[ EU ] Write from the prospective of a pokemon who either loves or gates its trainer .

Today I killed my mother. Yesterday I killed my father. Tomorrow I'll kill again. But what choice do I have? They would've died by other hands if not by mine. He has hundreds of others to choose from, all locked in that damn screen. Hours pass as I stay curled in that cursed ball. My only solace is knowing that even though I have to fight again, at least I'll be able to taste fresh air while I do it. The time comes as I hear my species being called. I have no name anymore, no identity. I am simply another tool to be used. As I exit my ball I look over the see who will be my opponent this time. I stare dumbfound, unable to move my body, looking into the eyes of my son. I hear the commands yelled at me as I attack my own flesh relentlessly. No tears fall. My body is not my own to use. Finally the torture is over and the final blow is struck. I hear a `` ding!'' as I level up over the disappearing body of my one and only child. I take a deep breath before I return to my spherical prison, waiting for my next nightmare.
