[A/N: So, this isn't touchy-feely like my other entries, but it is educational in a way. ...In a way. I recommend listening to the song Revenge Syndrome in the media (English cover by SirHamnet on YouTube), although it contains a swear word in the beginning. The lyrics are from Revenge Syndrome as well. Enjoy~!]

• • •

Suffocating to the point of living in a dream

"It's somehow like a miracle is happening to me"

On the other side of this screwed up reality

is the mirrored garden of Adam and Eve

•

Mother is running, running towards the hideously dangerous forest that she's told me never to go near, but she's ignoring her own advice, breaking into a desperate sprint and dragging me along with her. I don't want to go into the terrifying, ominous darkness that lies ahead, but Mother insists.

In my hands, the small Roselia trembles--- Lily--- in fear, and I can hear the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer and closer and closer and closer each minute.

Reluctantly, I allow myself to be pulled along into the overwhelming world of black, and together, the three of us crash and stumble through the thick, crawling undergrowth. Twigs crunch and snap under our hurried feet, and fallen leaves rustle angrily at our very prescence.

Suddenly, I lurch forward, landing on the ground with a strangled gasp. Through the inkiness that seems to drain all existing light in sight, I can make out Mother, tripped and sprawled helplessly on the packed, dense earth.

I shake as the man nears, knife in hand, maniacal grin stretched thinly across his face. His black eyes shine with a treacherous glint, and I want to do nothing but run--- until I discover that my legs have given up on me, and I can't go anywhere.

The strike comes so quickly, but it's not aimed at me. I'm tossed away like a rag doll, and my mother shakily climbs to her feet, standing over me protectively.

I can only look in horror as the colour starts to drain from Mother's already pale complexion, and a sickly, snowy white replaces the light peach that once dominated her skin. It's even more sickening in contrast to the thick scarlet that seeps through her clothes.

My stomach lurches and fills with painful nausea, and I stare at the silver blade that's stabbed through the woman's heart, tears cloaking my sight in a misty shroud and reducing my vision to near zero.

I barely manage to catch Mother as she crashes to the ground, and all I can cry out is Mother, Mother, Mother over and over again. Her eyes are especially bright, pupils wide and dilated, and it's only now that I notice how they're exactly like mine, dark emerald with a golden rim. I know she's been diagnosed mentally ill, but those eyes, thick with the fog of medicine, send a short, crystal-clear message.

"Avenge me."

Lily jumps out of my grasp, rose petals especially bright on her two rosebush-like arms. A stream of haggled, green leaves shoot out, edges as sharp as knives, but he simply lets out a Staraptor who easily takes the weak excuse of an attack, the projectiles harmlessly deflecting off the creature's large frame.

And then, the scene in front of me disappears in a blur of steel-hard feathers and waning rose blossoms, and only a few moments pass before the overgrown avifauna emerges victorious over a bloodied, lifeless corpse.

I simply lie, the ground cold and hard beneath my tender skin, eyes wide in shock and fear. I can feel my brain pounding, going into overdrive to process the events that'd flew past in a daze, but I still can't believe what my eyes tell me, that he killed my family.

And yet, holding that single, chilling thought like a deadly knife, the fury that follows is kept at the back of my mind, and I can feel nothing but a cold, unwavering burst of pure, raw hatred.

An emotion so foreign and hauntingly scary forces its way to the dark recesses of my heart, but as the man turns with a mocking grin on his face, and tells me that he doesn't kill children, I turn and run, running as far as I can, and my heart thunks dully as hot tears burst forth--- and I can't tell if it's from the shame I feel towards my cowardice or from the shock and anguish that courses through my mind each moment.

And I close my eyes, letting darkness spill everywhere, and I'm not sure if it's me or the eerie consciousness called hatred that speaks these words.

I'm not sure of this concept of sanity. After all, my mother has been a little insane for years, and we're the same.

"I will avenge you."

• • •

Insanity steals into my mind like a deranged thief, taking what was important to me, adding new dangerous ideas, seeding a new personality and muddling up the rest.

New sparks of ideas that I would have once dismissed as bizarre start to grow roots, deep roots, they start to make sense in one revolutionary eureka moment after another, cascading out of control, luring me further and further from the self I once knew, until I was so deep that I no longer recognise the forest around me.

Paths twist and turned out of sight, so dense atr the trunks, I follow one path wildly after another, making new connections in my new distorted reality, and after a while I have trod the new paths so much that they form an inescapable maze, a prison without walls.

• • •

Seven years.

That's how long I've waited; crouched, coiled and wanting nothing more than to just pounce and rip the brutal murderer apart, but I've waited.

My eyes have burned from the countless hours I've spent on the Internet, hands pale and aching from their position at the mouse and keyboard, relentlessly eating up any trace of information I can find about that wretched excuse for a human.

Sean Hiruishi, thirty-four years old, born in Snowpoint City, Sinnoh. He moved to Unova after completing his Pokemon journey at the age of seventeen, and his current home is in Nimbasa, but he scours places like Hoenn and (surprisingly) Sinnoh to participate in contests.

He has been suspected to be a serial murderer, but the police were unable to arrest him due to a lack of evidence.

I do not care about such flowery competitions--- I've always despised contests, after all, with all their pretence of beauty and displays as they try to show the soft, pretty side of the world.

I know better. Humanity can try to craft this world into something beautiful, but their so-called definition of this world is coated in layers and layers of lies. Everything "beautiful" is cold, deadly, poisonous--- there's nothing good about this world.

Pure darkness, I chant to myself. Even humans are nothing but evil.

I've had seven years to myself to watch him, disappearing into the shadows as I see his Pokemon whirl around in their dazzling displays of grace and elegance--- but I fail to be impressed, my mouth curling into a scowl every time I see the monster onstage.

He killed my family--- Mother and Lily--- and this has stuck me in a black hole of eternal, never-ending torment.

When I'm not pulling myself into the obsession of finding out more and more information, I'm training or participating in these forlorn Contests.

I have to wait, because I don't want to ruin my plan, perfectly pieced together--- a flawless plan to avenge them.

To avenge myself, because he took my life and tore it to pieces, to minuscule fragments of shattered glass when I was ten.

• • •

Staring at my reflection I let out my hate

"I will show them what it's like to live with all this pain!"

•

I don't feel any sense of achievement at all when the Timer Ball clicks shut, an automated sound telling me that Virizion had been captured.

Who cares if I've caught a Legendary Pokemon? Who even cares?

The creature is now nothing more than a pawn in this twisted, ploy, all plotted out in the dark recesses of my debauched mind.

I laugh. A cold, mocking laugh at this rotten world that echoes in the stale evening air because I am all alone, all because of the murderer.

How ironic that Virizion was one of those--- what was it?--- Swords of Justice. Such an uncanny parallel to the weapon I was going to unleash on that beast.

A sword of justice.

• • •

Glaring at my reflection I let out a scream:

"I will hereby start my Retribution Strategy!"

•

Five ribbons. Five contests.

I ruthlessly crush each of these useless competitions; win them as fast as possible, but the Grand Festival in Slateport has seemed so impossibly far away.

Now, today, I can begin.

First up is the appeal round--- not that I care, but I have to know what this goddamn contest is about. My Virizion wins the attention of the Hoenn natives, standing tall and proud, lime armour of stiff fur every bit as regal as the royal look in her rose optics.

Though, I can tell that behind the picture-perfect image of the Legendary is well-contained doubt and suspicion about my motives.

I don't care what my Pokemon thinks.

The Roselia is tiny, almost insignificant next to the Virizion, and her roselike arms pales in comparison to Lily's vibrant blooms, but I have long decided that I will use a Roselia for this.

This is for Lily too, after all.

My name is called--- Damien Espén--- but it's muffled and faraway, and my head is so full of fog that I wonder for a split-second if I've gone crazy, just like Mother.

I keep down a hollow chuckle. I probably am insane, I think. We're the same, after all. We're the same.

I circle around to face the audience slowly, dragging my feet so each step is deliberately and painfully slow, and my head is bowed so only the green edges of my eyes can be seen, the dilated pupils and bright golden rim hidden by my shaggy mop of hair.

I mouth nearly silent commands to my partners, watching the two creatures twirl and move around in perfect synchronisation--- Roselia quick, small and nimble, twisting and turning with expert speed, Virizion graceful and looking every bit as elegant as a Legendary should be.

I allow myself a split-second to be impressed with my Pokemon's movements--- how much our months of training have paid off--- before refocusing.

As soon as the order leaves my mouth, Roselia catapults herself off Virizion's back, basking in the bright artificial light of the hall's spotlights, small frame glittering with the transfixing sheen.

Seven Energy Balls are released, the forest-green spheres crackling with deadly, raw energy. They're launched outwards so quickly, the sparking globes almost seem to materialise outwards, forming a large ring that almost freezes around the stage, captured in a timeless, achingly beautiful moment.

A hushed whisper of "Sweet scent" escapes my lips, and a thick, saccharine fog coats the entire room in a blanched cerise, blocking my two Pokemon from view. I can hear the audience's confused mumbles; the judges' faces completely unreadable, but I don't care.

A single command of Flash causes my Virizion to immediately obey, lighting up the entire room of mist with blinding white, causing a stage effect of sorts--- which, I suppose, is what my Pokemon has created.

The once barely-visible globes of energy shine through the pale pink murkiness, the shadows cast on them causing them to flicker a dark ebony. My Pokemon stand tall, alert, their silhouettes exquisitely still.

"Sacred Sword," I say, pronouncing each letter with deliberate precision and clarity.

The Sword of Justice's horn elongates into a sparkling, long blade that's stained with a pale green, humming and crackling with lethal power. Sparks of green radiates of the weapon's lethal frame, and it steps into the middle of the ring, feet padding along with utmost silence.

It pauses for a split-second, and the fog almost seems to recede around the creature, rolling back ever-so-slightly to reveal the slightest touch of emerald in its sleek coat.

Then, it slices--- a battle cry ringing true--- and the fog is sheared into nothingness, simply dissipating into the cold, crisp air of the contest hall. A thin line separates the two halves of each Energy Ball, and for a moment, they stay in the air--- before bursting into a million sparks of pale green light that surrounds and twinkles off my Pokemons' frames.

As I bow, and as the crowd bursts into thunderous applause, the only thought in my mind is how slicing these globes of power in half is the closest pantomime I have to viciously hacking the damned murderer's head off, and how it is just a cheap substitute for my plan--- which I would deliver soon.

Ill, I tell myself. I've been ill for seven years--- ill with the overwhelming desire to get my revenge.

• • •

It is a syndrome of revenge; the ends will justify the means

Says the twisted heroine: "It serves you right, you weakling!"

And the way that people repay is so lost they haven't got a clue

"What is this worth?" you spat at me but does this seem "ideal" to you!?

•

I slash my way through each battle like a robot on autopilot--- barely aware of each opponent; barely even bothering to recall their names, Pokemon or faces.

Only one trainer matters--- and I have every detail of his twisted face etched and burned into my memory. We haven't faced off yet--- maybe this is Arceus' work, or maybe it's just a pure coincidence.

I destroy and destroy and destroy, until there's nothing left and I'm so blinded that I don't even notice that I've reached the finals and only the both of us is left.

Roselia and Virizion are ready for battle, assuming their regular stances at their end of the battlefield. His Staraptor and Liepard are well-trained and misleadingly docile, but I can only stare straight into their slanted eyes, knowing that behind that calm expression is one of a crazed murderer, long used to blood and tears--- just like their master.

He evidently doesn't recognise my name when it's called, but I recognise his.

I start the battle, Roselia shooting a flurry of leaves into the air, multicoloured glints shining especially bright in the stark white of the hall's spotlights.

Staraptor lets out an arrogant chirp, and with his trainer's command, spreads out his majestic raven wings, and the Magical Leaf attack is almost completely absorbed by the soft ebony feathers.

I push aside how my current situation mirrors the pitiful predicament he put me in seven years ago, when Lily had unleashed a Razor Leaf to defend me and his monstrous avifauna of a Staraptor had merely emerged harmless from the assault.

"Arrogant," I simple whisper, and when Staraptor lowers his head once again, Virizion has materialised in front of him, the wide, pearl-grey strip on her head now encased in a brilliant magenta.

The Pokemon, no matter how experienced he is, does not have any time to prepare a counterattack before a Zen Headbutt smashes into his supple underbelly. He stumbles back, dazed, and Virizion gracefully bounds back to avoid the Liepard's Slash.

I keep an eye on the meter that displays our scores--- the number of points I have is just slightly above his.

The Liepard he owns slashes downwards with a Shadow Claw, streaks of ghostly murkiness flickering in the air. His Staraptor whizzes through with an Aerial Ace, perfectly timed, and his large feathered wings stretch to their full glory, streaks of darkness circling around it as he crashes full-force into both my Pokemon.

Virizion and Roselia trip backwards, their faces trying and failing to mask the pain from such a powerful, super-effective blow. My point meter dips once again, and I grit my teeth in frustration.

I will not lose to the sorry likes of a murderer--- much less the murderer who has taken my family away from me.

I can almost hear Mother's voice next to me, whispering into my ear: "Avenge me."

Stifling a nod, I turn my focus back to the task at hand--- battle first, then decimate. "Petal Dance and Flash," I mumble, the command slipping out of my mouth.

Virizion's ruby eyes glow, causing a blinding screen of white to glare directly in its opponents' eyes. They freeze, blinded temporarily, and Roselia emerges from behind the shutter of light, circles of rose-tinted petals surrounding her small body. Basking in the light, she launches herself forward, the delicate leaflets surprisingly sharp.

The two Pokemon--- even Staraptor--- are surprised by the attack, and the mass of projectiles slice into their skin over and over again. I force the twisted smile rising inside me to stay down, imagining the very same thing happening to the man opposite me.

Just as the confusion side-effect is about to take its toll on Roselia, the small Pokemon makes a leap onto Virizion's back, seeming to radiate light from her comrade's previous Flash attack. She bounces into the sky, seeming to float on a cushion of air for just a split-second, but then a small object--- a Lum Berry--- emerges from the Pokemon's rosebush arms, falling into her mouth quickly.

His meter plummets down--- but he doesn't let that fact stop him. A few orders causes the Staraptor to cloak himself in a breathtaking veil of bright blue, the Brave Bird truly impressive--- while his Liepard stays put, unleashing a barrage of Shadow Balls that split themselves into spidery bolts of black lightning, wrapping themselves tightly around the pale sky-blue robe that surrounds the avifauna-like Pokemon.

I will not lose, I think. I will avenge Mother and Lily. I will avenge my family.

Yes, I murmur in my head. I will kill him.

I wave my hand. "Virizion, use Focus Blast," I state simply. "Roselia, use Protect and get in that Focus Blast, then use X-Scissor."

A huge sphere forms in front of the Legendary, shining with a pale, yet regal amber gleam. Roselia isn't daunted by its size--- if she is, she hides it well--- and summons a holographic-like shield that shoots up, forming a complete, sealed circle of glossy, translucent energy around her.

The minuscule creature fearlessly charges into its partner's attack, and her image can barely be seen through the walls of the Focus Blast. Energy glints a blinding lime colour in the shape of a cross, and Virizion launches the attack at the same time my opponent's Pokemon charges forward, both parties forcefully smashing into each other at full force.

Smoke billows up from the mere impact of the collision, the thick fumes quickly and expanding over the arena at an alarming rate, hiding the outcome of the fated battle.

He looks at me with an odd look. "Sacred Sword is Virizion's signature move."

"Yes," I reply without any hint of emotion, keeping my voice perfectly monotonous. "Yes, it is."

"You haven't used it in this battle."

"You killed my family." I ignore his brief comment and finally allow myself to reveal a cold smile. "You killed Mother. Then you killed my Roselia."

He fails to reciprocate the smile--- mistake number one. His fist clenches and trembles; mistake number two. He takes a step away from me---mistake number three. His voice quivered as if I were holding a gun instead of only having my empty hands, mistake number four. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The crowd has been stunned into silence, and my skin pricks with sweat as I almost visualise two dazzling spotlights shining on us, soaking in the uncomfortable warmth.

"Tell me, what do you believe in?" I ask, my voice deadly quiet.

He arches an eyebrow, momentarily confused by my odd question. He takes a few seconds to register the importance of my enquiry. His answer is vague; wandering, but it almost causes my collected guise to drop and reveal the predatory smirk. "I believe in justice."

I snap my fingers, and the grey patch on Virizion's head lengthens into a shimmering, extensive blade, a slim weapon that hums and crackles with nothing but solid, compressed energy waiting anxiously to be released on a sinner.

In reality, a Virizion will never do this--- a Sword of Justice is far too noble to carry out a killing, after all--- but it is now nothing more than one of my Pokemon, a Pokemon that obeys my command.

The smoke clears, and Roselia is left, barely standing, over a fainted Staraptor, and his meter hits zero.

But none of that matters now, as Virizion takes slow, graceful steps to arrive in front of the man who has ruined my life.

My vision goes hazy with delirium, and I ignore the audience's startled gasps, ignore the Officer Jenny on duty rushing towards me. I can feel my mouth twitching upwards into a psychotic smile, one that screams kill, and I wonder if this is the exact same smile I've faced seven years ago.

The last bit of my sanity starts to dissolve before my very eyes, and the last I hear from it is a sad, dying thought--- What has revenge done to me?

Tears run down my cheeks at a startling pace, but I am still smiling, and I'm wondering why exactly am I crying because I'm just about to achieve my goal.

As the strike comes, as dark crimson spills and stains the pristine marble of the hall's smooth floors, I thrust my hands outwards. I don't care if I die for this--- I don't care what happens for me.

Because I live for revenge--- no, it hasn't been me who's lived, because my delirium has lived for revenge.

I wonder what type of wretched syndrome I'm suffering from--- a revenge syndrome, I think, the most dangerous illness of all.

Have I avenged you yet? Is this enough?

"Well then," I say as Virizion withdraws, giving me a glimpse of his terrified, crazed expression--- the same expression I had seen on Mother an eternity ago--- 

"This is justice."

• • •

[Word count: 3658]

Eh... honestly, I would have preferred more feels. Either that, or I'm a sadist. Moral of the story? Revenge can do strange things to your mind c: Don't hold grudges, kids~

I'm sure you'll write much better one-shots. cx

~Nyx