Part 1: https://rentry.co/PolicemanPokemonStory

Part 2: https://rentry.co/PolicemanPokemonStory_2

Side stories: (You) are here.

Copanon Side Stories

The Blood Moon's Brand

The night was cloudless, and the full moon shone upon the meadow you found yourself in.
A simple bet made by one of your coworkersfor you to check some haunted place.
Easiest 1000 bucks in your life to take video footage of you spending a night there.
At best it would be nothing, and at worst it would have been some random Pokemon.
You weren't that much afraid, as anti-type bullets were a thing, and you were lucky enough to get issued with them.
Initially everything was as you expected, yet the emptiness of it was unsettling.
Nothing was there.
You were making your way around the area, but suddenly things started to seem out of place.
The stars had gone out, and the pale moonlight started to turn purple and then red.
You turned around, and the moon was blood red.
It wasn't the redness of a lunar eclipse; this one was far more vivid and far colder than that.
"Don't gaze upon the moon, for thou art not worthy of such an honor," said a feminine voice.
You turned your gaze towards where it came from, and you saw something you'd rather not.
It had a female torso covered in rags, a bloody stump on which a dark flame darker than night and simultaneously bluer than the day sky danced in place of a head. Her arms stretched out more like antlers covered in tree-like bony growths, while her lower body was a gory mess of writhing teeth and tentacles.
Whatever it was, it bore the signs of once having been a human but none of the signs of it being a Pokemon.
You started shooting your gun in the hope it would do something against that monstrosity, but it was all for naught as you heard it laugh and approach you.
Its advance was only stopped by the sound of bells and the moon going dark.
With each ring of it, an eldritch silhouette became illuminated with red light, and it started getting closer with each ring of it.
The bell rang 12 times before, at the 13th time, thecreature was directly in front of you.

A lanky, nearly skeletal monster with multiple arms and writhing tentacles coming out of its back, flowing like seaweed in the sea current, swaying from side to side.
But the worst of it was its face.
An asymmetrical, shapeless mass with one large, eye-like hole leading to an empty void.
You wanted to fight but couldn't.
You wanted to run but couldn't.
You wanted to die on the spot but couldn't.
"My master has taken a liking to you..." you heard the first creature speak.
The massive monster raised one of its massive hands and touched your neck with its finger.
An arctic cold washed through you where it did.
It was drawing something...
No, it was branding you like a piece of cattle.
The bell kept on ringing, and with each ring the red light illuminated more and more monsters as gored as the first one but nonetheless disturbing in their own wicked ways.
You fully expected to die or be turned into one of those monsters.
What finally broke you free from the trance was your phone alarm going off, signifying midnight.
The massive beast was taken aback by it, not expecting its ritual to be disturbed by such a device.
You, on the other hand, made good use of your moment of clarity and started to run back to your car.
The bell and red flashes that accompanied it were the only things illuminating the way forward for you.
Not stopping for anything, you ended up crashing into one of those creatures.
It was a tree of claws and spider eyes.
All of its eyes turned at you in an instant, but it didn't seem like it wanted to kill you or take you back to its master.
It just stared at you.
You didn't want to think about its motives and just ran further till the light returned and the sound of the bells was gone.
Finally you reached your car and drove away to save your life.
You still had your camera.
It did record everything you saw.
Instead of driving back home, you drove to the HQ.
This had to be escalated to get the DOD or anyone else involved.

You entered the building with the force of a battering ram.
Shaking and barely holding it together from the experience.
You rushed towards the first to your supervisor with the footage.
He looked at you with abject horror as you weren't able to spit out any words other than "monster", "moon" and "bells".
You spent the entire night at the station covered in sweat, unable to close your eyes.
The camera with the footage was taken to be investigated, and you were about to get interviewed.
You were sitting with your phone trying to text your coworker that they can shove that bet money where the sun doesn't shine, but the conversation was gone.
Not deleted, but as if it never existed in the first place.
By morning you received your diagnosis.
You have fallen victim to a psychic-type Pokemon that called that area its home.
Your footage didn't show anything you described, and your neck was clear of any and all damage.
You didn't have a history of mental illness, so you thankfully weren't about to get fired.
In a way, the idea of a psychic type fucking with your mind was relieving to hear.
In an effort to help you get back on your feet, you got some time off work.
You were leaving the HQ to get back home until you were stopped by someone.
"What is that thing on your neck?" asked one of your co-workers who you didn't exactly get along with.
"My neck?" you said while looking at your reflection in the glass door.
Your skin was red and it was aching, but that wasn't the worst part of it.
Your skin had a shape too precise to be the result of random damage.
It was the brand that creature carved into you.
And it was real.

Hey guys, did you know that Matt...

Your life was always a zero-sum game.
Something good happened, and it was followed by something bad immediately after.
Blessings disguised as curses all the time.
This was no different.
You broke your leg, and it didn't heal well.
So you have been walking with crutches for a while now.
The people turning into Pokemon business wasn't something you paid too much attention to after a while.
The mundanity of life took precedence really quickly.
But unfortunately, knowing your luck, you were bound to fall victim to its curse at some point.
After waking up, you noticed really quickly that your bed was wet with water and your hands were blue, water-like paws.
The pros of the situation?
Your leg was healed, you didn't need crutches anymore, and you felt the best physically you have ever felt.
The cons?
" Hey guys, did you know that..." and so on.
That's right, you have turned into a Vaporeon out of all things.
Using electronics was a no-go considering your new watery nature, so you didn't have a way of reaching out to anyone.
At least you were living with your girlfriend at her house, so she was bound to come back from work at some point.
It was a genuine miracle that your autistic ass could have ended up with such a kindhearted woman.
You didn't know if you were able to communicate or if the sounds you were hearing just existed in your mind.
Either way, you had to try to communicate with her.
You went to the kitchen and jumped on the counter to be on eye level with her.
But with your curse, you had to fuck it up in some way.
Yesterday you were cooking some food, and like the lazy fuck you were, you obviously forgot to clean up afterward.
You crashed headfirst into a bag of powdered milk that you didn't put away.
"What? Vaporeon is evolving!"
"Vaporeon evolved into a Milkeon (Retardeon also worked)!"
The dried milk quickly got absorbed into your system, turning your body a milky white.

You took a look at your paw, previously a clear ocean blue, now a milky white.
"Wait a minute... I'm white!" went through your head, reminding you of that Boondocks episode.
It made you chuckle before the realization hit you in abject terror.
"I'm white! And a Vaporeon," you thought to yourself in terror.
If you couldn't communicate and/or if your girlfriend didn't take notice of the dried milk in time, your pre-transformation reputation would be tarnished.
No.
It would be dragged through the entirety of the Indian subcontinent.
You would be forever known as the guy who fucked a Pokemon and ran away, never to be seen again.
Or maybe you were thinking too deep into this.
You'd probably be fine...
OrWouldYou.vsauce.mp4
"Honey I've brought the groceries," you heard your GF say while entering the apartment.
Your mind was racing a mile a minute.
You heard her footsteps getting closer.
Ripples going through your body in the rhythm of your heartbeat.
They were getting faster.
"Are you here?" she asked while entering the kitchen.
"THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" you shouted while violently backing away into a corner, crashing into and throwing everything off the counter.
For the first time, you heard your own voice.
It sounded like you were gargling water.
Like your vocal cords were made of that stuff.
She dropped the bags to the ground and backed a bit away in shock.
"Matt?! What happened to you?!" she asked you in shock.
"I... I..." you couldn't speak a word.
"Woke up... Pokemon... Powdered milk... Don't know," you finally managed to spit it out.
She started approaching you with her hand stretched out.
Hesitantly at first, but with each step she became more confident.
Your body was shaking, acting more like a puddle in a storm.
You instinctively tried to get away from her but were already in the corner.
When she finally touched your body, you could feel it enveloping her hand slightly.
Your body, on the other hand, calmed down to the point ripples were going away from the place where she touched you.
"You poor thing," she said while pulling her hand away from you.

She took a look at her hand.
It was all wet with milk.
She didn't say a word before stripping her upper body down to her bra.
"Come here," she said while grabbing you like a medium-sized dog.
You didn't know what was happening but didn't protest.
You couldn't.
Everything was going too fast for your liking.
"Damn you are heavy..." she said.
She carried you to the bathtub and plugged the drain in it before leaving and returning with her phone.
"Pokemon you said," she said to you while browsing her phone.
"No. No. Close, but no. Ah yes, you turned into this one. Vaporeon," she said after a while of browsing what you assumed was Bulbapedia.
"You are supposed to be blue or purple. I don't know why you are so afraid of being white; you just look more special to me," she said.
Yes, you were special.
Special as in both of your parents were retarded kind of special and you are the result.
She returned to browsing her phone for a while before an expression of pure disgust shook her face.
Slowly she put away her phone while keeping up the disgusted expression.
"Ok. I have to get you cleaned up. NOW! I can't risk anyone seeing you like this," she said before grabbing the showerhead and mercilessly spraying you with water.
To say the least, it didn't work, as the water just pooled under you, but at least it made you feel somewhat more relaxed.
By the time she stopped, the bathtub was halfway full of clear water.
"This doesn't work. I'll need to keep you hidden until it somehow goes away naturally," she said.
Yet being surrounded by all this water made you feel really happy.
As if all of that tension just went away.
You started to become one with the water, and as you did, the surrounding water started to become more milky.
"This isn't going to look good on the water bill, but whatever," she said while pulling you out of the water and placing you outside the bathtub.
She drained the tub before putting you in it again and filling it up.

She was, in essence, diluting away the milk out of your body.
It took a few tries for her to get you clean, but she finally did it.
You were all clear ocean blue as you started, even if still a bit shaken.
"Thanks," you managed to mutter it out.
"No problem. If I were in your spot, you'd have done the same for me," she replied.
If that were the case, you'd probably be even more thorough with cleaning her because the consequences for you would be even worse.
To be fair, you doubted that that would be enough.
What could you do in that situation other than not be seen with her in the same room or even acknowledge her existence?
No matter what you did, you'd be seen as a degenerate.
Even now you felt like your relationship was nearing the end, even if the worst-case scenario was avoided.
You just hoped it would be her doing it because you didn't have the heart to do it.
"Hey. Cheer up," she said while squatting next to you.
"I'm convinced a cure will be found soon. Besides, you look cute and sound cute with this bubbly and warbly voice of yours, and I like cute things... Like you," she replied while giving you a boop on the nose.
You felt happy in that moment, even if briefly.
But the cure was pure government-mandated copium to keep society from breaking down completely.
"So now what?" you asked her with your tail curled around you.
"We wait until a cure is made," she replied.
"Forgive me for being a pessimist, but what will happen if there is none and I'm stuck like this for ever?" you asked.
"Then I hope I'll turn too so we can frolic in the woods together," she replied.
"But..." you said before being cut off.
"Just shut up. I'm not going to abandon you because you turned. That would just be like abandoning someone after they become wheelchair-bound. What happened to you changes NOTHING between us. When you broke your leg and it didn't heal properly, I made my choice, and I'm NOT going to back down now," she stated sternly to you.

Your GF was taking a shower after a long day at work at the university, getting groceries, and washing the everliving milk out of you.
Ever since all of this started, she has been staying longer and longer hours there.
You always felt like she was overexerting herself for your sake.
So you were sitting on the couch trying to get a handle on your new body.
You somewhat could control the way your body behaved.
Making it stiffer or more waterlike.
Like controlling the surface tension of your skin.
At least you knew that you could touch things without making them wet.
You still weren't confident enough to touch any electronics for the foreseeable future.
"Nothing like a hot shower to end the day. Don't you agree?" she said while leaving the bathroom in her pajamas.
You were too preoccupied with exploring your abilities to notice in time.
In a moment she was sitting next to you on the couch.
"Why the long face?" she asked.
"What? Oh, sorry. I didn't notice you. I was trying to get a hold of myself so I don't leave water everywhere I go," you replied timidly.
"Did it work?" she asked.
You just put your paw on the couch and dragged it over it without leaving a wet trail.
She touched the place you dragged your paw through and smiled.
"That's great. You are getting the hang of it. Come here," she said while pulling you closer in the way she usually did.
She pulled you to her chest and planted a kiss on your head.
But it felt wrong.
You were turning into water again.
You felt a part of your head entering her mouth, and you felt your skin touching hers through her clothing.
Never in your life were you ever physically closer to her.
Never in your life were you ever as uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice," she said while pulling you away from her.
"You've made me all wet," she tried joking, but you weren't in the mood for it.
"Wait a moment, I'll be back soon," she said before going off to somewhere.

You heard rustling from behind.
You didn't know what she was doing, and you were too consumed by your own thoughts to even look above the couch.
She returned wearing her swimsuit and bearing a roll of duct tape.
"Uhm... What are you doing?" you asked her in a moment of clarity and confusion.
"Taping the power sockets off," she replied to you like it was something normal to do.
Did she think you were suicidal?
At least she didn't want to see you dead, which was a plus.
"Why are you taping them off?" you forced out another question.
"Because you are the perfect height to accidentally shove your tail into one of them on accident," she replied while taping off another power socket.
You were once more in a state of brain paralysis, trying to discern if she at that moment said the truth or if she was sugarcoating her own thought process.
"Aaand all done..." you heard her say it from the room over.
In the time you were overthinking everything again, she managed to go through the entire house and tape everything shut.
She returned and sat next to you with a small plastic bag.
Before your brain could ruminate over its purpose, she put the TV remote in it, sucked out all the air, and tied it shut.
"Here you go. Something to help you keep your sanity while I'm gone," she said to you caringly.
You didn't know what to make of it.
"Can I ask you some questions? Are you OK with that?" she asked calmly and a bit timidly.
"Why are you even asking?" you replied with a question of your own, as her question felt off and out of character for her.
"Because I want you to ask some diagnostic questions, and I want to make sure you are comfortable with me asking them," she continued with that same tone.
"What type of questions are those?" you asked, feeling yourself shake.
"For Retrograde PIPS. Just some questions from your past. I ask a question, and you reply with the first thing that comes to your mind. Would you be OK with that?" she said before asking again.

"I guess... You are the expert here..." you replied, not exactly knowing how.
"Great. I'm gonna do the preliminary version. 10 questions. Answer them with the first thing that comes to your mind. Got it?" she explained.
"Yes..." you reluctantly replied.
"Ok. First question. What is your father's eye color?"
"Green."
"And your mother's hair color?
"Black."
"Your father's height?"
"6 feet."
"And your mother's skin color?"
"White."
"Where was our 3rd date?"
"Beach."
"Roughly how wide were the corridors in your high school before you graduated?"
"12 feet. I think."
"What am I to you?"
"Girlfriend."
"Parents and siblings?"
"Family."
"Your favorite food?"
"Pepperoni Pizza."
"What color were the walls at your old place?
"White."
That deluge of questions was tiring to you.
If this was the preliminary version, you feared what the real one would look like.
"So you scored a nice round zero on this test," she replied.
"Is it good or bad?" you muttered out.
"Oh it is the best score I've seen to this point. Even if it is the preliminary version. Turnees usually get a minimum of one or two points on this," she replied with some satisfaction in her tone.
"What was this test even supposed to test?" you asked her.
"It tests if your memories have been altered. I picked some random things I remembered about you or what your parents told me about you to compare," she explained.
"So... Am I all clear in those regards?" you asked with some concern.
"No. I might have just gotten unlucky and picked all the memories that weren't altered. Like I said, the lowest scores usually hover around one or two while you got zero," she explained.
"So now what?"
"We'll repeat the test tomorrow just in case. But if you remember something that feels off to you, just tell me. The score will be raised by one in that case, but I'll at least have a reference point," she explained calmly.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked.
"Sure that's why I'm here for," she replied like it was the most normal thing.
"Those questions seemed random. What was the purpose of them?"
"In general? To get a rough percentage of altered memories. One point is roughly 10%. This test isn't foolproof but is enough to give us an idea about the state of an individual's memories," she said before abruptly ending.
"Ok I'll have to explain to you the scale and what those numbers mean. So from zero to four is the point at which individuals still have the ability to discern altered memories from non-altered ones. Between four and six, the individual can't discern between altered and non-altered memories. And between six and ten, the individual starts to consider the non-altered memories as the altered ones," she explained.
"So if I understand this correctly. Zero-Four, you know that you turned, Four-Six is a coin flip, and Six-Ten you think of yourself as always having been a Pokemon?" you asked for some clarification.
"Oh, ok. But back to the questions. They really seemed random and without a rhyme or reason," you said.
"More or less, yes. The test isn't standardized, and each individual basically needs their own version of it made with the help of friends and family. That's kind of what I did here. Tidbits from your life I remembered you or your parents told me about."
"Can you tell me how a "wrong" answer would look from your perspective?"
"Idunno.Your favorite food being pizza with anchovies. The walls at your old place being an earthy brown. You refering to your family members as pack members. The only criterion for it is not matching with what your friends and family say."
"And what if I don't remember? Is that counted?"
"No. It is not counted, and instead, a new question is added until we get ten of them answered."
"And if others misremember things?"
"That's why we get multiple people to help with it to minimize the chances."

"I'm still skeptical of this test," you replied.
"As of now, it is a stopgap measure until we hopefully find something better. It is easier to work with someone who knows they were a human once than someone who thinks that they hatched from an egg," she replied to your statement in a tone that acknowledged your skepticism.
"Then again, this form isn't my specialty," she said out of left field.
"What do you mean by that? Is there another form?" you asked in shock.
"Uhh... Yeah. The anterograde form. It basically changes your behavior and personality after turning," she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world to your dismay.
"Don't you think you should have tested me for it first? I think those things are more important than if I remember my birthday or whatever," you said with your tone raised.
"Calm down. This test requires observation and self-reporting of those behaviors. And for now, all I needed to know was if you were aggressive towards me and if you were willing to cooperate. It hasn't even been a day since you turned, so you probably didn't even have the time to experience those instincts," she replied sternly.
A silence occurred between the two of you.
"I-I'm sorry for shouting at you," you replied.
"Ehh... Nothing happened," she replied in a tired tone.
"Now come here," she said as she pulled you into a hug.
Her hand was gliding over your body like it was skimming the water's surface.
It felt nice for a change.
All of a sudden she picked you up, took a breath in, and blew air into the side of your body.
You didn't know that the inside of your body would be ticklish as the air bubbles went around and between what you thought were your organs.
"Hey stop that! It tickles!" you shouted while laughing your ass off.

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Pub: 30 Nov 2025 18:05 UTC

Edit: 17 Feb 2026 15:07 UTC

Views: 75