Cursed Poke Ball Part 1- Suicune.

WARNING: Although I do try to keep my lit palatable regardless of genre, this story does contain furry/TF material. Step away now if you don't think you can stomach it. You're the one who clicked this, not me. All the power to avoid mental scarring is in your mouse.

~

In the dark of the night, a man with a short beard and round glasses worked busily at a shop desk in his basement. His brush flick-flick-flicked on a regular, red and white Poke Ball. A photo of a Master Ball was thumbtacked above his workspace; he looked to it in between brush strokes. In his business, he had to make sure the strokes and colors were just right.

"Grrrrrow! Grow! Growlithe!"

The man turned to the small window that showed the ground above his basement. He did not see anything out there for his Growlithe to be barking about. Nonetheless, the noise continued; the man had to hastily paint the M on his custom Master Ball back into place.

"Grow! Grow grow grow!"

He was about to investigate what was causing all the ruckus when the barking ceased. The man shrugged; it must have been a stray Pachirisu. He promptly went back to decorating his Poke Balls.

He was designing these Poke Balls specifically for the Sinnoh Pokemon Breeder and Trade Conference that occurred every October in Hearthome City.  Although many of the breeders there would know that some of his Poke Balls were fake, a great many usually fell for them as "special" Poke Balls. He tried to make his fakes as realistic as possible; they were paying for his house and Growlithe food.

"Hello, there," a woman's voice greeted from behind him.

His hand suddenly made a stray maroon mark on one of his works. Slowly, he turned. A woman clad in a kimono with bright pink eyes and snow-white hair greeted him from the shadows of his own basement. She looked like someone out of an Ecruteak City tea house; nobody made women like that in Sinnoh.

A Ninetales, a Pokemon resembling a giant fox with nine luxurious, gold-white tails, stood at her side. He was sitting like a statue at his trainer's feet. He was watching the painter intensely, almost as if he were daring the man to call his dog in. At that very moment, the painter thought that fox would leap up and tear out his throat.

"Wh-who are you?!" he asked. "How did you get in here?" His mind flashed to his barking Growlithe. This woman was certainly strange enough to set the puppy off.

"My name is Himiko," she said. "As for how I got in...that is a secret." Her Ninetales looked at the man silently. His red eyes were the eyes of Cerberus.

The man hastily hid his wares behind his back. "What do you want?!" he demanded. If this woman was with the cops, he was screwed. If she was not with the cops, she still freaked him out. Her Ninetales was watching him; whenever he tilted his head, that fox would follow suit.

"Why, to make humans like you happy, of course," Himiko said. "Tell me...what is your fondest desire?" Her eyes had a strange flicker to them in the darkness. What little light was there made them flash bright pink in the pupils that made her even creepier. He figured that he had best answer her as soon as possible.

"Umm...umm..." the forger scrambled to think of a wish. "I want a million dollars!"

Himiko giggled. "Is that all? That is child's play for me!"

With a wave of her hand, money rained down from the sky. The man hastily caught every coin that he could, but quickly found himself running out of hands. Soon, the floor was covered with shining elliptical amulets that resembled the coins from a Meowth's Pay Day attack.

The man began swimming in the gold before Himiko's voice snapped him back to reality. He barely paid attention to her as he filled his pockets with gold.

"However," she said, "there is one thing that you must do for me before this can all be yours."

She snapped her fingers. In the blink of an eye, all of the gold vanished. The man fell on his cold, concrete floor with a thud!. After recovering from his sudden fall, the peddler felt around for a single coin;  not a single speck of change remained. It had all been an illusion.

"What do you want me to do, exactly?" he asked.

Himiko smiled. "Loan all of your custom Poke Balls to me. When you get them back, you will not only have your million after selling them - you can do whatever you want with me for a single night. All. Night. Long."

Himiko let a little bit of her kimono slip. Unwillingly, the peddler found himself looking at her soft, pale chest. The moment he started staring, he could not say no to whatever she desired.

"Fine," he said. "Make it tonight and you have a deal."

She smiled. The peddler could have sworn he saw fangs in her mouth.

~

That Friday, the Hearthome conference hall was filled with hustle and bustle. Although in the place where contests were usually held, for the next three days, it would belong to the Sinnoh PokÈmon Breeder and Trade Conference. Kiosks and pens with all sorts of PokÈmon, from Abomasnow to Zangoose, edged the space where contestants usually strutted their stuff.

One stand in particular was guarded by a Froslass. An arrangement of pens and tanks advertised Kuro Jyagami's usual fare: Feebas, Feebas, land-based dragons such as Charmander or Gible, Seviper, Eevees, and more Feebas. Like most of the breeders there, she had a PC waiting to transport anything that was not in plain sight at the time.

"I heard your trainer was working with a new pack of Eevee," a teenage boy with a Zigzagoon on his shoulder said. "Can I see them?"

"Fros," Kisaki nodded, then drifted over to a pen of brown foxes with fluffy collars and large, rabbitlike ears. Although mammalian PokÈmon were not her trainer's favorites to breed, Kuro had recently started working with a strain of what were called the "fastest Eevees on the continent." After a few tests, she had decided that they walked the walk, and began to breed them like rabbits in hopes of getting a perfect Jolteon. Thus far, she had not succeeded, but the third filial results showed promise.

The Eevees looking at the new trainer with their chocolate-brown,  button eyes were leftover babies from past generations. Kuro had, of course, kept the prizes for herself. To make deals fair, however, she (like many other breeders) had tied little stat tags and PokÈ Balls onto her babies' collars.

The trainer looked the tags over before selecting an Eevee pup with high defense and a mellow nature. The PokÈmon did not mind being handled by his future trainer, and gave a playful "Vee!" when picked up.

"Awww, aren't you cute?" the trainer asked the little fox. The Eevee (whose name tag read 'Leo') squeaked again, as if saying, "Yes, I am! Buy me right now!"

"Fros." Kisaki pointed to a sign above the pen. It read "Eevees - 9,001 each."

"A little over nine thousand, huh?" the trainer asked. Kisaki nodded. Not only were Eevees hot sellers, but these Eevees were born with Shadow Ball - useful in several other breeding projects and as another attack option.

The trainer laid down 9,001 in coins. Leo licked his hand as he asked the Froslass, "By the way...where's your trainer?"

Kisaki shrugged. The snow spirit hadn't the faintest idea.

Kuro, clad in her 'Alicia' dress, was wandering the floor. If her attentive red eyes did not make the crowd part like a sea before Lugia, that dress did: that it was black and red was intimidating enough, but the attached streamers looked like the six tendrils of the giant, shadowy serpent of the reversed world.

She called that serpent "Alicia." Most people only saw Alicia in their nightmares, if that. Kuro got random flashes of her and her twisted, upside-down world from time to time. The folks at the League suspected that it had driven her a little batty.

Thus far, such visions had not appeared at the Hearthome convention. She had, however, picked up a number of useful acquisitions. She had always been interested in getting some new Lapras stock, and there just so happened to be a breeder there who claimed to have gotten some from Lorelai's hometown; a trainer from Kanto had traded her a golden Pidgey whose wings flapped glittering down into the air for a Bagon; a Dragon Tamer from Blackthorn City had an overstock of Dratini, and gladly traded one for a Feebas with Altaria blood. On a whim, she had also picked up a fluffy baby Torchic.

Of course, not all vendors were that gracious. As happened at every convention, there were some scammers afoot.

"And this one can catch anything in the sky!" Kuro heard. The announcement had come from a kiosk that sold PokÈ Balls. It was run by a man wearing small glasses.

The stand had the usual stock - regular, Great, Ultra - as well as some special balls such as the Net, Nest, Luxury, and Quick sorts. There were several Balls that Kuro had never seen nor heard of, each with its own distinct, hand-painted pattern hinting at what sort of ball it was. The seller was holding up a PokÈ Ball with a feathery pattern on it.

As the crowd fissured to make way for the Crazy Feebas Breeder, she almost immediately noticed that something was awry. The Master Ball that the salesman had on the table was clearly a fake; the colors were off by several hues, and the "M" had a stray streak that Silph Co. would never let pass.

"Oh? And what does this one do?" Kuro asked, pointing to the sloppy excuse of a Master Ball.

"That catches any PokÈmon - even legendary ones - without fail!" he announced. He had a large grin that was probably hiding half a dozen lies.

"Is that so?" Kuro asked. She felt around in the bag that she was using for her convention acquisitions. Instead, she took out something that she had gotten during her time in Kanto.

"Are you sure you aren't mistaking it for one of these?" In her hand was a purple and white ball with two large, red dots on the top and an M near the center. The crowd ooh'd and aaah'd at the shiny sphere. It looked a lot better than the one on the table.

"What's in that?!" an eager trainer asked.

"Nothing," Kuro replied. She had been saving it ever since her first visit to Saffron City. After ten years, she had not found anything worthy of her Master Ball. "This is a real Master Ball, however."

She turned it over. The embossed letters reading "Product of Silph Co." were legible in the spotlights above the kiosk. Silph Co. was the only company licensed to make Master Balls as per Pokemon League regulations. It had been created initially to catch a Pokemon that the League refused to disclose, but, since its creation, had been remade and given to trainers that had accomplished a stunning feat such as completing their regional PokeDex.

A lass in green examined the vendor's Master Ball. The letters were noticeably absent.

"She's right. That one's a fake," the young lady said. A wave of muttering, like wind whistling through an oak tree's leaves, swept through the small crowd.  People started questioning the veracity of all of his wares.

Beads of sweat became visible on the vendor's brow as curious trainers examined the other capture balls. To him, each comment was a stab to his integrity as an artist. The only problem with his art was that it was illegal.

After a few minutes, he could not take it anymore. He hastily snatched his custom Poke Balls from the display table and proceeded to fold the whole thing up.

"Sorry," he said, "but I really must go!" He left in a puff of smoke and hasty packing. An angry crowd hurried after him, but Kuro was not a part of it. Instead, she watched the frenzy with a satisfied smile. The Master Ball returned to the bottom of her ball pocket. She had done what she needed to do.

Click. Click. Click.

In the false seller's hurry, he had forgotten something: A ball covered in blue crystals bounced around on the carpet in his wake. It landed right at the feet of dark-clothed breeder's knee-high boots.

Maybe I can turn that swindler in with this, Kuro thought as she picked it up. It certainly looked hokey enough. Those gems were probably rhinestones that had been glued on. She would look at it more after the vending floor was closed.

For the rest of the convention, nothing of significance happened. Kuro had returned to her post. At around six in the afternoon, she packed up with the rest of the other vendors. Tomorrow would be another day, and Saturday was often the biggest, busiest day of such conventions. The odd PokÈ Ball had been pushed to the back of her mind.

That night, however, as she was looking over her purchases and trades thus far, the gem-studded PokÈ Ball rolled out of her pack. Only when Kisaki pointed it out did she remember that she had indeed picked up such a fake.

"Oh, that," she said as Kisaki placed the gem-covered ball alongside the new Torchic's. "Yeah, I got it off of a shifty salesperson. Was hoping to turn it in to the cops tomorrow."

Kisaki scanned it with her cyan eyes. She swatted it in her direction like a cat trying to get a toy. After shaking it around in her tiny hands, she finally responded with, "Fros...fro froslass..."

"Huh? There's something in there?" Kuro asked. The Froslass nodded; after an order of "give it," she returned the ball to her breeder.

"Whatever's inside of you, come on out!" the breeder commanded. No sooner had the ball left her hand when she felt a slight sting. The ball had fallen to the ground, but the short, cerulean fur growing on Kuro's hand was more alarming than the lifeless object.

"Blue fur..." she commented as it spread. There was a diamond of white in the sky blue of her shoulders, looking almost like a rather rigid cloud. Not many things had sky-blue, short fur. There was the Marill family...Vaporeon...Glaceon...

Suicune...

"Oh, crap...You're kidding, right?" Kuro asked the air, her nails extending into claws. The fur had spread beneath her nightshirt, and raced down her back to her thighs faster than a thoroughbred Rapidash. Already, her blond hair was becoming streaked with a shiny Suicune's flowing, cerulean mane.

"Kisaki..." her heated gaze turned to the snow sprite.

"Fros?"

"Call- actually, I don't know who to call for this," Kuro said. She was, however, happy that she had not worn shoes; her ankles cracked as they stretched and curled into three-toed, blue-furred paws. Like her hands, they were tipped with curved, slender nails, and sported the same white and blue pattern. With a soft crack, a pair of slender tails squirted out of her spine. They quickly grew into long, white-furred appendages that swirled like satin rivers. No matter how much growing fur, claws, and various spinal adjustments hurt, when those tails started curling like waves on the surface of a lake, Kuro couldn't help but smile.

Maybe this won't be so bad, she thought. Although she did not look that bad as a human, the transformation was accenting her curves while also preparing her for a life in the wild. Her legs in particular were twitching with new muscles designed for quick bursts of speed.

Along with her new tails, her hair, previously around shoulder-length, began to flow like waves on a calm lake. Except for her streak of black tipped with red, her hair became a deep blue, flowing mane.

A pressure about as heavy as a paperweight began to build in between her crimson eyes. It quickly built itself into a blue, crystalline structure. The result resembled something between antlers and the frill of a ceratopsian dinosaur. From the side, it looked almost like the horn of a Gyarados; from the front, it resembled a hexagonal crystal.

"Ergh..." no matter how much she braced for the change, feeling her face extend into a muzzle hurt like being hit by a Mightyena's Sucker Punch. Her jaws pushed out into a carnivore's wedge-shaped muzzle. For reasons that even expert researchers could not fully grasp, Suicune had a small projection on its lower jaw. Whether it was bone or cartilige was still unknown, but whatever it was, it added an extra stab of pain to the growth.  

Kuro tested her new jaws a bit before rummaging through her pack. She sighed while looking for a very specific something.

"Kisaki, hold this," she said. The Froslass received a small tracker the size of a grain of rice.

Kisaki examined the small chip. Was Kuro sticking a tracker in herself really necessary?

Kuro used her claws to create a small wound beneath her cerulean mane. Kisaki sighed; she may as well stick the tag in there, now.

~

The next day, against Kisaki's advice, Kuro put out what Pokemon she had left. As the breeder had predicted, Saturday was a bigger day than Friday when it came to making sales. She was also waiting for that man to come back; if a criminal always returned to the scene of a crime, surely, he would return.

Much to Kuro's dismay, however, many of her encounters went like this:

"Umm, yeah, your Eevees are nice," the Ace Trainer muttered with a flush of red in his cheeks,"but how much for you?"

It is unusual to see a Suicune angry, but this one certainly was.

"Oh, not again..." Kuro complained. Her ribbonlike tails went from swirling to jagged in seconds. "I am NOT for sale!" The trainer took the hint and skittishly walked elsewhere. One would think that being part Legendary Pokemon would attract more business, but with that attitude, she wound up breaking even.

"Arceus, that's the fifth time today," she muttered. Kisaki sighed. This was going to be a long convention.

There was no sign of the fake Poke Ball peddler among the people passing by her kiosk. Kuro encountered a few other hybrids like herself - a Luxray, two Lucario, a Sceptile, an Entei that did nothing more than give her a gentlemanly hello (to her relief),  and no less than five Eeveelutions - but the peddler had gotten out of there as fast as his legs could carry him. She had the feeling he was not at the convention anymore.

She also had the distinct feeling that a coward like that was not behind the sudden rise in hybrids. The more Kuro thought about it, the more that things did not add up. A lot of the hybrids she saw were of decently rare or powerful Pokemon that would give a burglar like him a hassle.

She would stop targeting the burglar and look for the real mastermind.