thanks also to the following people:
Richard Salsbury (http://www.rsalsbury.co.uk/roughdraft) for “Rough Draft - The free word processing program for writers” that made conversion to HTML so very easy.
Thelma Kling, my high school creative writing teacher, for pursuing a career of the impossible: inspiring high school students to do their best.
Hal Belch, my high school psychology teacher, for stirring my interest of the human psyche: another impossible task.
Mark Bell, Blake Ostler, and Doug Clark who I met in Italy, for teaching me how to think outside of the box.
To the many who said to me, “I’d like to read a book that you would write.”
To Cartoon Network for bringing so much Anime to American Television.
To Tripod & Lycos for so faithfully hosting my web-sites, making it possible to publish to the world for no money my written creations.
To AddMe.com for teaching me how to get my sites listed successfully on search engines.
To my daughter, Koni, for getting me started in programming HTML.
To my son, Chad, for making sure that I keep up on the latest cartoons.
The reason for all these thanks is that each person or entity contributed to the creation and world-wide publishing of my most ambitious writing project in all my forty-seven years.
As I wrote I kept in mind that my best work is created to please myself, not to "target an audience". Even so, I request that each one of you who reads this story (once it is finished) to write me at least a little something. I want to know of the effect that this writing has had upon you.
However, if you have any negative comments on my style of writing, my use of grammar, punctuation, morals, inconsistency with the real world, possible legal ramifications of the characters' actions, and so on, feel free to keep them to yourself. Regardless of the strength of your convictions that you are right and that I am wrong, I will not change my story to satisfy you. Better yet, you should purge yourself of such negativity, lighten up, and enjoy your existence which (after all) is eternal.

DISCLAIMER
 This work is NOT authorized by the original creator of Pokemon or Nintendo or anybody. And believe you me, I’m not making a penny from my efforts, so it would be pointless to sue me.

CLARIFICATION ON SETTING
 The story begins ten years after Ash, Brock, and Misty have their adventures together.
Because there is so much confusion (I feel) in regards to the ages of the characters in the original series, I have taken some artistic license in my story.
Ash and Misty are twenty years old.
Brock is twenty-five years old.
James and Jesse are twenty-seven years old.
I have changed the past history of Jesse from what I know it should be and Ash’s family situation may not be quite right either. Again, you’ll have to grant me artistic license.

AND NOW
 after much adieu, I present (in the proper order, but lacking several chapters between each chapters that are not numbered):


POKEMON: DARK KALEIDOSCOPE©

Chapter One


     Ash pulled his cap off and kneaded it fitfully as he arrived at the door. About him was the quiet rustle of doctors and nurses, sounds reflecting in discordant fragments from the blank, white walls. Ash said to himself, "I can't stand out here all day. I've got to go in." With his now- crumpled cap in one hand and his heart pounding against his throat, Ash involuntarily trembled as he pushed the door open.
     It was darker in the room than he expected. Was it the shadow of rest, the sleep of recuperation? Or was it the final hours of a young life drawing too rapidly to a close? And there, sunken in among blankets and pillows, lay Misty, her skin a sad pallor, her eyes closed but not in repose. A monitor by the bed beeped as the only sentry.
     Ash's approach slowed. He did not want to believe that the scene was real. He had never seen anyone so sick, so close to death. Misty's arms were on top of the covers, fingers gently interlaced. Ash was struck by the grace of her form even in the throughs of death. Finally Ash arrived at her bedside. He felt a bit more assured when he could hear Misty breathing softly and evenly.
     Ash remained silent. While he now saw a macabre copy of Misty, he easily remembered the spunky girl of a decade ago. Their parting had been so sudden. Everything had been an explosive jumble.
     Ash had awoken to a clamor of activity late at night. Misty was hastily packing her things, tears running unheeded down her face. She alternately sobbed openly and then clamped her mouth tightly, holding in squealing animal sounds. Ash had tried to talk to her, but she couldn't be understood for the few words that she managed to squeeze out. Before Ash could think, Misty was running raggedly down the path they had climbed earlier that evening.
     "Misty! Don't go! What's wrong?" Ash had called after her. He was about to chase after her when a hand fell heavily on his shoulder. Ash was struck by a smell like a doctor's office, only rancid. Then Brock's voice came groggily, adding to the stench.
     "Don't, don't go after her. I'm such a...," Brock mumbled. "She's gone. She's gone and she's not coming back. It's my fault." Ash yanked Brock's hand off his shoulder to turn and face him. Instead, Brock toppled onto Ash as he had been using Ash to steady himself.
     "I'm sorry," Brock moaned, "I'm really sorry. I'm such a jerk. I'm ..." And that's when he went limp in Ash's arms. Ash was barely able to keep Brock from falling straight to the ground. As it was, Brock ended up in a heap in the dirt with Ash falling to his knees, only catching Brock by the shoulder.
     Ash couldn't bring himself to move. He wanted this to just be a nightmare. If only he could wake up. But nothing changed. Pikachu had appeared without a sound at Ash's side, keeping Ash between himself and Brock. Pikachu's nose wrinkled and his face turned down. "Pika," he whispered. Ash gathered Pikachu into his arms while Brock's head laid almost lifeless on his lap. Ash's arms tightened around his Pokemon until Pikachu began to squeal.
     "Pikachu," he gasped, "What's going on?! I don't understand any of this." And he spoke no more but cried until morning. All he knew was that his two best friends in all the world had undergone some terrible transformation and there was nothing that he could do about it.      
     Misty sighed. Ash snapped out of his trance but only into another nightmare. Again, he was powerless to help a friend and this transformation he was forced to witness was the worst he could imagine. Ash took comfort in looking at Misty's hands. He thought back to the many times that these hands had struck him and only now did he realize that it had only been frustration that drove her to attack him; It was never hatred or even anger.
     But that night in the past, then there had been anger, hurt, and even hatred seething from Misty. That had pierced his heart with more pain than any punch that she had ever thrown. And then, Ash never saw or heard from Misty again. That is, until he found out that she was in the hospital.
     "Misty?" repeated the Pokemon Gym Leader of Carttemtown. "Oh, I remember her now. She specialized in Water Pokemon. She was here about a month ago." Ash tried to remain calm. This was the closest he had gotten to finding Misty in a long time.
     "Did she say where she was going?" Ash asked hopefully.
     The leader shook his head, "No. She kept to herself pretty much. She sure did talk to her Psyduck a lot though. I think she liked him best of all her Pokemon. Well, he was the only one I saw."
     Ash once again came to his senses in Misty's room. He suddenly thought of something else troubling: While Misty was so sick, who was caring for all her Pokemon? They couldn't just be left untended in their Pokeballs indefinitely.
     Ash choked and coughed when he spotted Psyduck sitting quietly in a chair on the other side of Misty's bed. Ash didn't expect Psyduck to be there, waiting quietly and patiently. As if on cue, Psyduck confidently slipped down off the chair, waddled over to the sink, and climbed onto a short stool. Easily he picked up a glass, filled it, and brought it to Ash.
     "Psy," the duck-like Pokemon said with a slight smile as he returned to his chair. Ash's jaw hung wide open. He never imagined that Psyduck would ever be anything but clumsy and stupid. Obviously, Ash had something to learn.
     Misty sighed again and her eyes opened slowly. When she saw Ash, she showed no surprise. It was as if she expected him to be there.
     "Hi, Ash," she voiced with a trace of a smile. "I probably won't be awake for very long; I'm so tired." As Misty spoke, she seemed to age visibly far beyond her years. "Ash, you probably won't understand what I'm about to tell you. And frankly, I don't care if anyone understands or accepts this. All I know is that I have been blessed beyond all my dreams. No one could be happier or more at peace than..." She turned her whole attention to Psyduck, "we are."
     Dreamily, she quietly announced, "Psyduck and I are married." Ash collapsed to a nearby chair, swallowing his astonishment as his world turned upside-down. He had earlier noticed the ring on Misty's finger but had had no idea who her betrothed could be. Ash looked more closely at Psyduck and saw a thin gold chain around his neck. On the chain hung a small medallion that was a letter M, a plus sign, and a letter D, all within a heart. Ash turned to stare at Misty.
     "The D is for Psyduck's new name that I gave him when we got married. Only he and I will ever know it because no one can ever know him as I do," she explained. Ash was still speechless. "I know you've got a lot of questions. The answers are in my journal. It's okay for you to read it. Psyduck will get it for you," Misty was tiring quickly. "You're a good man, Ash. Remember that." Her eyes closed without warning. "I've got to rest some more now."
     In a moment, she was sleeping. Her face softened as Ash watched. Somehow, she looked a little happier. Psyduck pulled a thick white book from a back pack on the dresser and carried it over to Ash. Ash carefully took it, sat back in his chair, and began to skim through the pages. Misty was right; Ash had a lot of questions.

Click for an intermediate chapter.