MATURE: Dead Winter (grimdark PMD AU)

[AbraPunk]

Spoiler: author’s notes + content warnings

This is an AU of my main story universe, Tail of Time (plus everything else that’s connected to it). If you plan to read that and want to be surprised by certain plot twists and reveals, then… well, don’t read this. This pretty freely spoils just about everything that happens in the entire canon universe.

Other than that, since this is a zombie AU (posted in time for halloween… genuinely unintentional), it should be noted that this story is grimdark. There is no hope, no reprieve, nothing of that sort. Everyone dies, the end. I am telling you this now so that nobody complains about it later if they somehow expected an apocalypse to have a happy ending. No shade, just… telling it as it is.

Anyways, content warnings are in order: Gore, blood, death

Enjoy. >:]

Spoiler: chapter content warnings

Vomit, blood, gore, death

Far beyond the mortal world, beyond the realms of lesser gods, something watched over the world, biding its time…

Waiting until it found the one.

One who had the potential to unmake the very world, and all those who inhabited it.

It could not— no, would not— take this duty upon itself, for there would be no satisfaction gleaned from simply ending all of existence with a mere thought.

No, no, no… it had a plan, one that needed to be tested first. And there was no better way to test it than with a willing mortal.

Those who were too well-meaning were immediately excluded from the pool of candidates, of course… those types would never do such a thing. How boring.

There.

One mortal, completely consumed by malevolent hubris, one whom was willing to do anything to achieve their ambitions…

Easy prey.

Arceus had found his perfect subject, through which the vessel for the world’s rot would be born.

◇ ◇ ◇

A Sawsbuck paced through the quiet halls of a massive castle, avoiding the occasional stray bit of foliage that poked out from cracks and holes in the stone floor and walls.

Harrison knew he needed to act quickly; the king was rarely left unattended by one of his guards.

Just as he approached the closed doors leading to the throne room, he sensed someone standing behind him.

He whirled around to glare at the intruder: a Zoroark.

There could be no intruders here; where were the guards?! This would soon be his kingdom, this continent his to rule; he could not show weakness—

“Consider yourself fortunate, mortal. Vermin though you are, you have been granted the privilege of becoming a vessel for something much greater than yourself.”

Several waves of cold shivers made their way through Harrison as the intruder spoke. Neither their voice nor eyes betrayed no emotion, and they stood as stiff as if they had been frozen on the spot.

Harrison shook himself, bits of his excess winter fur falling to the floor. “I don’t know how you got here, but as you are an intruder within this castle— within my castle, my kingdom— you should consider your execution a mercy!”

He stamped a hoof on the floor and raised his head, looking down upon the Zoroark, as he should be.

The intruder did not blink, did not move even an inch.

Harrison blinked, and the Zoroark was much closer than they had been only a moment ago. They now stood slightly off to the side of him, and they did not turn their head, but their eyes swiveled unnaturally smoothly to maintain eye contact.

“I am no intruder. You will obey my command, mortal. Do not attempt to resist, for it will make your imminent end only more agonizing.”

Harrison snarled, baring his fangs at the Zoroark. “Just who do you think you are, acting like you can order me around? I—”

“Tell me, mortal. Your wish is to usurp the monarch’s throne and gain control of the land, correct?”

He had to blink several times. “How do you—”

“I see all, mortal. I know all. I am all.” The Zoroark properly moved for once, and conjured a sickly green, pulsating mass. “And I am very well aware that if I am to offer you the means to achieve your ambitions, you will not refuse.”

Harrison’s fur stood on end as he took in the sight of the green… blob. It reeked of rot and death, and seemed to be perpetually melting, as it slowly amassed a puddle on the floor, whilst maintaining its exact shape— or lack thereof— within the Zoroark’s claws.

He… could not deny the temptation to hear the intruder out. Of course, the two of them were mere steps away from the throne room… it would be so easy to go and just kill the king, right now…

And yet something pulled at Harrison’s mind, urging him to accept the Zoroark’s proposition, no questions asked.

Before he could stop himself, the words spilled from his mouth.

“I am interested. Go on.”

The Zoroark, once again, made absolutely no attempt to move. “All you must do is ingest this. It shall grant you the capacity to overthrow the monarch, and claim your rightful place upon the royal throne.”

The green blob found its way closer to Harrison, by proxy of the Zoroark’s outstretched arm.

Its gods-awful, cloying stench made Harrison’s stomach make noises he hadn’t even known it could make.

Why… Why was he suddenly hungry?

His stomach yearned to empty itself onto the palace floor, and yet… it also erupted into a voracious demand to feed when he locked eyes on the blob.

Harrison tore his gaze away and tried his best to ignore his stomach’s impossibly loud rumbles of protest. “What ill effects will befall me if I eat this… this thing?”

“There are no adverse effects to be found here. You shall only gain strength beyond what you have ever known.”

Harrison’s ear flicked uneasily. “You mean to tell me that this will only bestow good fortune upon me?” He couldn’t ignore the way saliva was rapidly pooling within his mouth, forcing him to swallow harshly, lest he spill it all onto the floor when he next spoke.

“Only the best.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he even realized what he was doing— before he realized he no longer had control over his actions— he snapped his jaws shut around the Zoroark’s claws, easily ingesting the blob, as well as drawing more than a fair bit of blood from the mysterious Pokémon.

Harrison released the Zoroark’s forearm, and the Sawsbuck savored the feeling of the blob sliding its way down his throat, the way it burned as it traveled through his organs…

Wait. This wasn’t right, none of it was.

His legs trembled but did not give out, his vision blurred, and he could only draw rasping breaths—

Bile raced up his throat, and he had no time to react before it spewed from him like a fountain. He could only shudder and keep retching as the bile just kept coming, more than he even knew he’d had within—

No, wait, even through his barely-there vision, he couldn’t miss the way that his bile was turning red, nor could he have missed the way its consistency turned from sludge to pure viscous liquid, how the burning taste of his regurgitation morphed into the metallic tang of his own blood.

A momentary lull in his torment allowed him to attempt to catch his breath. Harrison raised his head to see the Zoroark standing only centimeters away from the slowly spreading puddle of bile and blood.

The Zoroark was still completely unphased by anything happening. “I had not anticipated such an effect… it is of no consequence. You, mortal, shall soon have your renewed strength.”

The only response Harrison could offer was a pathetic, labored rasp of a breath before another bout of retching overtook him.

His front hooves were now drenched in his own bile and blood, and the puddle was quickly spreading… farther than it should have been able to. He attempted to step out of the repulsive mess, but found himself rooted to the spot.

A wave of ice-cold fear passed over Harrison as he attempted to move any part of him, but to no avail. He was left to stand amidst his own regurgitation and blood; unable to move, unable to speak…

His vision was slowly going dark, and what few noises pierced the air scarcely reached him, much less were properly registered.

Perhaps most worrying to him was that…

He was still so hungry.

It was as if his very mind— no, his instincts— demanded him to feed, to devour, to consume.

…What the hell had this Zoroark done to him?

Harrison frantically searched for the intruder in question, but found nothing. It was as if they had completely vanished, or as if they had never been there at all.

Just as the encroaching darkness claimed Harrison’s sight completely, the stream of putrid bile and blood finally began to taper off, reduced to thin rivulets of red-brown filth dripping from his open maw.

He wanted to— no, needed to— feel relieved, or petrified, or both at once. Something, any emotion at all would have sufficed. Instead…

All he felt was hunger.

And it was this hunger that he felt as every single one of his senses ceased— blind, deaf, mute, no longer feeling the cold stone and warm bile beneath his hooves— and as his life slipped away from him like water in a river.

The palace fell silent, and no sign of life was present within or without.

…That was, of course, until the still-standing Sawsbuck twitched with renewed life.

His eyes snapped open, and where there were once pupils and irises, was now a gray, murky mass.

The legs that once moved in deliberate, graceful strides now unnaturally shuddered and spasmed, as if constantly on the verge of collapsing.

The undead Harrison made no attempts to breath, but he did smell. The air was thick with the scent of flesh, both dead and alive.

Naturally, it was only the living scent that compelled him to move forward, out of the rancid bile, and towards the throne room.

The stench only grew stronger as he approached the closed doors, and as he pushed them open— having to use his antlers, of course.

Within the throne room— the room that was suffocated by foliage and vines, that had so deeply infuriated Harrison when he had lived— there was only one living Pokémon. That would suffice… for now.

Upon the dirt-brown throne, sprawled out across it as if it were nothing more than a casual recliner— with his legs kicked over one armrest, and one elbow holding his head up on the other— was the king of Acopolis: Jordan the Simisage.

Jordan’s eyes were obscured by the pair of sunglasses he wore— he was rarely, if ever, seen without them— but his perpetual lazy half-smile was certainly not hidden. His tail swung slowly off of the side of the throne, and his crown rested on one of his ears.

All in all, he was the epitome of a lax ruler.

And it was something that Harrison did not stand— well, when he’d actually had the capacity to care about that.

The undead Sawsbuck shambled slowly towards the throne, towards his first meal.

Jordan’s head tilted slightly, and his contented smile faltered a bit. “Yo, uh, big H, bud, you’re not lookin’ so hot. Y’need a chill pill or somethin’? …Uh, that’s metaphorical, I don’t got anything on me right now.”

Harrison continued on his path, completely unphased by the king’s futile attempts at placating him.

Jordan’s smile disappeared completely, replaced by a worried frown, and he shifted himself so that he sat properly on his throne. “Seriously, buddy, you’re freakin’ me out a little bit here. I mean, I know you ain’t the most chill dude in the kingdom— that would be me, of course— but… still, you don’t usually, uh, do… all of this… whatever you’re doing right now.”

Still, the undead Sawsbuck marched on, his steps uneven and staggered, his eyes unblinking.

Jordan slid off the throne, holding his hands out in defense. “Woah, woah, hold up, you’re gettin’ a little too close for comfort, man. I mean, if you were all normal an’ stuff, you’d be cool up here like usual, but—”

When he was close enough, Harrison lunged at Jordan, catching the Simisage off guard, and managing to knock the king to the floor.

The Simisage’s sunglasses had slipped away from his eyes during the tumble, revealing his wide, terrified gaze.

“Oh, shit…” Was all Jordan said before Harrison’s jaws snapped shut around his throat, and yanked the flesh off.

The Sawsbuck ate all he could… at least before the rot would inevitably take over the fresh corpse.

As Harrison ripped a hole into the king’s stomach, the flesh went rancid in his mouth, tasting like pure death. Mere seconds after this, the former king’s corpse convulsed with new life.

Harrison stepped away and allowed the undead Simisage to rise.

Jordan’s legs and arms rested in unnatural ways, and there was a gaping hole in his midsection, through which most of his intestines spilled freely.

The two undead Pokémon detected no more flesh within the castle…

So it was time to venture outside.

Two living corpses shambled and shuffled their way through the empty, dead halls of the once-thriving castle, which would never again see true life in it.

The city of Acopolis was quiet, as was usual for the late nighttime hours; hardly any Pokémon would be out and about at this time…

Not that that mattered for the undead.

They were bound to find flesh out in the open soon enough, and indeed they did: a Charizard courier, busily sorting various envelopes and official documents.

The unsuspecting Pokémon remained oblivious, too engrossed in their work… until the stench of death hit their senses.

Alarmed, they whirled around, and found themself staring down two walking corpses.

They dropped their documents and attempted to call for help— but it was too late.

Harrison lunged forward, sinking his fangs into the Charizard’s leg, and ripping a sizable chunk out of the flesh. The living Pokémon toppled over, which opened an opportunity for Jordan to pounce, and tear open the Charizard’s chest cavity— easily shattering the sternum— and yank out their heart.

The Simisage wasted no time in devouring the delectable flesh— but not before he hopped off the Charizard’s corpse.

Soon enough, as with Jordan himself, the rot took over the Charizard, and they rose on unsteady feet.

Jordan and Harrison turned away, and shambled towards the nearest home, easily breaking down the door… and feasting upon the hapless Pokémon within.

The Charizard did not partake in this. Instead, it took to the skies, their wings of death carrying them to where there would be more life for them to end, to infect, to consume.

Jordan and Harrison were left to roam Acopolis, to force their way into all homes, killing those within, and spreading the same plague that now consumed them.

As for the Charizard… their flight took them to a neighboring continent, one where there was the most life…

One where, unbeknownst to the Charizard, the Pokémon who were sworn to protect the world from all evil resided: the Cosmic Guardians.

And it was on this night… the Guardians would face an insurmountable foe, one that would bring about the end of the entire world.

 

[Cavespider_17]

As a fan of darker fictions I like the start of the chapter here, it gives off an ominous vibe to me. The use of Arceus and rot in the same sentence definitely adds to the ominous vibes in my opinion. What is Harrison’s relationship like to the King? It almost seems like he is happy to be able to take the throne, and his urgency towards the intruder is more out of concern for the castle. I think his reaction to the situation is very understandable and you do a good job of displaying his switch in form, from alive to undead. In particular, the way you describe him wanting to feel something is very short and sweet and effective. The rapid changing of those around him to attack others definitely paints the idea of a massive disaster yet to come.