Title: The Call of Lavender Town (alternatively named "Innocence Lost")
Rating: T, for some disturbing imagery and a small mention of suicide.
Type: One-shot

Inspiration(s): Lavender Town, various (often silly) Pokémon creepypastas and game theories, and the oftentimes abrupt transition into adulthood. Told in first person peripheral.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or any of its affiliates.


"Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies."
- Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Once you start asking questions, innocence is gone."
- Mary Astor


I'd always felt that the greatest asset a kid has is their resilience against the things that older generations deem 'too traumatizing' for them. More often than not it is our own parents who metaphorically raise their hackles and complain about things they find 'inappropriate' and should not have to explain. As such, we are considered mollycoddled and not made of 'tough stuff,' like older generations were. That in itself is hypocrisy in its rawest form, but we aren't to blame in this case.

Perhaps it is that same resilience that prompts the regional professors to send out new trainers while they are children. The ability to focus and worry over the consequences later or sometimes never could be lucrative in a world filled with animals that will by any means defend themselves- violently- as needed.

Moreover, I think that if something actually manages to terrify a person during their childhood, that fear- although far less intense- will carry through into their adult years and still have more impact on them in comparison to an event that's objectively scarier, but experienced as an adult. This is how our story began;

The first time I became Red, Ash and Jack- or, if I debuted later perhaps I was Leaf- I had the whole world in my hands. I was independent, making my own money and was the hero of a world run by adults. The whole thing was a suspension of reality and source of wish fulfillment. It all began with being able to make my own choices; namely choosing my starter.

Being able to make my own choices was not something I was used to at my age. If I went with Bulbasaur I'd be able to cruise through the first two gyms. Or maybe it just seemed appropriate that the first protagonist should have the first pokémon indexed. Squirtle seemed like middle ground, and was amazing later on. Then there was Charmander. Sure, why not. Red must like a challenge if fire was within his namesake.

It's just what happens when you are the puppeteer behind someone with no mind or will of their own. Their thoughts and actions are your own.

Regardless, most every kid wants to feel like an adult. Living in a world where children were expected to grow up quickly, it was fitting that it would throw in mature content out of the blue as preparation. And so, the atmosphere of my dream shifted fairly early on.

Suddenly things went from being bright, cheery and slightly tongue-in-cheek to a darker subtext. One consisting of death, ghost sightings, a newly orphaned baby and a murder subplot I had to solve. It also dawned on me that pokémon didn't just faint; they could actually die. And suddenly just having Red for company made things feel a lot more lonely. Okay, so not really. He was me and I was him, it was a paradox. Yet somehow he seemed even more silent than usual.

That poor kid. If he had any will, what would he be thinking? Afterall, what did I know of death? I had never been to a funeral before. My best friend had, but not me.

Afterwards, I didn't think much of the experience. It was a bit shocking for sure, but like most things seen as a kid, I brushed it off. Or, perhaps what I'd witnessed just hadn't sunk in yet; I did speak of the resilience of children before, didn't I?

I was told at the end of it all that I'd become an adult. I felt like laughing honestly. Then later on I considered that maybe I had. If I'd asked myself or someone else any questions about the things I'd witnessed along my journey- then maybe I had gained something where I'd lost.

Also, kids don't generally have bank accounts with that many digits.

It's years later now and I'm still training pokémon. However, I'm feeling a bit nostalgic and want to revisit my roots. One of my most prominent memories had been of that town. So I decided to look it up and discovered some theories for a place I'd been to as a kid.

I wasn't much of an artist, nor did I have any programming skills, but other people sure did. And boy, were there a lot of ideas out there.

There were theories about the music, ludicrous theories. In truth, the ability to type words into a search engine would show that a mass suicide rate amongst kids without documentary was impossible. And notes and images acting as subliminal messaging was just as absurd.

There were thoughts about the sacrilegious implications of moving the dead when the gravesite became a radio tower... or if they had even been moved. There were rumours of a creature (maybe at one time it had been human) that would challenge me to a battle and if I lost; it would eat me. Also, apparently cutting off its white hands and cramming them inside pokéballs was all the rage. It was all as crazy and nuts as it sounded.

With the widespread knowledge of Photoshop and hacking, the statement: 'no video, no screenshots or it didn't happen' was an expired assumption. More and more people had advanced knowledge of how to to use that stuff nowadays.

Others even spoke of haunted game paks, and fleetingly I thought of trying to find this 'Black Cartridge' edition just to satisfy my own curiosity when it hit me;

These people who came up with all these theories and urban legends; they were around my age. Whether or not they wanted to admit it, they had been affected by this place as kids, and even now were trying to bring the haunting experience back by making it creepier. To satisfy the craving for something dark intermingled with something else largely considered light-hearted and innocent. I hadn't quite reached the point of posting video responses denouncing those theories- but here I am, doing research just so I can say; it's not real.

I wouldn't have done this as a kid, I realized. No, I would have let it roll off me and moved on. The need for adults to constantly rationalize everything they see felt more like a curse right now.

It was all just so- so ridiculous! And yet, another thumbnail pictured on the side caught my attention: was that a jigglypuff with bloody eyes? Mesmerized, I clicked on the next video. Sleep was overrated anyway.

I understand it now. The inability to forget and let go of something that even slightly creeped me out as a kid was both an exhilarating and terrifying phenomenon. It was one of my- and many others- earliest indirect brush with death but impactful enough to remember this day.

This is the true Lavender Town Syndrome. And unlike the stories and theories that followed, it was very real. Too real.

If my young life had a Game Over screen, it started when the game textures changed upon exiting Route 10. It happened when an iconic and out-of-character chime began playing and ended with an 8-bit soundtrack of organ music within the walls of its vertical graveyard. It was when death truly became real through something important to me and I began asking questions.

I'm an adult now- my Pokémon journey is long over, and I still hear its call. It was the end of innocence for many young trainers.

Finis