Tamah: Would you look at that? I've finally written another Pokécraft fan fiction.

Lavender Town is a village of sadness and regret. I knew it the instant that I set foot in the strange purple town, I could feel the despair on the mountain breeze.

I had went there for inspiration for my work. You see, I am an author of horror stories. Of course, there would be nowhere else better than there to get inspiration, especially since my muse hadn't really been up to par.

Lavender Town is a town defeated. For a few years, there was the bright spirit of hope, but it had been crushed. Here, let me tell you the story. I'd imagine it to be my duty. It is my job, after all.

Once, long ago, before the town had actually been built around it, stood a tower. It was sacred, hallowed ground, built to bring comfort to the souls of deceased pokémon. There are many places similar, but the tower and Mt. Pyre are the ones who have stood the longest.

The town grew from outcasts, people willing to tend the graves and the people who lived inside the tower. The people of Lavender were always considered odd by the other citizens of Kanto, to the others the place unsettled them on a primal level.

Living pokémon made their habitats there, pokémon said to tend to the graves of their mothers and fathers, living among whispers and ghosts. Cubone and marowak were their names. They lived in peace and harmony along with the human grave keepers.

Their rarity one day attracted evil people, not that many years ago, as a matter of fact. These monsters dressed in black captured what would be taken, and killed what would not.

The ancient spirits of the tower grew displeased, and soon the mens' organization toppled in the most embarrassing way, by a single child. The spirits did not rest until bad luck- or death- befell them all.

And so the spirits rested for a few years. At this time, the head grave keeper was a man who regretted the burden of the past, a man many held in high regard, but he felt that he did not deserve it. His past, his character was marred beyond repair. A small group of people knew of his folly, and they shared the inner turmoil.

One occupies himself with riddles to distract himself, another whiles his time by creating an encyclopedia. Another spends her time regretting and loathing the past, and another simply vanished.

Whatever their cases, they each grieved on their own time. This man, the man named Fuji, spent his time caring for the abandoned and the dead spirits. His dedication pleased the spirits.

But their happiness was not to remain for long. The people of Lavender were given a chance of a lifetime. A rich man wanted to build a tower to broadcast radio signals or some such thing.

The only problem was that the spirit tower would have to be knocked down in order to build the new one. Most of the townspeople agreed, glad to be rid of the wretched tower and its baneful influence. The other townsfolk built a building to house all of the remains, all of its chambers reaching far underground. Fuji was the only one who could visit the underground chambers.

In reality, he was the only one brave enough. The only person with a need to go down there.

And so, the tower was toppled, the remains interred into their new tomb. The spirits grew livid. But for a few years, Lavender Town boomed with life and activity.

But suddenly, everything stopped. People fled the town in droves, fearing this strange presence that made them feel nauseous, made them hear music. Sad, mournful, indescribably terrible music that drove people to horrible acts, like murder and suicide.

The power was concentrated around the radio tower. So it was quickly abandoned, and the power vacated the town. But not fully, you see. The rare few people who couldn't feel it stayed and continued to live.

That's where that story ends, and mine begins, I suppose. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that I could muster up some decent inspiration in that town.

So I booked a month's worth of nights at the local pokémon center, that was the only place that offered a room to stay. I used my time to wander through the town, to try and set a tone. At times my gardevior would be my companion, at other times I would leave her behind.

I noticed the people of the town had small shrines, or altars, in front of each home, many with wind chimes hand painted and carved beautifully out of what I suspected were bone.

I found a woman who sold them, and it gave me an opportunity to observe them closely. The first one I examined had a motif of three beasts. One was red, another was yellow, and the last was blue. There was a seven-colored phoenix-type bird perched at the top, with the cord to hang it from. Ho-oh, if I remembered correctly.

The other kind was a similar one with three birds and a white and blue bird- or maybe it was a dragon- perched atop. Lugia, my mind supplied.

These were supposed pokémon, the god and guardians of Kanto and Johto, whom no one really believed in anymore. Why they were painted or carved into wind chimes, I would never know.

Over time, I mustered up enough will power to go to the Soul House, the newer resting place for the dead. The second I entered I felt a tinge of grief wash over me, and then a remorseful silence. I stayed for quite a while, scribbling ideas down in my notebook that I had brought. My gardevior seemed at peace, as well. She lingered near the graves for the longest time.

A few weeks passed, and I gradually began wanting to go to the abandoned tower. No one really guarded it, in the townsfolk's minds, if someone was stupid enough to go there, they deserved whatever happened to them. Besides, Lavender didn't have a police force anymore, the closest police station was in Saffron.

So, one day, I simply went. I would like to lie and say that I wasn't afraid, but I was, even up to the point to buy a trinket. It was a pendant in Ho-oh's image, fashioned into a heart shape.

So, with my idiotic trinket in tow, along with my ever-present notebook, I walked to the tower. But not my dear gardevior, I didn't want to put her in danger. My heart was beating loudly in my chest as I entered the dusty building. I didn't make two steps when I felt anger and hatred wash over me.

I gradually pulled myself together and began to climb the stairs, because the elevators were likely dangerous. The higher I climbed, the more oppressive the atmosphere seemed to become. It was choking me, I couldn't breathe this thick air.

Yet I still climbed, to an unknown destination. It was half curiosity, half twisted compulsion.

I began to hear music. It was soft at first, but the higher I climbed, the louder and shriller it became, until it was hammering into my eardrums with a horrible keening. I vomited twice, but I still kept going.

I don't really know what I expected to find up there. I certainly didn't expect to find what I found. The top room looked almost livable, and the music and nausea suddenly dimmed. Light even shone in from a window.

On a desk sat a stone, a deep, dark purple stone. My hand went to touch it gingerly. It repelled my touch. It was carved with a pattern and strange symbols.

There was quiet footsteps behind me, and I quickly turned. A strange hooded figure stood behind me. I could hear their heavy breathing.

I opened my mouth to speak when a red-tipped appendage tore out of their back and rocketed towards me. It quickly wrapped itself around my throat and slammed me against a wall.

The hood fell, and all I saw was a golden mask, and horrible red eyes that glittered with a killer's intent. The thing was making feral growls at me.

I'm afraid I couldn't tell you much after that, for I blacked out. But I was found outside of the Soul House by Fuji himself, and he took it upon himself to tell me his story, after I had told him mine.

Before I left to go home, he tried to assure me that the true spirits were not the ones behind it. "There are things beyond mortal comprehension, Maxwell," he told me, "Things that shouldn't belong here. The spirits protect us from them."

And with that, I went home to Hoenn, back to my parents and sister, and back to the editor and publishing company raring for more books. And that was what I gave them.

So, you may or may not believe me, but that was the inspiration to my book. All of what I told you was true. I still wear that crest of Ho-oh, I half think that's what saved my life. You can call me crazy if you'd like, but I don't really care, because thanks to the books sales, I'm rich. So. . . . say what you'd like.

Hey, here's a little fun fact for you. In the original versions of Red and Green, the music in Lavender Town and the Tower apparently made people nauseous and want to kill themselves.