Golisopod Story - The Human Wimpod Evolved

You can't help yourself, you have to peek again
Looking through the blinds you can see that it's still there. A “Sudowoodo” the dex called it, standing atop a stump in your neighbor's yard.
Its empty, beady eyes staring off into space, not moving an inch, like a statue. . .
A chill goes down your spine and you close the blinds.
It had been two weeks since it appeared there.
Two weeks trapped inside your home.
Somehow the world kept turning, you didn't know how. People still drove and walked down the street like nothing was wrong.
They were idiots. Not you. You listened to the CDC, you weren't going to get infected and turn into one of those things.
You tried to sleep as little as possible after hearing horror stories of people waking up changed.
You were going to get through this with your humanity intact.
Your stomach growled
You tried to ration food but that thing showed up just before your weekly grocery run, so you didn't have much on hand.
You were terrified that in the small amount of time it took to get in your car you would catch something and wake up a monster.
You'll just drink some water to push back the hunger.
The cool water manages to calm your anxieties somewhat, it’s refreshing, relaxing.
You manage to stop pacing and plant your ass on the couch with a sigh.
It feels like the whole world is coming apart, but right now your only focus is on the plush cushions that feel like heaven to your sleep deprived mind.
You close your eyes and rest for what feels like the first time in years.
. . .
Wait. Stop. This sort of carelessness is what gets people transformed. You bolt upright as fast as your lethargic body permits.
But something's wrong. You can feel it. Your back doesn't bend the same as before.
You look down at your hands.
Fuck.

You didn’t think you were exposed to any pokemon, so how did this happen?
You checked the clock and you were half asleep on the couch for only five minutes.
Now there's a giant purple isopod inside your mirror looking back at you.
Is this thing even a pokemon? You just look like a regular pocket-free monster.
you're vaguely reminded of a book you read in high school about a guy waking up as a giant cockroach.
Moving your new body is strange
The two big arms with the claws are easy enough to move but you can’t get the little arms to do more than curl inward.
You can’t use your nose anymore as it doesn’t exist, but your antenna can smell just fine.
At least you're tall now.
you’ve gained a few inches in height even in your hunched posture.
The only thing that's the same is that you're still incredibly hungry. Actually you're even hungrier now that you're bigger.
The fridge has some condiments, but nothing more.
The cabinets contain little else except half a jar of peanut butter.
You'll take what you can get.
. . .
The jar of peanut butter sits on the counter like a gored deer. Its shredded carcass has been licked and scraped clean of any PB you could get your claws on.
You couldn't get the lid off.
And you're still hungry.
You've the strangest craving for seafood. Lobster, crab legs, fried shrimp, fish cakes, salmon, cod, tuna, anything at his point.
You don’t even know what cod tastes like but the mental image gets your mouth watering.
Just one problem, you don't have any of that stuff, and to get some you'd have to go outside.
Where the sudowoodo is.
And other people.
Your stomach growls.
There is one place you know that might have something, but there’s no way you’re going to fit inside of your car. You’ll just have to get there on foot.
luckily the sun is starting to set so you can travel under the cover of darkness.

You hear it before you can see the headlights.
Thinking quickly you dive behind some foliage between you and the road
The headlights move past you.
you’ve been at this for what feels like hours, but you know you're close.
You didn't spend all that time sneaking past that tree thing in your neighbor's yard to give up now.
With your wallet safely in the grasp of one of your little arms, you continue on your quest.
Soon enough you can see it. A convenience store off to the side of a gas station.
you run over to the double doors as fast as your legs can take you.
Nobody is inside save for the cashier who's fast asleep at the register.
There’s not much that interests you in the freezer section, it’s mostly ice cream and beer.
In the last freezer all the way at the bottom, you see it.
A single bag of frozen fishsticks.
With your prize between your claws you go to leave but it seems like the cashier woke up.
She’s hiding behind the counter looking at you.
”N-no it’s just kinda wandering around”
And she's talking to someone.
“What! No, that thing’s gonna kill me! H-how long until they get here?”
She’s definitely on the phone with the police. Shit.
Based on her reaction you’re definitely going to get shot on sight.
Better make this quick.
Dropping the fishsticks on the counter causes her to flinch.
”Just this, please.” You say, all cool and casual like.
Unfortunately your new body gave you a bit of an accent so it sounded more like-
KCHCHCHCHC SCREEEEE
Her eyes dart between you and the fishsticks a few times before she realizes what you want.
”Th-th-that’ll b-be eh-eleven f-fifty s-six”
You pinch your wallet with one of your big claws and pull out a twenty.
You’re also a bit nervous and put the bill down with a little too much force, accidently punching a pair of holes clean through the bill and the counter.
The cashier is shaking now, but otherwise completely frozen.
you take your prize and leave.

The trip home felt longer than the trip to the store.
You weren't taking any chances, after that reaction from the cashier there was no way you could get spotted.
The real challenge was getting past the sudowoodo.
You kept your eyes on it the moment you could see it, never letting it out of sight.
One slip up, one moment of carelessness would give it all the time in the world to run up and club you to death with its big rocky leaf-hand-things.
Slowly, making no sudden movements, you slipped back into your home.
Once safe inside you practically collapsed, exhausted and panting, but alive, and successful with your mission.
You didn’t care to cook the fishsticks right now, you needed to eat.
Just like the PB jar, the bag was no match for your new claws.
One by one they disappear until the bag is empty.
With one need satisfied another rears its head
you’ve probably only slept a total of six hours in the last week. And transforming didn’t change that at all.
You stumble into your bedroom and flop down onto the mattress.
At least you can lay somewhat flat on your stomach.
Your arms and legs still drape over the sides though.
At least you don’t have to worry about transforming anymore, or being in contact with pokemon.
Well, they are still extremely dangerous, super-powered monsters.
Was the CDC right when they called it a virus? As far as you can tell you weren't in contact with any pokemon and you were magically transformed in less than five minutes of half consciousness.
Magic.
yeah, that sounds about right. Maybe there wasn’t any logic to what was happening, just some random interdimensional incident.
This is starting to sound like some eldritch horror story.
You don’t really want to think about something like that, you just want to sleep.
So you close your eyes and pass out.

Throughout the day you had discovered many things about yourself.
First, you could thankfully still use a keyboard.
This allowed you to tell your boss you were going to be using all of your vacation time.
Second, you are what’s known as a “Golisopod”
You were supposed to be a giant kickass samurai bug, but you didn’t feel that way.
You couldn’t do any of the cool shit you saw on youtube like making water swords or firing missiles out of your back.
And third, you're still hungry.
You’ve been planning to make another run to the convenience store but you can’t build the courage to do it until night falls.
If that cashier’s reaction was any indication then the general public would most likely prefer you stay away.
Darkness eventually came and with it, opportunity.
Slipping out of the back door, and sneaking past the monster in your neighbor’s yard you went on your merry way.
Unfortunately when you made it to the gas station again there was someone there.
You wanted to avoid leaving the sparse foliage until you were certain that it was safe.
Eventually they stepped out of the store and drove off.
Rushing through the double doors, you were met with a very much awake cashier.
It was the same one as the night before.
The moment she saw you she let out a frightened squeak and froze.
Better make this quick
B-Lining it to the fish freezer you discovered that the fishsticks had been restocked.
Just two should be fine for now. . . actually maybe three would be better. Or four.
This time when you approached the register the cashier didn’t lock up, but she was still looking around nervously
You put the fishsticks on the counter and she scanned them
”F-Fouty-six, twenty four. Please”
Grabbing some bills from your wallet you place them on the counter (gently this time) feeling a pang of guilt as you spy the holes you made last time.
As you go to leave, you hear her call out to you.

”Have a good day-night, I-I mean night”
You turn around to face her “You too”
She flinches
Shit, right, your “accent”
You turn back around and leave the store in a rush.

the moment you’re outside your skin crawls. Something is watching you.

You turn left, then right without seeing anything.
And then you look up.
Perched on the gas station canopy is a bird.
It stands like a person and is just as tall, its feathers are an eye-catching neon green.
And its eyes, its far too human eyes, are staring right into your soul.
You move slowly, shuffling along the side of the convenience store keeping the bird in sight.
Its head doesn't move, but its eyes are still looking.
Once you’re a safe distance away you bolt, making as much distance as possible.
You can’t tell if it’s chasing you so you keep running.
Only once you’re out of breath do you take a moment to scan the sky.
Nothing, good.
You plop down on someone's lawn, putting a bush between you and the road and praying that the homeowner isn’t awake right now.
Thank god you decided to grab multiple bags of fishsticks, you weren’t going to be leaving your house for the foreseeable future after that.
It’s a real shame you’re a giant crustacean monster, otherwise you could go outside during the day with other people. Safety in numbers and all that.
But no, you are a big scary bug from hell that makes people piss their pants when they see you.
You nearly gave that poor cashier a heart attack yesterday.
At least she wasn’t as frightened today.
Hmmm
That thought makes you feel . . . Disappointment?
Something about her acclimating to your presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
She shouldn’t feel safe around you.
You should be big and intimidating, that way nobody will pick a fight with you.
You’ve never thought of it that way before, but now it just seems right.
Yes, you are scary, and that’s good.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cl9FQIT-6iY

You peek at it from around your house.
It doesn’t move, just keeps looking off into the night sky.
Deep breaths now, you can do this, you’re scary.
With hesitant steps you move to the front of your house.
you can’t tell if it can see you.
You creep up to the side of the road.
No reaction.
There's no time for hesitation, if you want to look strong you can’t be shaking like a leaf.
You cross the road with bold strides, ironically the closer you get to your neighbor’s yard the less you shake, the easier it becomes to keep up the façade.
You come up to the stump it’s standing on, looking it in the eyes.
Perfect poker face, both of you.
”G-Get out of here” you stutter out, like a complete dumbass. Hopefully it can’t understand you.
It makes no indication of having heard you.
”GO” you say a little louder “GO AWAY”
It flinches but otherwise stays rooted.
Its flinch makes you flinch, but you quickly put up the mask again.
Fuck. It's like dealing with a spider, you can’t tell when it will move or if it’s just going to jump at your face.
If words alone won’t work.
You raise a claw like youre about to strike and shout “FUCK OFF!”
You feel your heart leap out of your chest as the thing screeches and skedaddles away.
You let out a sigh of relief as you watch it waddle down the street at incredible speed.
Only to watch in horror as the sudowoodo stops and roots itself in place on someone else’s lawn a few houses down.
Whatever, at least it’s not looking into your window anymore.
Your neighbor’s yard is suddenly filled with light.
To your horror one of the lights is on and there’s a silhouette of a person in the window.
Hoping against all odds they didn’t see you, you scamper back into your house and slam the door.
Flopping back on to your bed helps your heart rate steadily drop.
Today was too much. But you feel pride welling up in your chest when you replay the memory of spooking that sudowoodo.


A few days have passed since your encounter with the sudowoodo.
It hasn’t moved since then but you’re just glad it’s somewhere else.
You’ve mostly been trying to get better at typing.
Since your change your WPM has taken a nose dive.
The fact that your claws are starting to scratch off the surface of the keys doesn’t help
Once you order some new keycaps you might be able to start working online again.
Although that won’t last long either, your boss is going to want to see you in the office soon, she was already pestering you about it before you turned.
You’ve been running away from it but you’re probably going to have to start living like a normal person again. As much as you can at least.
Work, rent, cleaning, cooking, shopping, driving, all that mundane crap you barely thought twice about is now a logistical nightmare.
The cherry on top was dealing with all the new urges you feel.
You’ve been really nostalgic about the smell of salt water recently, the last time you were at the beach was years ago with your folks and-
Crap
They probably deserve to know what's happened to you.
There’s too much to think about, you need to cool off.
You assume it’s because you’re a giant sea bug now but the feeling of moving water over your face is quite relaxing, almost meditative.
It lets you think clearly.
Water bill be damned, long, cold showers are nice.
Nice, but you need more.
Only once you’re under the running water do you realize how dry you are.
For once not an unfamiliar feeling, like taking a sip of water and then draining the glass once you recognize how thirsty you are.
You need actual flowing water, not a shower or faucet, but something larger that you can submerse yourself in.
You remember a nearby park that you passed through occasionally, you never saw it, but on the map that was posted up there was a small stream by one of the trails.
You carefully turn the knob in the shower and the water stops.

You spent a good chunk of yesterday planning this outing.
It’s a weekday, so most people will be at work.
You decided to make the trek to the local park early in the morning before anyone got up.
The idea you had was that you would get to the stream early in the morning and by the time you had your fill of the water it would be late enough for the morning rush to have passed and you could make your way home without encountering any traffic.
You felt a little silly, avoiding people like this. More and more pokemon were popping up left and right and people were getting used to seeing them.
Maybe it would be fine if you just walked around in broad daylight like this but you didn’t want to take chances.
You didn’t put it past the government to start experimenting and cutting people open.
The trip over to the park was mercifully uneventful.
The sun hadn’t quite peeked over the horizon but there was enough early morning light to see.
The park itself was quiet, the rustling of leaves making for a pleasant white noise.
You walked down a familiar trail taking in the peaceful environment when something made your antennae twitch.
Beneath it all was the sound of flowing water.
Following the sound led you off the trail and through some shrubbery.
The treeline came to an abrupt end, giving way to the gravel-lined river bank.
You stepped past the treeline but hesitated for a moment.
In the early morning light the water was black, obscuring its true depth. It looked fairly wide, hopefully it was enough that you could fully submerge yourself.
The first step into the river let you know how cold it was, and that you didn’t particularly mind that.
You continued walking, expecting more resistance from the water than it gave you.
Your feet surged through the water unimpeded, sinking lower with each step.
It took until the water rose above your hips for you to realize that you never tried to see if you could breathe underwater.

Might as well try before you accidentally drown yourself.
At first your human instincts took over, you closed your eyes tight and held your breath, expecting the unpleasant feeling of water rushing into your nose as you gingerly dipped your head below the surface.
The unpleasant feeling never came, however. Only the welcoming chill of the water.
You fluttered your eyes open, once, then twice, expecting them to start stinging.
The stinging never came, but you still couldn’t see much in the early morning light.
Now for the moment of truth.
You hesitate for a moment, but eventually open your mouth.
Nothing happens.
Not exactly “nothing” you feel river water flood your mouth but not much else.
You try to draw in breath.
You can feel the water filling a cavity in your body, but not much else.
There’s no stinging or coughing, just the feeling of water filling some mysterious chamber in your body.
You raise your head above the water and try to . . . breathe? again.
It takes a few . . . contractions to clear the water from what you assumed were your lungs.
Only now do you realize you have no idea how you breathe.
The chamber that you assumed were lungs was clearly something else, trying to hold your breath again revealed that you practically had no limit on how long you could hold.
In every other metric besides keeping you alive it was the same as your human lungs.
You could still make noise with it despite how impossible it was to form coherent words, and “breathing” with it was indistinguishable from when you did it as a human.
The reality of being a giant magical crustacean sets in again, you probably had gills (God only knows where) and they let you fill your blood with oxygen.
That cavity in your upper torso was probably only for making noises, if you had to take a wild guess, so it didn’t matter if it was underwater.
Maybe getting cut open by the feds won’t be so bad, at least you would die slightly less ignorant.

The clouds hanging over the city to the east are starting to turn a brilliant red.
the sun is rising, so you should probably do what you came for before someone spots you.
you’ll have all the time in the world to ponder the finery of your respiratory system once you're safe under water.
You begin trudging towards the middle of the river again, more of your body sinking beneath the surface with every step.
Unfortunately by the time you reached the middle of the stream the water only came up to about your eyes.
When you hunch a bit further your face lowers beneath the surface.
Sitting down actually lets you submerge the rest of your shell.
You still can’t see much but you’re finally under water now.
It’s pretty cool that you can breathe underwater but now that you’re here you’re not sure what to do.
You didn’t plan anything beyond “hang out in a river for a few hours”
For now you’ll just sit down and wait for it to get a little brighter.
For some reason the darkness of the water doesn’t bother you that much
In fact, it’s quite comforting.
Closing your eyes you begin to relax.
The weight of the surrounding water pushes down on every inch of your shell. It’s not much but the difference between this and the air is noticeable. It’s nice, like a weighted blanket.
At the same time you feel much lighter, the weight of your armored carapace is no longer a burden but an anchor that keeps you rooted to the riverbed. Your human side tells you that it should be much harder to move down here but you feel like you're floating effortlessly through the water.
The current pushes gently against your antennae, bringing the scents of the river to your attention. It’s earthy and fresh, with a hint of decay. Not the decay of something rotting, but more so that of freshly dug-up soil, black and rich. That’s the closest thing you can compare it to, in all reality it smells like nothing you’ve encountered before.

You begin to feel something moving in the water.
Fluctuations and disturbances in the water feed into your antennae, and with some instinctual bug-math going on behind your eyes you can pinpoint whatever is causing it.
It’s kinda like how you can tell what direction a sound comes from.
The source is close but small, lazily drifting with the current of the river.
Slowly out of the murk and darkness a fish appears.
Just a normal mundane fish, probably a bass or something. Maybe a trout.
It passes by close enough to see its glassy eyes before disappearing back into the dark.
With all of this pokemon nonsense going on you find it hard to remember that there’s an entire world that just keeps moving.
Despite all of your anxiety and paranoia the rest of the world kept on trucking.
At least the normal creatures haven't been outcompeted and driven to extinction.
Well not yet anyways.
The presence of normal fish also indicates that there’s most likely no pokemon around to decimate the population.
At last you can truly relax, as the largest and most dangerous creature in this river, nothing should bother you.
You close your eyes again and feel the water more clearly.
More small creatures approach, slowly drifting with the flow.
You can track them as they pass, easily monitoring their position in 3D space relative to you.
It’s surprisingly satisfying, even meditative.
The first few fish give you a wide berth, but subsequent ones get closer and closer until they act as if you're just another stone on the riverbed.
Lost in a meditative trance “watching” the occasional fish swim past you hardly notice when a pleasant warmth spreads across your shell.
It’s a nice reprieve from the cool water, like a warm breeze.
You crack your eyes open to find its source only to nearly jump in shock.
The sun has fully risen and is well on its way across the sky. You’ve no idea how long you have been sitting here, but the morning has long passed.

You can only worry about how much time you’ve let slip through your fingers before something catches your attention.
Something else is making its way down the river. Something much larger than the fish.
You can feel its rough, choppy movements coming from the surface further upstream.
While much clearer in daylight, there is still a decent amount of floating silt to obscure your vision.
You can see a shadow moving across the surface, and judging by the splashing and bubbles you would say it was something swimming.
As it draws closer a human-ish form resolves, performing a lazy backstroke to tread water.
All hopes of it passing without noticing you are dashed when it drops below the surface.
A short, blue monkey is looking back at you with curious eyes.
It’s definitely a pokemon, and one you actually remember.
In an effort to stay informed you actually tried to play Pokemon white via emulation.
That only lasted until you started having nightmares of yorkshire terriers and prairie dogs.
But you do remember being given this exact monkey in-game.
It’s a water type, so no type advantage against you, and you’ve got roughly 200 pounds on it. You should be able to scare this guy off easy-peasy.
You raise your claws from their folded position across your lap and try to menace the panpour with a throaty growl.
Its curious look quickly shifts into a sly grin. Doing nothing but folding its arms, it lets the current carry it closer to you.
That smug look never drops even as you snip your claws at it, the distance closing with every second.
Damn, this guy’s good.
Fine. If it wants to play like that. . .
Once it’s close enough you shoot out your right claw, intending to give it a nice hard poke in the chest to make it fuck off.
Only for the monkey to deftly avoid your strike like a feather in the wind and swim right up to your face.

You flail wildly in a panic trying to get it away from you but the panpour effortlessly weaves between your wild sweeps.
Consumed by panic your eyes snap shut and you flail helplessly for a few seconds more.
Once you realize you haven't been torn to bloody sheds your eyes peek back open.
The monkey is clutching at its sides and kicking with wild glee in the water.
It’s laughing
It’s laughing at you
It’s laughing hard enough that it quickly surfaces to breathe before coming back down.
Still with that cocksure grin plastered on its face.
Caution be damned, you really want to kick this thing in the head.
Quickly it darts back into your personal space, narrowly avoiding your claw when it barrels through the water.
It’s paw snaps out and taps your armor, pulling away before you can catch it in between your pincers.
It quickly circles around to deliver another quick tap before avoiding your retaliation.
The process repeats itself, each miss on your part making the heat in your face grow.
It’s toying with you.
The joy of getting a rise out of you is clear as day on its face.
Fine then.
Another quick tap and it flings itself away despite the lack of retaliation.
Again, it tries to bait you but to no avail.
It quickly figures out your plan and swims back around
This time it stops directly in front of you, deliberately pressing a finger into your armored shell all while looking you in the eye.
There is a beat of silence.
You surge forward, using your little claws to try and grab the panpour.
Only to find its mocking face filling your vision. With unrestrained glee it drags its tongue across your face.
A cold sensation fills you, like something tugging at your very core, tickling your soul.
The rage is instantly replaced by a primal fear.
Faster than you thought possible your claw sweeps through the water and delivers a devastating backhand to the monkey, rocketing it out of the water.

Pins and needles shoot down your body and it feels like inch-thick hairs are standing on end on your back.
You burst out of the water desperate to be in a familiar environment.
Knowing that you don’t have proper lungs doesn’t stop you from panting, desperate to draw in air even if it does nothing.
The panpour is hunched over in front of a tree and clutching its arm and shooting you a dirty look.
You would almost feel bad if it didn’t just do whatever the hell that was.
It takes a deep breath before shooting a stream of water into your face and running off into the foliage.
You need to take a moment, just standing there and breathing is all you can do while the panic slowly drains out of your body.
A realization comes to you that you’ve never actually hit someone before.
Like actually striking someone with the intent to harm.
You managed to dodge fights in highschool and religiously avoid the seedy parts of town so you were never in a position where you needed to fight.
Unfortunately the memory of smacking the panpour out of the water is clear and tactile.
The feeling of its softer body yielding to your iron-hard shell is burned into your mind.
If that was a normal animal or God-forbid another person that kind of force could kill.
Yes, you are scary. But only now do you realize you are dangerous.
You hate how good it feels.
It takes a hot minute but all of the angry neurochemicals that make your heart pound slowly seep out of your grey matter.
Now you’re just drained.
All that flip flopping between extremes saps the energy from your body and you really just want to be back in the water enjoying the warm sunlight.
You look longingly into the water, but just can’t do it.
If another pokemon tried to pick a fight with you you might actually go into cardiac arrest. That or just collapse into a pathetic heap and cry.
Although saying “pick a fight” is probably hyperbole.

The panpour was obviously trying to have some fun with you and you freaked out a little too hard.
Not that it wasn’t a little justified after it crossed the line of doing. . . that, to you.
It was probably a move of some sort but just thinking about the memory makes your skin crawl.
With a weary sigh you start to make your way back to the river bank.
You wish you could still use your phone, or at least thought of bringing a laptop.
You can’t tell how close it is to the lunch rush or if it’s already passed.
Screw that, you just want to get home.
You take one last look at the river, perhaps one day you’ll come back when you’re a better man, or once you’re desperate enough.
Standing on the opposite bank is a tall, lime-green figure.
The bird from the gas station.
It’s looking your way again.
There’s a tense silence as the two of you stare down at each other.
It’s faint, but a shrill ringing grows in your ears.
The tinnitus gets worse as the staredown goes on, but you can’t look away.
A migraine blooms behind your eyes as something tries to force its way in.
An image flashes in your mind's eye, a large purple bug in pearlescent white armor is giving you a death glare from across the river.
More images try to show themselves, but it all ends up as a disorientating blur of colors.
Like a lightning bolt to the head, words and sounds are pushed into your brain.
NEED
There is a chittering screech, almost resembling your own.
DANGER
The sound of roaring flames fills your ears.
HELP
Something weeps, a sickeningly familiar sound.
Your brain suddenly rejects the bird. Violently.
It lets out a squawk as it doubles over, finally breaking the stoic visage
It catches its breath before righting itself.
For a brief moment it is surrounded by a corona of otherworldly light and in the next moment it is simply gone.
Yes, going straight home sounds like a great idea.


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Pub: 15 Jan 2026 08:23 UTC

Edit: 01 Mar 2026 03:55 UTC

Views: 68