Black Frost





I never believed in this kind of stuff; I'm sure, if you have read Pokemon Creepypastas before, you will be familiar with the likes of the various ROM hacks and odd goings on of Creepy Black, Strangled Red, maybe even Blood Edition or Dead Channel. However, nothing I could have read before now could prepare me for the goings on of my tale.

Perhaps I should explain myself a little more, as I feel I am getting ahead of myself. This all started several months ago, almost a year, now I think about it. I had been at a convention with my friend and stumbled across a section specialising in hacks and modifications for games. We had decided to look around and see what was on sale, or at least on display. Usually I don't care much for hacked games, but the market area looked interesting enough.

“Wow,” my friend said excitedly. “Look at this!” I cocked my head and looked over at the display, showing a familiar looking cartridge selection.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, looking over the displayed cartridges of Pokemon games. It was nothing special; someone had simply collected all the versions of the games, along with boot-legging most of the games from Creepypastas. I was not overly impressed by any of this. “This is pretty normal for a market like this, Alex.”

“Maybe so,” he shrugged looking back at me. “But have you seen the prices?”

I frowned and looked again. Sure enough, the games were very cheap; the bootlegs, as is predictable with falsified material, were only two or three pounds, the popularity of the stories associated with them no doubt bolstering the price from nothing, but the unaltered game cartridges were just as cheap. Even the latest generation, Pokemon Black and White, were only ten pounds, which was really odd, considering they were only a few months old at most.

“Well, it's unusual, I will give you that,” I conceded, my interest piqued.

Now, I should point out that I'm not the stereotypical fan; truthfully, I never really got into Pokemon as much as some others. Sure, they were a fun way to spend the free time, but I never completed G1, the only reason I had the cartridge for Pokemon Blue was that it was passed down from my uncle, and I lost interest altogether after my Fire Red was stolen and never returned. I was only interested in the games now thanks to the new games; the idea of physically fusing two Pokemon had intrigued me enough to give it another chance.

We walked away from the games, knowing the chances were that they were damaged, and the vendor was just trying to pull a fast one. I put my hands in my pockets as we walked outside to get some fresh air and grab some lunch.

“Hey, you know what?” Alex's voice finally said from a little way behind me.

“Hm?” I answered, prompting him to continue his thought.

“Those games got me thinking,” he explained. “Are you still designing?”

I frowned; Alex and I used to design our own versions of Pokemon in our spare time, though they were mostly failures. We had gotten good at it, but Alex soon moved on to other things, and I went on to designing RPGs and mini-games using my knowledge. The last time I touched my creation rig, as we had dubbed the computer I made the games on, was a few months before, and he knew that.

“Not since last time you tried Slumbering Echo,” I replied; Slumbering Echo was a cave-based RPG about a player, who was lost and unsure of how he got there, trying to find his way out. It seemed good, but I over-complicated the physics engine and it had crashed the file. “Why d'you ask?”

“No real reason,” he said, trying to be nonchalant. 'Here it comes,' I thought, knowing this act well. “But, what if... What if we made one?”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“Huh? Make another misguided effort of a spin-off? Seriously?” I sighed.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“No no, hear me out,” he pleaded. We stopped at a crossing and I turned to him with a look of both reluctant acceptance and mild disinterest. “What if we combined the games?” I blinked; we had never tried that before. “We can minimise the amount of self-scripting and combine the regions and events into one game. I mean, the file size would be pretty big, but-”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“That's brilliant!” I cried out, my mind suddenly gearing. “There was a data-connector for the cartridges and game cards in the market! Come on, let's go get it!”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Months passed as we set to work; the rig had to be upgraded a little to work, as the long span of inactivity combined with the rather poor treatment of the processor over time had caught up to it and effectively put it out of commission. However, once it was ready, we started off and picked up speed, unboxing the codes within the Red and Blue versions and uniting them into one file, making sure the overlap was seamless. These were the cartridges we already owned, so it made sense to started there. It took time to track down the games bit by bit, as we had to be sure they were in top condition and unaltered.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">One day, after several days without seeing me, Alex came over to check how it was going. From what he said, I looked rough, my eyes red with monitor glare, my hair messy from many a frustrated and sleepless night. He came into the den and looked at the rig while it downloaded the files from Platinum onto its hard drive.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“How long have you been going?” he asked, slightly concerned; I had been finalising the second generation section when last we spoke, and yet I was now on the fourth.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“I lost track,” I shrugged. “I kind of lost track of time a while back; I found something cool, though! Come look at this!”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I opened up one of the folders littering my desktop, a folder entitled 'G3 Raw Files'. After a moment, I scrolled through the listings of codes until I located the Pokemon listing. As I scrolled, some names which Alex knew flickered passed his eyes, followed by a resolute 'act.jr/ai=yes'. He looked about to say something when I stopped and cursored over one name. His eyes widened in shock.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">We had always speculated about whether Team Rocket would stop at only one attempt at cloning Mew, but the answer was clear before us; no, they would not. The name I had selected read 'MewThree;act.jr/ai=no'. It was obvious that it was not something ordinarily found in the third generation of games, yet the file was there. He looked over to me finally.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“Is that really...?” He trailed off. I handed him a Game Boy Advance with a green cartridge inserted in the top.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“I changed the parameters a little,” I explained. “It seems there are quite a few denied Pokemon on file.” He started to boot the device as I spoke. “I don't know why they kept the information, but it could be they knew we would do this.”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Alex froze as the character appeared on screen when he opened the save. In his team, standing as proudly as we had always envisaged, there she was; MewThree, her slightly pink-grey skin and lilac underbelly matching Mew's colour scheme into a bigger, more feminine and more approachable version of the estranged clone MewTwo. As expected, she could learn any move given to her.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“This is insane,” he murmured. “Do you know what people would do for this?! We should sell her to-”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“It doesn't work like that,” I cut him off. “We can't palm off the cartridge so freely; what if something bugs and we have to repair the program? Besides, I already tried to trade her to another version, an unaltered one, but it claimed the trade was impossible. She can't be moved from game to game without the modification to the files on both games.”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“Oh, come on,” Alex huffed. “Isn't there-”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“A way around it? Don't you think I would have tried it if there was?” I replied sharply, cutting him off again. The computer beeped as Platinum finished importing and I carefully saved and powered down the machine. “Cores are getting warm,” I said when Alex looked confused. “Perfect time to take a break. I'll rescript the games later.” I wandered off, in a daze. “We're nearly there...”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I know now that it was a mistake to keep going as we did; MewThree was just the tip of the iceberg, I soon discovered, and it was downhill from there. Maybe I should have listened to the persistent core overheat warnings and left the game to die, maybe I should have smashed the cartridges and given up then, but it was too late by the time the thought even crossed my mind. Finally, that chilling day came; I finally reached Black and White 2.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">It was a normal download and import, as the others had been. I looked through the different files, the ones which were disabled by Game Freak, one confused me. I had seen some really obscure ones, like an evolution of Machoke using an item know as the Heart Staff, the girly-wrestler Pokemon Machee, but this was truly weird. Where the name should have been, the following text came;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'WB=P,h@iey$um£%9;act.gd/gdai=nvr'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I blinked, rubbing my eyes to make sure I was not seeing things, but the rabble of characters remained the same. Bemused by the string of characters, I decided to see what was going on with the file name. Taking my own version of Pokemon Black 2, I inserted the card into the downloader and hesitantly changed the final three letters to 'yes'.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I should point out that, while I am able to hack a game, I tend not to, at least, not until after I have finished it legitimately. I had been using a second version of Black 2 for the combined game so that I did compromise my previous data. This was the smartest thing I had done in this whole ordeal.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">With the cartridge modified, I slid it into my red DS Lite and powered it up. The screen flickered a few times before showing the home screen; this was unusual, but I assumed it was due to the age of the console and the near incessant usage in its lifetime. After a few moments pause, I selected the game and opened my last save.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Nothing seemed to have changed; I was outside of Lacunosa Town, a short way down Route 13. It took a moment, but I recalled getting Kyurem the last time I played. I checked my party. Sure enough, there it stood; I had all members of the Tao Trio in my party at that moment, along with the Gene Wedge, or DNA Splicer. I had always liked the look of Black Kyurem, so activated the Gene Wedge and merged Kyurem with Zekrom.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">This is where things got strange. Aside from the usual message which cropped up after merging Kyurem to Zekrom, Reshiram's cry sounded over the speakers.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'RESHIRAM is growing restless. Use Gene Wedge on RESHIRAM?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">With what? I wondered, but I selected yes all the same. The screen cut to black, then showed the in-game character in a cutscene. He was holding the Gene Wedge over his head, a ball of black and blue energy swirling on one side while white and orange sparkled on the other. These energies started to converge on the Gene Wedge as the following words came up on screen.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'The Legendary TAO TRIO are at last as one. The perfection of Pokemon has been awakened. PERFECT KYUREM has been revived.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“Perfect Kyurem?” I wondered aloud, but I needn't have wondered.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Within moments, a new Pokemon, one I had never seen before, appeared, its golden eyes glaring down at the sprite of my character. In one of the flashes of lightning, I saw the Pokemon in full view for a split second. I trembled a little at the sight, though I can not tell if it was a shiver of excitement and wonder, or a sign of what was to come.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The creature was tall, easily standing taller than the character sprite, but it also seemed taller than the other forms of Kyurem. The lower body, the legs and abdomen, were the same as the two fused versions of Kyurem to start with, but the skin seemed darker and more scaly, with the Yin Yang symbol carved into it. The tail was longer than before, sporting a large turbine or generator near the body, a long sprouting of dark grey fur, with black and white tufts evident in the mass, finished the tail off. Moving higher, the grey of the body parted briefly for the two white markings of white Kyurem's chest, but the fur above it was darker and sprouted from a black chestplate, which appeared gnarled and battle torn. I marvelled at how the detail of the image compared with the game, but continued up the body.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The arms differed from one another; the right one was black, with a putrid green energy pulsing along the upper edge where the blue of Black Kyurem's arm should have been, and above it, connected to the frozen shoulder plating, lay a furry white wing, the tip laced with reds and orange, as if it were on fire; contrary to the right, the left side bore a more slender arm with a lengthy wing of sorts spread out from the forearm, and the black wing of Black Kyurem's right shoulder lay above it. Behind all this, my memory recalled the wires or pipes coming out of Perfect Kyurem's back and into its tail, two red-orange, the others blue-white.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">But above all this, I froze as I lay eyes on the head, resting upon the long neck. The frozen jawline, the marbled grey flesh, the horrific jaws and demonic-looking crest of ice, mottled grey skin and torn, tattered grey fur. Its yellow eyes glinted darkly back at the character as I watched, then the screen went black.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'The GENE WEDGE shattered. PERFECT KYUREM cannot be unmade.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I was surprised by the message, but thought nothing of it; after all, why would I want to break this Pokemon down into its components? Despite not usually being too eager when it came to Pokemon, I was curious to see what this new Pokemon could do. I opened the menu and selected Perfect Kyurem. A dark cry, sounding like a pitch bent version of Black Kyurem and White Kyurem's cries melded together into one ghastly barrage of noise, echoed as I selected it, which was strange, as I had had the sound off at this point. I thought little of it; it was a modified game, after all, and so could well be glitchy.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The profile for Perfect Kyurem came up after a few moments of a black screen. The information was unusual, and read as follows;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">No.666

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">PERFECT KYUREM

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">PERFECT KYUREM lv. 70

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">NATURE: PERFECT

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">ABILITY: PERFECTION

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">ITEM: N/A

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I was confused by this last bit more than anything else; could this Pokemon not hold an item? And what was a perfect nature, or the ability perfection? I looked at the moveset it possessed on the screen;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">MOVES LEARNED

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Freeze Shock

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Ice Burn

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Slash

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">DragonBreath

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">This did not surprise me at all; all four moves were normal for a Kyurem at level 70, after all, but something was off with them. Somehow, despite only recently being healed, the Pokemon had zero PP in both DragonBreath and Slash, and ten in Ice Burn and Freeze Shock. I shrugged it off, reminding myself there could be glitches with this game. Ignoring the issues, I moved off into the tall grass, almost instantly coming across a wild Pokemon.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'Wild EMOLGA appeared!' the text box read. 'Go, PERFECT KYUREM!'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The behemoth of Perfect Kyurem slammed into the ground with the same piercing cry as before. Deciding to see what it could do, I selected the first attack it had; Freeze Shock. Since my Pokemon was a much higher level, it naturally moved first, charging the attack as had been expected. The Emolga twitched and fidgeted wildly at its move period.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'Wild EMOLGA is frozen with fear!'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I was surprised by that; I had never heard of a Pokemon, except for a ghost before you have the Silph Scope, to render an opponent frozen in fear. The screen flickered once as the battle moved on.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used FREEZE SHOCK!' The attack hit Emolga head on. 'It's super effective!'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I thought that would be the end, seeing as how Emolga had no HP left, but the screen remained on the battle, with Emolga on the opposing side still. The text box moved on at the press of the A button.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is displeased. PERFECT KYUREM used DRAGONBREATH!' The cry of Emolga was distorted to an agonised squeal of pain as the attack consumed it. 'Wild EMOLGA is no more...'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“What the hell is this?” I wondered aloud as the screen shifted back to the overworld, a blackened patch of grass where my character stood, as if it had been charred by the attack. “This shouldn't be possible.”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM wants a challenge. Do you accept?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">A 'YES/NO' option came up, but I was confused, and a little scared too; what would happen if I accepted? I cautiously selected no, but the cry of Perfect Kyurem echoed over the speakers. It sounded angry.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM wants a challenge. Do you accept?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I frowned, remembering the constant repetition of a question in Hypnochu. Would the same happen now? I chose no once more, but the angered roar echoed again, this time louder and for longer. The rage in the sound was almost tangible now.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is displeased with your refusal. PERFECT KYUREM want a challenge. Do you accept?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Not wanting to risk the damage of this cartridge, I finally selected yes. There was silence for a moment, then a gruff snort, as if a dragon was accepting a person's actions a last.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used FLY!'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">What? When had it learnt that? I was creeped out by the games autonomous function now, shocked by the alterations which had occurred in the operation of the game, especially since I had only altered that one character scripting limit. I contemplated shutting off the game and undoing the damage, but a sense of curiosity had me fixated on it.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The scene changed, showing my character stood outside the Pokemon League. I moved inside and checked my Pokemon, only to find that I was only with Perfect Kyurem; my other party members had vanished, much to my disappointment. I went to the computer to swap in some members of my collection to my party. I cursored over Darkrai, my favourite of all Pokemon, and selected it.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'OSCURAS refuses to join your party. It could not be withdrawn.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I frowned, and tried another Pokemon.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'SPARKY trembles in fear. It cannot move from the computer.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'ANUBIS does not want to join the party. It refuses to be withdrawn.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'RAYQUAZA looks disgusted. It will not go with you.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">By this point, I was becoming rather annoyed by the persistent errors.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“What's going on with this game?” I wondered aloud. I had been doing that a lot since starting this project, and it was not something which bothered me too much as a result. “Why can't I withdraw any Pokemon?”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Giving up on this, I went to leave the Pokemon League to catch some Pokemon instead. My character shook as it neared the doorway.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'No, I can't go yet. I have to please it.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Please it? What is this nonsense? I tried again and again, but there was no change. Frustrated, I entered the first room of the league, facing the Elite Four. However, when I spoke to the first opponent, who happened to be Shauntal, the usual dialogue had changed. Instead, the text read;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'…

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">So, you've done the unthinkable... I am disappointed; I had heard so much about you, so much praise.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I thought you would have the decency to play fair, but instead, you have brought that monster.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">So be it; I cannot refuse this fight, but know that your victory will be a hollow, fruitless one.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">It will consume you.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Then, the battle started. Despite the Pokemon Shauntal uses all being ghost type, as anyone who has played the game, or at least read up on it, will know, the still acted as if they could not attack Perfect Kyurem, which only added to my confusion; ghost types were never afraid of other Pokemon... right?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The battle proceeded much in the same way the battle with the wild Emolga had; Perfect Kyurem would remain untouched throughout and would faint the opponent without hesitation. However, just like before, the Pokemon which fainted would then be destroyed and reduced to nothing, followed by the text box reading that the Pokemon was no more. Finally, Shauntal's final Pokemon vanished from the screen, consumed by a vicious Dragon Breath attack. Her sprite looked a fusion of hurt and anger as she appeared.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'It will never end for you,' She said. 'This hell has just begun...'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is angered. PERFECT KYUREM used BLACK FROST!'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Another new move? But this was one I had never heard of before... What could-

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">A piercing scream shot through the speakers, a woman's agonised screech. The sound ripped me from my thoughts and back to the reality of the game. The screen had gone black, except for a pair of glinting yellow eyes on my side of the field. Slowly, the screen lit up again, and I had to refrain from being sick at the sight before me.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Shauntal's sprite was now a dark blue, the colour palette changed down to match her disfigured skin. Her eyes had gone pitch black, looking hollow, as if they had been ripped out, yet there was no blood. Her right hand was warped and twisted before her, as if burnt by an intense temperature as she tried to defend herself. Thick, dark ice hung from her body in places. The battle ended with a text box, which read;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'ELITE FOUR SHAUNTAL has paid for her blasphemy. ELITE FOUR SHAUNTAL is no more.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">That was it; no acknowledgement that I had won the battle, no prize money handed over, nothing. Just the dark, twisted message. When the screen changed to the image of the room where Shauntal had been standing before we fought, but her overworld sprite was maimed and disfigured in the same way as her battle sprite. The playable character shuddered.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'You feel a sudden chill as you realise what you have done. But it is too late now.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Another cry from Perfect Kyurem, this one almost a dark laugh.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is not satisfied by this opponent. Do you wish to proceed?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I selected NO, knowing that I did not want to endure this any longer. Silence, then an enraged roar.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is disappointed with you. PERFECT KYUREM used-'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I watched fearfully as the screens went black, fearing what had happened and what would happen. Slowing, time ticked by; ten seconds, twenty, forty, a minute. By the two minute mark, I was more confused than ever before, and investigated the handheld, only to find it had run out of battery. I breathed a relieved sigh, grateful for the charge failure, and ejected the cartridge. I placed it back into the computer and hastily changed the code back to normal, trying to blot the thoughts from my mind.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">A few days later, I finished the program at last. I showed Alex Pokemon Legacy, and we tried it out, but soon found out why no one had tried it before; the program quickly became glitchy and bugged, crashing the emulator we were using and even corrupting itself. Needless to say, it was a flop and never published.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">That was months ago. 'So, why has it taken so long to write this?', you may be asking. My tale is not over yet. You see, last month, Alex came over again, wanting to borrow my version of Pokemon Black 2; his White 2 had become bugged and damaged from overuse, and he wanted to try Black 2 while he waited for his replacement copy to arrive. I decided there would be no harm in it; I had not even looked at the cartridge since that night, but I had made certain to erase the code before I did anything else.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I gave him the cartridge, warning him there may be some glitches from my testing of codes. He didn't mind, in fact he was even more excited than usual. He ran off to his house to get his DS and try the game out, leaving me to do my homework.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Days passed without any sign of him, or even a phone call or text message. I was started to wonder what could have happened to him, so I went to his house one afternoon. It had been about a week since I last saw him. When I arrived, his mother opened the door. She looked distraught, a little red-eyed and puffy; she had been crying.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">“Alex isn't here,” she said softly. “He is in hospital.” Hospital, I remember thinking. ''Why on earth is he there? ''“He had acute hypothermia yesterday morning, b-but he slipped into a coma that evening...” She looked ready to cry again. I tried to comfort her, but she shook her head. “I'm just going to see him again. Would you like to come too?”

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I accepted anxiously; I had to find out if he was okay, or even if they knew what had caused it. It was a tense car journey, but I was soon at Alex's bedside while his mother went to speak with the doctors and his father went to get a coffee. As I sat there, I noticed his hand; it looked purplish-blue, and the fingers were clenched over something. While no one was around, I carefully prised open his fingers. A small, grey item clattered to the ground, making me freeze colder than anything before.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Resting on the ground, a short distance from my foot, lay a game cartridge with a damaged label. From the remains of the label, I could see the words 'Pokemon: Black', but the 2 had been scratched off and replaced by the word 'frost' scratched into the casing. I frowned; this was my game cartridge, the one I had lent Alex a week before. Why was it in his hand now? Was it responsible for his condition? I had to find out.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I stayed by Alex's side for a couple of hours, the cartridge left in my pocket, before leaving to let his parents spend time with him. I hurried home, slid the game back into my DS and powered it up, connecting it to power to avoid repeating what happened last time; I was fearful of what I would find, but I had to do it; to sate my curiosity, and to deduce if it had caused my friend's condition.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The game loaded after a few moments hesitance. The image of the opening screen was icy and grey-black, with the words 'POKEMON: BLACK FROST' written over the top. The change to the opening graphics shocked me, but I pressed on, loading the profile.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'This profile may be damaged or corrupted. A previous save version has been loaded to correct this issue.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The character appeared on a stretch of road which I did not recognise at first. I opened my party to check the Pokemon inside it. Sat there were a level 76 Darkrai, a level 67 Lucario, a level 83 shiny Rayquaza, and a level 89 Emboar, which seemed typical of Alex. However, the last two slots were empty, and seemed to be coated in ice. I frowned, but closed the menu and started to walked down on the screen. A wall of ice lay in the way. Interacting with it came up with the text box;

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'I can't go back. It's too late for me.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Knowing I had no choice, I continued forwards. As I did, the scenery started to become a cold blue, the tall grass looking trampled and shattered as if someone or something had gone on a rampage. A blue-grey body lay on the floor beside the path. I interacted, wondering what on earth it was.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'SERPERIOR is frozen solid. I don't think it made it.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The image of a badly injured Serperior came on screen, the body frozen solid, and coated with visible ice. It's tail was bent into a painful-looking angle, and clearly broken. It's eyes were cold hollows, yet no crimson stains were evident, as if the cold had caused the eyes themselves to shatter cleanly. I composed myself as I moved on.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">More bodies in similar states as the Serperior littered the route; a Scraggy lay with an arm missing, Victini was forced into the ground with a broken jaw and limp limbs, a Galvantula had it's head turned through a one-eighty degree, as had its second pair of legs. All of the corpses laying on the floor had two things in common; the sickly, black ice clutching their bodies, and the shadowy pits in their skulls where the eyes should have been. It was a horrific journey. I was also becoming aware that the character was becoming more and more blue with every step. Finally, the game music changed, which made me realise it had been deathly silent before then.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I wished it had stayed that way.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The music playing was a dark, ominous tone, which I recognised after a few moments; a darker version of the music played in the Giant Chasm, slowed down by a few beats per second and pitch bent to make it deeper. The usually calm but haunting melody was now just a smoky haze of terror.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'It's cold...'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The sprite shivered visibly before moving forwards again.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'So cold...'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Again, the sprite trembled. Was it the cold alone, or something deeper, darker maybe? I stepped forwards, messages of the icy temperature constantly popping up, until, outside the entrance to the chasm, my sprite stopped.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'I'm so cold... and so afraid...

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Why?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Why did you do this to me?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Why did you release this monster?'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I went to answer the question, when a dark roar echoed. A pair of yellow eyes opened in the darkness as a shadowy hand lunged forwards to support the massive beast as it exited the chasm. Perfect Kyurem, just as it had been before I left it.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I gaped. I had removed the coding for it, why was it back? Had it been here the whole time?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM: I have been waiting for you, boy. You, who released me, only to defy my being. What gives you the right to defy perfection? What makes you think you are different?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">We have come too far now; all that remains is to end this.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I will show no mercy to you.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">A battle started. I noted instantly that both sprites were different; my sprite looked petrified, trembling on screen with sickly blue-grey skin and ice-patched clothing. Perfect Kyurem looked much worse than before, a look of madness about it. It's eyes burnt like hot coals in the night, it's energies pulsing in deep hues of purple and green. Part of me marvelled at it, while the other part shrank back in fear. What was this creature?

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The battle started with the effects of each Pokemon taking effect.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM is perfect. It may not be harmed.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Darkrai's ability never showed, but something was off with the sprite too; it was a bluer palette than before, and its usual animation was replaced by a trembling. I cycled through each option.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'Cannot fight this Pokemon.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'You have no items in your bag.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'No Pokemon wants to switch.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'Frozen in fear; there is no escape.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I watched in horror as it moved on.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used FREEZESHOCK! DARKRAI was vaporised.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used SLASH! LUCARIO was torn apart.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used DRAGONBREATH! EMBOAR was burnt to death.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used ICE BURN! RAYQUAZA was shattered into dust.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Each Pokemon I put out was killed in one hit, each death, as I knew they were not fainting, but dying, accompanied by a respective animation of their death; Darkrai's body was run through with electricity and dissipated into nothingness; Lucario's head and right arm came away from it's body with a sickening crunch of claw against bone; Emboar's body fell, burning and charred, before being reduced to ash; Rayquasa froze solid, gave a pitiful cry of pain, and then shattered into particles of ice floating in the air. I felt my mouth go dry. This was sick, it was twisted... it was... unnatural.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The player sprite appeared on screen again, standing before Perfect Kyurem. I tensed as it turned its head through one-eighty degrees, glaring with its upside-down eyes.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM: Now, it ends...'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The screen slowly faded to black, before showing a single, dark text box with crimson writing.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">'PERFECT KYUREM used BLACK FROST.'

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">The speakers erupted in a torrent of sound, the device grew cold, so cold it felt like my skin was burning. The cold grew up my arms and infected my body. I yelled, tossing in a frenzy. My arm swung, and the DS flew out of my hand, smashing into the wall with a dull crunch. The warmth started to seep through me once more as the screen flickered, then died; the console lay in ruin on the floor. I curled up, staring with wide eyes at the device, as if it would become a serpent and swallow me whole, but it did not. It took me an hour to pluck up the courage to approach the damaged device.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I picked it up, shaking as I did, and removed the cartridge. It was damaged, but repairable. I took it to the garden, which was in the middle of a remodelling, and laid in on a large stone lump. Taking hold of the wrench my dad had left there, I brought the weighty tool down upon the cartridge once, twice, three time; I lost count, but my arm was numb when I stopped, and the cartridge was nothing but dust in the wind. I heaved a sigh of relief, before throwing the console in the rubbish and curling up on my bed.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">I couldn't sleep for days, not until I was certain it was over. When Alex awoke, I felt reassured of this fact, and finally started to sleep. I am still haunted by the nightmares, but at least it can never harm another person.

<p align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom:0cm;">Whatever you do, do not defy nature; for to play god, one must be taken by a god.