Pokemon: As Cynthia's Fiance

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Lapras.

The Water/Ice type Pokémon—graceful, intelligent, and deeply attuned to the rhythm of the sea.

Long ago, before technology had seeped into every corner of life, Lapras were treasured by those who lived by the ocean.

These gentle giants were more than companions—they were lifelines.

If a coastal villager managed to befriend and tame one, it was said they had been blessed by the gods themselves.

Lapras had an almost mystical connection with the sea.

When they glided across the waves, the ocean seemed to settle around them. Storms quieted.

Currents stilled. It was as if the water bent to their will.

Because of this, fishermen and sailors came to call them the Darlings of the Sea.

Physically, a mature Lapras was impressive—its size alone made it unmistakable.

Fully grown, they could stretch over four meters from head to tail, with a broad, sturdy shell that doubled as a platform for riders.

Travelers could sit comfortably on their backs and journey across great distances with ease.

But their true power wasn't just in size or strength.

It was in their hearts.

Lapras were famously docile, with high intelligence and an uncanny ability to understand human speech.

They listened, responded, and even sang when the mood struck them.

Their songs were hauntingly beautiful—melodies that could soothe the soul or carry across vast stretches of water like a siren's call.

And if a lost fisherman ever found himself stranded in the open sea, there was always a chance a Lapras might find him first.

Without hesitation, they'd carry the poor soul to safety, asking for nothing in return.

Despite their gentle nature, Lapras were also strong battlers.

Their unique combination of Water and Ice-type moves made them versatile on the field.

In the Kanto Region, the Elite Four's Ice-type specialist Lorelei famously used a Lapras as her signature Pokémon—grace and power embodied in one creature.

But their beauty, rarity, and usefulness came at a cost.

Hunters took notice.

Lapras, for all their strength, rarely fought back against humans.

Their peaceful disposition made them easy targets.

Over the years, their numbers in the wild began to drop.

As sightings became rare, demand rose.

On the black market, a single Lapras could fetch an outrageous price.

The result was a vicious cycle.

The more valuable Lapras became, the more hunters went after them. And the more they were hunted, the rarer they became.

What once had been a common sight along coastal waters gradually became a whispered memory.

Now, in most regions, spotting a wild Lapras is almost impossible.

When the three delinquent youths were tormenting the injured Lapras—stomping on its festering wounds as if it were nothing but a toy—Sam arrived.

He stood silently on the edge of the scene, eyes narrowing as he took in the cruelty before him.

One of the shirtless teens sneered, pressing his heel into Lapras's neck.

"Yo, who the hell are you?" he said, noticing Sam.

"This is our catch. We found it. We can play with it however we want. It's none of your business."

Lapras let out a hoarse, pain-filled cry.

"Woooo…"

Tears streamed from its eyes, mixing with the sand.

Sam's fists clenched. His chest tightened, breath shallow.

Rage bubbled just beneath the surface.

"…A toy?" he echoed, voice low.

The thug shrugged, still grinning.

"What else would you call it?"

He looked at Sam like he was nothing—just some clean-cut bystander who wouldn't dare interfere.

Big mistake.

Sam exhaled slowly, gaze sharp as ice.

"Talking to garbage like you… It is a waste of time."

In an instant, aura surged around him.

He moved.

Sand kicked up as his foot slammed into the ground.

In one fluid motion, Sam shot forward and drove a fist straight into the thug's gut.

The youth didn't even see it coming.

His breath hitched. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled, groaning in agony, arms wrapped around his abdomen.

It felt like his insides had been turned inside out.

But Sam wasn't finished.

Without hesitation, he lifted his foot and brought it crashing down onto the guy's knee with a sickening crunch.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!!"

The scream was sharp and ragged, echoing across the empty shore.

The other two punks—one with an afro, the other wearing striped sleeves—froze.

"O-Old Boss…"

They looked at their leader, now writhing in the sand.

Sam didn't say a word. He just cracked his neck and began walking toward them.

"You… What are you doing?!"

"Don't come any closer!"

Panic set in fast. They turned and ran.

But there was no escape.

Sam pulled out a Poké Ball and released Darkrai—the embodiment of nightmares.

"Darkrai," he said coldly.

"Restrain them."

The Shadow Pokémon emerged, wreathed in black mist.

With a hiss, it raised a clawed hand.

Two long, shadowy tendrils lashed out, seizing both of the fleeing youths mid-sprint.

They struggled helplessly, suspended in the air.

"You—you know this is illegal, right?! Assault—kidnapping—it's against the law!" one of them shouted, voice cracking.

Sam kept walking, eyes half-lidded with disdain.

"Illegal? Killing you would be too kind."

He didn't spare them another glance.

"Darkrai," he said, voice like frost, "Use your methods. Break them."

Darkrai's glowing blue eyes narrowed.

A pulse of dark energy surged outward.

The shadows twisted, tightening around the teens.

They screamed.

Piercing, primal wails filled the air as the energy wrapped around their minds, injecting nightmares straight into their souls.

Sam didn't flinch. He didn't need to know the specifics.

Darkrai didn't need instructions.

As the god of nightmares, it knew exactly how to destroy someone from the inside.

By the time the screams died down, the three delinquents were unconscious.

Lying there in the sand, twitching.

Even if they woke again, Sam knew: they wouldn't be the same.

Darkrai would make sure of that. The fear would stay with them forever, buried deep.

Every night would be a torment. Every corner would feel like a threat.

That was punishment.

Only then did the tightness in his chest begin to loosen.

He recalled Darkrai without ceremony.

Then, finally, he turned to the injured Lapras.

The creature lay still, barely conscious, its breath coming in weak and ragged gasps.

Sam knelt beside it, placing a gentle hand on its shell.

"…Hang in there."

He took a slow breath, pulled out his phone, and dialed.

"Officer Jenny," he said.

"There's a Pokémon in critical condition. And three criminals you'll want to pick up."