Cursed: An Anthology

by Limitless Musings

In the shadows our worst fears hide. In our minds our guilt cannot fight.

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

Suggested Listening: 'Apollo' (For What it's Worth) by Think Up Anger Feat. Malia J.

Description: There are only two things that these few trainers share in common: The first is the curse of the burdens they carry. The second is the monster that lurks in their shadow, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Chapter Summary: In the shadows our worst fears hide. In our minds our guilt cannot fight.

Cursed: An Anthology

Entry One:Patient Zero

They call it "The Curse". The legend tells of a Pokémon whose mere touch could taint and spread so far and so wide that nothing would ever escape its grasp. As the accumulated folklore from all the different regions afflicted by this phenomenon describe, "The Curse" can infect another just through a simple interaction with one who'd been 'afflicted' by the creature. A handshake, a hug, perhaps even by a simple exchanging of gifts. Truthfully, no one knows for sure if "The Curse" even exists. There is no concrete evidence to prove such a thing. However there is one undeniable truth. Something strange has been happening. Tragedies thought uncommon yet now so widespread that it is not quarantined to a single region. Kanto, Hoenn, Sinnoh and even Alola… these places have all felt the effects of this nameless being. So what is it? What could possibly be so terrifying?

I don't know. It's been far too many years for me to count since the last time I'd encountered anything similar to it. In order to understand this phenomenon better, I first had to pinpoint where it began. Thus, I found 'Patient Zero' as the Institution prefers to call him. He's the earliest known point of contagion. He was the one who "started it all" as the legends would later claim. So who was this person? What was his connection to this mysterious Pokémon? Most of all… why had he been chosen?

These are just a small, anecdotal collection of the folklore as told by the people most closely involved. How much of it is true… well, I don't think I'll ever know.

Chapter One: Haunted

A young man stood before his family's new home. The teen's brows furrowed ever so slightly. His lips pulled into a thin line as the weight of the boxes in his arms grew just a few pounds heavier. White sneakers dug themselves a little more firmly into the lush earth of the ground. The first thing he noticed was that the air was colder here than back in Fuchsia City. A white haze cast a thick veil over the otherwise beautiful landscape of Lavender Town. It was as if this place was permanently locked in some sort of frozen mist. He'd been here once before, but that was not a memory the young man wished to bring up now.

His mother's hand suddenly dropped on his shoulder, "Are you okay, Cyan?" He nodded in return, shifting the boxes into a more comfortable position. "That's good to hear." The laugh lines on the older woman's face lifted with her smile, "Coral was talking about how she wanted you to help her go Caterpie hunting. Do you feel up for it?" It'd just been the three of them since his father's death eight years ago. His mother and sister, Coral, were all that remained of their immediate family. Most of their extended family had either passed away from old age or splintered off into the different regions of the world. Last he heard Sable, the only cousin closest in age to himself, had moved to the Sinnoh Region to take on the Pokémon League there. He shook his head and pushed the rush of unwanted memories away from the front of his mind.

Turning his attention back to the conversation, Cyan nodded again, "Let me put these away first. I'll keep her entertained while you unload." The young man handed her a pokéball, its exterior battle worn with deep scratch marks. "Take Arcanine with you to help."

The woman paused as she cautiously eyed the pokéball. Strands of auburn hair fell from the loose bun atop her head into her eyes. She sucked a breath between her teeth, as if to say something. Thinking better of it, she released a sigh and gave her oldest child a warm hug.

"It'll get easier." The words were spoken with a heartfelt truth. Cyan's stomach twisted as bile rose at the back of his throat. His mother's calming scent filled his nose. The soft smell of lilac brought back images of a glowing sun and laughter that was far from this place. Those few, cherished memories were far away from the cold and gloom of this town, this home even. Although Cyan was reluctant to even use the word at the moment to reference this shack of a house. All of the floorboards creaked when stepped on, the windows groaned noisily when opened, spiders made their homes in the long abandoned bedrooms and an odd sensation of fear constantly sent chills down his spine. This house was not his home. It never would be.

She withdrew from him and flashed a reassuring smile. His mother didn't speak any more words. Instead her age withered fingers gave a firm squeeze on his elbow before she ushered herself out the front door. She'd always been like that, even during the worst times of their family's lives. The ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Cy!" A tiny voice cried out excitedly from the darkness of the balcony above, "I think I found something, come quick!" The teen placed the boxes in the soon to be living room. The floors squealed in protest beneath the weight of each step he took. There wouldn't be any way he could sneak up on his sister anymore in a place like this. The young man supposed that they would have to play hide and seek in the foggy atmosphere of the backyard whenever Coral was feeling particularly rambunctious. The great Arceus knew that their mother couldn't handle working a regular forty-hour job on top of corralling an overactive, overgrown toddler at the same time.

"What is it?" Cyan asked in a rather dull tone. Truthfully, he didn't care much for some of these games. Caterpie hunting was one of his least favorite activities to partake in. Partially because he wasn't very fond of the Pokémon… and they weren't fond of him either.

"I found a treasure!" Coral cheered as her feet scurried across the groaning floors. He briefly wondered how long it would take before one of their legs would fall through the damn things. "Oomphf!" His sibling groaned followed by the loud thud of her body tripping over something heavy. He casually marched upstairs, hands in his pockets to survey the damage. Thankfully nothing was broken other than the girl's ego. Cyan held out a single hand and offered it to the child.

"You idiot." The boy reprimanded slightly though his tone didn't hold any edge to it. The words were spoken softly and without anger. "Watch it, otherwise next time it'll be your leg that breaks."

Coral paled, "Nuh uh!" She shook her head fervently, her light caramel colored hair falling into her face with each violent shake. "You're a liar, Cy!" She gathered up the clutter of items that'd fallen from her arms. "Now take these! You're going to be my butler!"

"According to whom?" A dark colored brow lifted.

"According to mom!" She responded.

A slight smirk spread across Cyan's lips, "Are you sure about that?"

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. A feeling of foreboding caused a shiver to run through her little body. "Yes! She said you had to entertain me!" Coral fussed and stomped her feet.

"What are you, two?" The smirk spread even wider as he lifted his arms away from his body, "And that doesn't mean play butler." Aquamarine eyes twinkled mischievously.

"You. Wouldn't. Dare!" The ten-year-old growled.

The sounds of metal clanging on the ground reverberated through the empty house. Pots, pans and odd little knick-knacks rolled away from his feet. "Now you get to clean up while I supervise. That's entertaining."

Coral's mouth hung open.

"MOM!" The child screamed at the top of her lungs. Admittedly, Cyan was fully aware how much of a brat his sister could be when she didn't get her way. Part of the fun was always annoying her until she reached her breaking point. The only issue was when she parted those lips, waited those two dreadful seconds of preparing her vocal chords, then let loose the most ear blistering screech that'd scare away even the most frightening of Pokémon. He should know, he'd seen her terrify a Gyarados once. His ears still bled occasionally from the incident.

"Coral, mind your brother!" Their mother yelled out in exasperation. Arcanine barked once in agreement from the parent's side. Coral pursed her lips together as her cheeks flushed in silent fury.

"Better get cracking." Cyan teased, crossing his arms over his chest. The teen blinked as something hit the rubber sole of his foot. Glancing down, he noticed an oddly shaped trinket. He plucked it from the floor and stared at it with intrigue. The object was made entirely of some type of metal. He swept his fingers over the cobwebs blanketing the surface of the strange creation. The bottom of the object came to a dull point while it sides formed a hexagonal shape. The top was a large stem roughly big enough for a finger and thumb to grasp comfortably. The teen placed the item on the floor. He brushed his hand over the wood panels to ensure no debris would get in its path.

"What are you doing?" His sister asked, forgetting about the anger she'd felt only moments before.

"I think it's a die." Cyan answered truthfully. He grasped the upper stem, twisted his fingers then spun the object. It twirled unevenly. The die tilted and jumped ever so slightly from the ground as it went over an unexpected dip in the floorboards. The siblings watched in curiosity as the die tapped the side of a metal pot that'd fallen earlier. It bounced off, teetered over to one side then straightened back into an upright position.

"It's not stopping." Coral commented.

He nodded, "You're right."

Enthralled, the two watched in silent contemplation. The die continued to spin rapidly, unbothered by the scattered objects around it. The girl's fingers suddenly clutched the sleeve of his shirt.

"It's a ghost!" She cried out fearfully. She tugged on the cloth with all of her might. His collar began to stretch from the force of her grip. Cyan grasped her hands and sighed.

"It's not a ghost." The teen bent down and plucked the die from the ground, "It's just been designed to have a lot of momentum. Look," He pointed to the bottom, "This here is to help it spin. And this," He gestured to the side, "Is to help it balance and keep it going for longer periods of time."

She peered at it skeptically. Cyan curled his hand over the die. It was the first time he noticed it but the object was freezing to the touch. The icy metal cooled the heat emanating from the palm of his hand. The teen pushed it towards Cora's horrified face.

"Feel for yourself, it's not a ghost." The young man smirked as she cast a wary look between his outstretched palm and his face.

Hesitantly, the child took her index finger. She lifted it towards the die and sucked in a deep, shuddering breath between her lips. Her hands shook as she dipped the digit towards the item. Just as the tip of her finger touched the outer stem, Cyan dipped his head next to her ear.

"Boo!" He yelled. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Coral flung herself to the opposite side of the corridor. She placed her hands over her eyes and began to sob loudly. Cyan tried to reign in his laughter. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and gasped for breath.

"You should see yourself!" The teen wiped his eyes. The sound of four paws rushing up the stairs reverberated through the once abandoned home. Arcanine paused at the top of the staircase, its dark eyes swiveled between the two siblings. Once assured that they were safe, it began to pace around the tiny hallway with its nose to the ground—seeking out any possible dangers.

"That wasn't funny!" Coral wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, "You really scared me!" The fire-type Pokémon approached the crying child. It pressed its head against her cheeks, attempting to soothe her fears. She brushed her fingers through the dog-like creature's soft fur. Caramel-colored hair fell in her face as she tried to hide her upset.

"Sorry, sorry!" The young man teased. He placed his palms on his knees before pushing off of his legs to stand. "I'm done now, I promise." He struck out his pinky finger towards her. His sister took a shuddering breath. She hooked her own finger through his and gave it a simple downward tug.

"Now come on, let's go Caterpie hunting. What do you say?" Cyan inquired, taking his sister's hand into the palm of his own. The child nodded slowly. It'd always been like this between them. Coral had a habit of falling into her tantrums when she didn't get her way. As much as he and their mother tried, it was difficult to reel her in when they started. So doing something to redirect her attention was usually the best bet. In this case, scaring her was that redirect.

Arcanine pushed its head under his arm—a silent request for more attention. He brushed his fingers through its fur. The teen sighed as they embarked on their 'journey' to find Caterpie. Unfortunately even after three hours of searching, the only thing the two managed to find were even more creepy trinkets and an occasional Weedle. The die had been stuffed in his pocket. Yet with each step he took, he could feel the coolness of the metal brushing against his leg through the cloth. It was as if a cube of ice were sitting in the darkness of his pocket, not a metal trinket. Was it natural for something like that to never warm even against human touch? It definitely seemed odd at the least.

"Dinner!" Their mother suddenly called from the kitchen below. The siblings stopped by the banister that overlooked the foyer from the second floor. White paint chipped off of the once ornate spindles of wood that decorated the barrier. Despite all of the furniture being moved in, something about this place still seemed so… empty. His mother promised that it'll eventually feel like home. Afterwards she handed him a bucket of paint and a brush and requested that he do most of the walls during his down time. To say that he was unenthused would be an underestimation of his lack of motivation to perform this task.

"We'll be there in a minute." Cyan responded. Coral's fingers tightened over his hand—her grip nearly causing him pain. His instincts kicked into high gear. His sibling was eccentric at best. She was also difficult to deal with at her worst. However very rarely did she find things to fear. This behavior was not normal for her.

"Do you hear it?" Sharp nails dug into the flesh of his palm. She took her index finger of her free hand and pointed towards the back of the corridor where they'd just come from. As of now the electric only worked in specific areas of the house. Much of the electricity hadn't been used in years. The panels were in disrepair and many wires still needed replacing. Only the downstairs and upper game room had efficiently working lights. If they wanted to see, then they'd have to use the lanterns currently resting upon their nightstands. The contraptions were old and practically useless by now. They could only be lit with Arcanine's flames or spare matchsticks and even then it had to be maintained by said Pokémon or heat source, otherwise it'd go out. He'd tried imploring their mother to at least invest in flashlights, however due to the move and the amount of renovation needed to the home, they simply couldn't afford it at this time. So now here they were, stuck at the end of a darkened hallway, with no way to light anything except to have Arcanine use Ember… which was not a good idea considering the state of the house.

"I don't hear anything." Cyan sighed heavily. He just knew moving here was a bad idea. It wasn't enough that Coral had issues fitting in back in Fuchsia city, now they'd have to deal with the uprooting and horrific nightmares this place would cause her. The teen wasn't sure if he was going to get any sleep tonight due to that fact alone.

"There! It's over there!"

Both his and Arcanine's gazes were drawn to the far end of the corridor. It was blackened by the night and lack of electric running through that part of the home. Aquamarine colored eyes narrowed as he squinted into the shifting shadows. Something moved.

"What?" He asked no one in particular.

His sister tugged on the sleeve of his shirt violently, "Do you see it?"

Hunched in the back, something round and rather small sat. It was as if a mass of shadows were somehow collecting in that corner on their own accord. It shifted and flickered every once in a while. The movements were odd, it'd judder and shift in new places as if it were a movie skipping. A shiver chilled Cyan's spine as the sound of a cat-like claws being dragged across fabric entered his ears. Maybe it was a stray? His mind tried to picture a cat in that shadow, but no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't reconcile what he was seeing with what he'd hoped to find.

"Arcanine…" The teen commanded silently. The fire-dog drew its lips back into a snarl. Fangs bared and a growl rising from the back of its throat, his Pokémon was as menacing as it could be. The creature turned. Both he and his sister gasped at the blinding scarlet eyes narrowing at them. The scratching ceased. Instead a return growl started to float towards them. The sound was deep and guttural. However it also seemed to be coming in through a filter as static corrupted the sound into something sinister. This wasn't a cat. He didn't even think it was a Pokémon!

"Extreme Speed!" Cyan commanded. Any fire type moves would be useless here. It'd only catch the whole house on fire and then they'd be in even more trouble. Using this technique in particular would also tell whether or not what they were dealing with could be afflicted by normal damage. He only hoped that it could be.

The canine dove forward. Its body collided against the ground, causing the floor beneath their feet to shake. Coral clung to his leg. Her nails dug into the flesh of his thigh as his eyes were riveted to the monster standing between them and Arcanine. This was no ordinary creature. A wide smile spread across its shadowy lips. It exposed a set of fangs even longer than his pokémon's. They glimmered against the yellow reflection of the light from the foyer below—casting an eerie image of something beyond their understanding. This was neither Pokémon nor human. So what was it?

Just as it unfurled its clawed little hands from its side, his mother ascended the stairway.

"Is everything alright?" She held one of the lanterns that they'd piled up downstairs towards them. The shadow melted into the ground, disappearing entirely. "Why are you so pale? Come, let's get you guys downstairs where it's warm." Their parent wrapped her arm around Coral's shoulders. "We'll eat some dinner then watch a movie, how does that sound?" Neither of them responded. How could they? What could they say? A ghost had just attacked them in the hallway? There was no way to prove such a thing. His fists clenched at his side. This house… was wrong.

"Arcanine," He gestured for it to follow, "Let's get going." It glanced between him and the shadow in the floor. A low growl rumbled from the dog's throat. The pair descended the curved stairway after the rest of the family. He always knew he was going to hate this place. He just didn't think the house itself would come with its own set of baggage as well.

That night both he and Coral slept on the couch. He'd pressed himself as far against the headrest as possible, which she curled into him. Their mother had thrown a spare blanket over the siblings. Arcanine took the familiar spot on the floor. It very rarely left his side and often chose to remain either on the floor or in his bed if given enough space. The house creaked and groaned against the wind but nothing too unsettling.

Cyan closed his eyes as the image of that creature reappeared in his thoughts. What was it? Why was it here? Could it really be a ghost? He was a highly superstitious person. He disliked walking under ladders and took the time to avoid any path a black-colored meowth had crossed. Although those Pokémon were exceedingly rare in the first place. So they had little to worry about in that regard. His friends often teased him for these habits but they've served him well… at least until now. The next time he opened his eyes the light of morning bled through the open-windows.

As he looked around, he spied Coral standing in the foyer. Upon her back was her familiar Eevee bag. It was packed to the brim with toys and a little, purple stuffed doll hanging out of the opening. It wasn't based off of any known creature. It just happened to be some cute, star-shaped plush with oogly blue eyes and a red line for a smile. It was also one of Coral's favorites. She took it everywhere she went.

"Are you going with mom?" Cyan inquired as he lifted himself from the couch. His feet brushed against Arcanine's spine. The teen shifted his position to avoid stepping on his Pokémon. The tiger-dog lifted its head and gave a loud yawn. He tried to do the same but found dust particles clogging his throat. The young man coughed violently into his hand.

"I was, but she's gone now." The girl responded. Her eyes remained riveted to the balcony above her head. She pressed her lips into a thin line. Lifting her hand, she pointed towards the darkness above. "I think its back."

Cyan jumped from his seat and ran over to her side. The child's crystal colored eyes peered into the shadows.

"Do you see it?" The area where the tip of her finger directed shifted slightly. "It's there." She then turned her finger to gesture towards the top of the staircase, "And there." The teen pushed her behind him. He couldn't see what she spoke of. Instead of darkness and gleaming eyes, all he could see where dust balls and the thin trails of light carving its way into the upper floors.

"It'll be fine." He took her hand into his own, "I'll walk you to mom. She's already left right?" She nodded once. Cyan brought his sibling to his pokémon's side.

"You stay here. I'll be ready shortly."

Coral didn't answer him this time. Instead she locked her arms around Arcanine's neck and refused to move from her spot. As far as he knew she hadn't woken up from a night terror the previous night. Which was good considering their encounter the other day. It was clear that there was something in this house, but what? The fact that they were in Lavender Town was probably going to be the shallow root of the answer he wanted. Still, he needed to know more than that. If this really was a haunting then what was it haunting them? Why here? What was it after? He didn't like the looks of this. Not at all.

Once finished, he gathered up all of his supplies and returned to the foyer. Both Arcanine and Coral were waiting. She held out her hand for him to take. He didn't hesitate. Their mother only had a few particular sets of skills. Namely, healing pokémon. While there was a Pokémon center in Lavender Town, they weren't necessarily hiring. Which had only left one place for her to go. The Pokémon House. It had been founded by a man named Mr. Fuji. He'd allowed his mother to work there as a paid volunteer to care for some of the Pokémon that'd been abandoned. Overall she seemed excited about it. He just wasn't too thrilled by their new home.

The walk to the Pokémon House was a quiet one. Neither of the siblings spoke but an air of tension rose between them. Cyan could feel his hands begin to shake. It'd been so long since he last walked through this town. The memories chilled him to the bone. He brought his free hand up, grasped the bill of his cap and pulled it over his eyes.

"It's my fault."

He spoke those words once. He never wanted to have to do it again. His sister released his hand as she ran forward. Her fingers slipped out of his grasp quicker than he could register. The teen blinked. He turned his attention to their destination. They'd managed to make the trip in record timing. Had he been dragging poor Coral all the way here and just hadn't paid enough attention? Or had she been tugging on his arm the whole time? He couldn't remember.

"Coral!" Their mother reprimanded, "I told you to be ready this morning. You were still fast asleep!" She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. A strand of hair fell from behind her ear into her face. The girl nodded.

"Sorry." The child brushed past and into the home. She placed herself into the corner and brought out a particularly favored book. Cyan sighed heavily. This was one of Coral's impenetrable defense mechanisms. She wasn't like a lot of kids her age. When under a lot of stress, she often shut down. That was part of the reason they moved. The intense bullying the other children had put Coral through had left her nearly catatonic. It was only after their mother informed the girl of the move that she started to perk up once more.

"Not again…" His parent sounded exasperated, "What happened yesterday? The both of you were acting strange." An edge of concern formed in her expression by the knitting of her brows. He knew what she was thinking. She was worried that he had perhaps teased her too much.

"Not sure. We saw something yesterday, I think it might've been a pest." The boy quickly lied. There was no reason to cause hysteria or to make their mother believe that he was paranoid. He needed his answers first. "I'll check it out later tonight. First I'll head to the Tower. I have some," He hesitated momentarily. The flashes of painful memories rushed forward again. He shook his head. Not here, not now. He couldn't afford it. "… business to attend to."

She placed a gentle on his shoulder, "Take as long as you need." He turned his back. Now wasn't the time. This wasn't the place. He chanted those two sentences in his head over and over again. Cyan wandered away from the Pokémon House. He approached a nearby bench and casually flipped through his largely unused pokédex.

Cyan searched through information he gained over time during his journey as a trainer. While short lived, he had accomplished quite a bit during that time period. He separated out his search specifically for ghost-types. It would be the only thing that would explain the creature's ability to dodge Extreme Speed and sink into the ground like water. Slumping and breathing through his nose, Cyan stopped at number 094, Gengar. It beeped the entry at him, "Under a full moon, this Pokémon likes to mimic the shadows of people and laugh at their fright."

"Damn," Cyan shook his head and placed his index finger and thumb over his brows and rubbed. A headache was starting to form between his eyes and he was certain there wasn't much he could do to stop it. Instead, he refocused on the image in front of him. Scarlet eyes and a body that shifted and flickered like a shadow. It was definitely close to what he had seen, but this entry wasn't what he was looking for. It felt more sinister, determined even, to harm him...or Coral for that matter. He couldn't allow that.

"Could Gengar even do these kind of things?" They were called Ghost-type for a reason...and very little known was known about them in the first place. Cyan tucked away the pokédex in his pack, "Well...this is Lavender Town, isn't it?"

The place of the dead...

The tower was where he should go if he wanted more information: The Pokémon Tower. It hadn't changed much in the time that he'd been gone. It was still as tall and decrepit as ever. Only this time more people were teeming through the halls and darkened corridors. Gastly and other Pokémon wandered through the halls. As he ascended the spiraling staircases, the battles grew increasingly difficult along the way. It was only at the top that he'd realized how worn down Arcanine had become. The dog huffed and laid upon the tiled floor. Its tongue hung out of its mouth and lolled to the side as it panted.

He opened a bottle of water from his backpack and poured it into a makeshift bowl he'd brought along. Despite not having been in battle for some time, he still managed to remember most of his potions and healing items. Thankfully it didn't take long for Arcanine to be ready to go again. Cyan brushed his hands through its soft fur as thanks.

On the final floor a solitary man stood facing a tiny window near the top of the ten-foot ceiling. The outcropping was cut into a tiny square and only a small shimmer of light bled into the otherwise shadowed out tower.

"So you've come." The man stated cryptically, the straight line of his back still towards Cyan. The teen peered skeptically around. No one else was around. There weren't any mirrors or reflective surfaces that would expose his image to the person. Perhaps the man heard his footsteps and thought him to be someone else?

"How long has it been happening?" He noticed a withered hand gripping a black, wooden cane. The object was sleek in design—obviously crafted with expertise and likely a high budget as well. It was also then that he saw the tailored coattails of his jacket. They hung loosely behind his form. The fabric was clean, despite the must and dirt particles floating in the air around them.

The young man's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?" He couldn't play into someone else's mind games. He couldn't blindly trust anymore. Cyan slammed his eyes shut as the memory of weightlessness and sudden pain crashed into him. Not now. Not here. He chanted again. The images fell once more into the back of his mind.

"Don't be a fool, boy. People only come here for two things." He held up a pale, bony finger with a nail nearly as long as the joint to his knuckle. "The first is to battle. Which, given your Arcanine's condition, doesn't seem too far off." The barest hint of a smile ghosted across the stranger's thin lips. He held up a second finger, this time the nail was slightly longer than the first and curved inward slightly. "The second, and likely the very reason you've been clutching so desperately at that pack of yours, is because you have a question that can't be answered." A wry and cracked laugh spilled out of the man's throat. "It's not that simple is it? Not even the Pokédex has all the answers…. Does it?"

Cyan scowled. He hated being pinned in a corner like this. Right off the bat too! The teen sighed and silently approached the man.

"First, what's your name?" He questioned.

"Just call me Ghost. It suits me."

Cyan's scowl darkened into a glare. He dared not to approach closer than two steps away. He needed the room in case things got creepy. At least, creepier than they already were.

"Alright… Ghost," He hesitated to use the name. The man let a breath of a laugh through his pale, thin lips. "What can you tell me about ghost-type pokémon? Are they really just harmless pranksters?" The air grew thick as a fog rolled into the town. Only for a brief moment in the morning would the fog clear. However it'd return within an hour's time. In this case, it had just come back with a vengeance.

"Ah, I see." Ghost's finger tapped on his cane thoughtfully, "That's why there's been such a disturbance lately. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you and your family just moved into that old, abandoned house?"

Cyan swallowed thickly as bile rose up his throat. Great, just what he needed. A creepy man with unknown intentions knowing where he and his family lived. This was just turning out to be a wonderful experience. His eyes narrowed at the frail-appearing man. He was dreadfully thin. His arms and legs were barely the width of his own bicep—although that wasn't exactly saying much either. Cyan was no body builder. He was considered more lean and cut. Not muscular and bulky. Ghost titled his head to the side, revealing a long and curved nose. It was similar to the beak of a Murkrow. Always hooked downwards and too long for its own good.

"I'm sure you weren't made aware," The tapping grew louder, "However that house is what we shall call… haunted." The teen felt like calling him out on this particular observation. It was fairly certain that at least something was wrong with it if it'd been abandoned for so long. "Generally speaking, nothing terrible happened there. No one died in the home and no one went missing. However shortly after the first family moved away, something seemed to have moved in." Beneath a curtain of white hair, Ghost threw a guarded look his way. There was something in the expression that he was cautious to trust. "A few have tried to live in there, but all have left within a week. Every one of them claimed that something whispered to them at night. It beckoned them with promises of travel and grandeur. However they'd grow frightened and abandon the home long before the haunting could progress." The old man suddenly lifted his cane and slammed it into the tiled ground. Arcanine barked furiously at the sudden scare. Murkrows took off from their perches and circled the ceiling above.

"I wonder," Ghost paused, "What is it that caused you to come here? Has it already whispered to you as well?"

"It attacked me." Cyan responded coolly.

White colored brows disappeared into a matching set of bangs, "Truly?"

"Do I look like I'm lying?" He answered without much enthusiasm. He hated being here. He hated the memories that screamed at him in the middle of the night. He hated the feeling of guilt and helplessness this place caused. Most of all, he hated his own powerlessness.

Ghost's lips curved upwards, "No. You do not." Stepping back, the bird-like man gestured towards the tiny window above. "Come, have a look. Tell me what you see." The young man did as he was told, but not before throwing a wary glance in the other party's direction. The man took no offense as he removed his top-hat from his head and gave an apologetic bow. A crown of balding hair circled the circumference of his head. The skin came to a dull point at the top. A blemish marred the pale flesh there, almost like a dot upon a creature's fur.

Steeping up to the railing, the teen squinted against the light outside. There was nothing but fog and clouds. Not a bird or sound.

"Nothing. There's nothing there."

"Precisely," Ghost's smirk widened as he tugged on the black sleeve of his tailored jacket. "What you seek cannot be seen. What you fear cannot be fought. You must understand your enemy, then turn its weakness against itself."

"So…?" Cyan pressed further.

"The creature you're up against is a Gengar. I'd seen it many times myself. However," The old man's expression turned serious as the angles on his face became more pronounced. "I must warn you that it is not like the others. This one feeds off of negative energies. It wants you to suffer. It wants to harm, maim and even kill."

"But why? Why would it do that!?" The young man growled. His fisted balled at his side as a deep anger rose within. He wouldn't lose this fight. He wouldn't lose anyone else!

"Because," The tone shifted into a sing-song type of tune, "It desires a companion. In order for the dead to travel amongst its own kind, it must first seek the dead."

"But we're not dead!" Cyan countered.

"Not yet, but you will be if it's chosen you as its prey." Ghost leaned his face close to him, exposing a set of milky-pupiless eyes. The stench of mold and something rotting emanated from him. The teen fought to cover his nose. "You must run. Never return to that home if you wish to live." The talon of his nail scratched at the miniscule scar above Cyan's brow. "If you want to fight, then you must do as I tell you."

"What is that?" A dangerous curiosity filled the teen. He needed to know. What were they dealing with? How could he stop it? Most of all, how could he keep his family together?

"You mustn't let it take your soul. If you're desperate, you'll need to seal yourself into something. An object. Another person. It doesn't matter. So long as you've sealed it, it cannot harm you." The talon-like nail moved to where his heart was. "Take the blood that your enemy has drawn from you. Mark it upon the item you wish to seal yourself and be sure to perform this exact incantation."

"Mea factum est hoc malum." The claw drew away from his heart, "Do not forget dear child. Those words shall spare your soul."

Cyan blinked. Seal his soul? Incantation? Had he just walked into a dead end? The boy wanted to scream out his frustrations. Aquamarine eyes zeroed in on Ghost, only to find the spot now empty.

"Do not forget." The man's voice boomed from somewhere above. The murkrows cawed and heckled one another—nearly drowning out the sound. "It will spare your destiny." With that, all sound ceased.

The walk back to the house was made in silence. Gengar. It was a Gengar. That meant Arcanine could take it on, but the close proximity of the walls and the fire-type attacks would more likely burn the home down than defeat the ghost. He needed something solid.

Cyan placed his hand over the entrance's handle. The dusty and clouded glass of the door blocked his view of the foyer. His fingers trembled under the cool touch of the handle's metal. His soul. Incantation. Death. What did this mean? The auburn-haired male pushed open the door. Inside was just as dark as it'd been this morning. Hardly any light filtered down from the skylight.

Had it been cared for, he was certain this house would've been wonderful. The staircase spiraled elegantly from floor to floor. The bullhead of the bottom step was rounded and finished with a deep, reddish wood similar to that of a Cherry Oak. Many of the hallways were widely spaced. Their walls had been painted at one point, though some parts had started to peel away some time ago. The foyer led in three directions. To the left the 'living room' sat packed to the brim with boxes and only the couch and loveseat in their proper positions. Straight ahead was the informal dinning area that was adjacent to the kitchen. The kitchen itself was fairly small, so only one or two people could cook at a single time. Lastly, to the right, was a tiny room with a trap door. It was barely eight feet wide by eight feet long. He'd opened the door just once only to find a dark pit staring back at him. The realtor told them it was a working cellar with a washer and dryer. Both he and Coral adamantly refused to enter it.

Superstitious as he was, Cyan was also quite cautious to all things unknown. He glanced up towards the banister over his head. Tiny, black like claws scratched at the white-painted spindles. A high-pitched, inhuman giggle echoed from the ceiling. His hands clenched into fists. A scarlet line of blood trickled down between the spaces of his index and middle fingers. Screw this.

The teen left the home. He wandered down the westward path towards Saffron City. If he hurried, he could reach his destination and back home before his mother and sister returned home. The young man climbed atop Arcanine's back. It lowered its haunches, waiting for just the right moment when its trainer's grip was firm against its mane. Swiftly, it took off in a cloud of dust and grass. Colors and people whirled past them in a flash of light. Cyan blinked as his Pokémon slowed to a halt. People stared in wonder as he slipped his leg over Arcanine's back and jumped off.

It was one of the things this particular breed was known for—its amazing speed. Running up to 260 miles per hour, there was yet anything to compete against it. As such, Cyan knew he'd had more than enough time to find the one he sought.

"Think you can help me find Slate?" The boy directed his inquiry to the fire-dog. Slate had been a good friend of his that he'd met during his journey. Like all other children, at ten years old he'd left town with his starter and set off to capture every Pokémon. He'd crossed paths with many powerful trainers. Slate had been a diamond in the rough type of find. The boy had always been on the feminine side. He was short and as intimidating as a soaking wet Eevee. Slate was a soft-spoken type of person. He rarely talked but when he did, everyone listened. The boy was a certifiable genius and even more of an accomplished Pokémon master than Cyan had been back in his prime all those years ago. If anyone could give him information on how to handle this Gengar, it'd be him. No more ghostly figures. No more running around in the dark. And definitely no more of this 'seal your soul' crap that Murkrow-like freak talked about. He needed answered rooted in realty.

Arcanine snorted. The dog buried its nose to the ground and followed the scent of the one they were looking for. The search lasted a mere five minutes. He found his old friend casually eating at one of the more popular cafes of the town.

Slate was in short stature, barely coming above Cyan's own shoulders. The flaxen blonde hair atop his head was his most identifiable feature. However it wasn't the boy himself that drew people's attention to him—rather it was the Pokémon at his side that gathered the crowds and curious eyes.

"Come now, no need to be angry." Slate's soothing tone floated over the chorus of whispers and jeers. "Shall we order our food for home?"

A table turned over and glass shattered. Guttural cries of indignation followed afterwards.

"I'm sure he just bumped into you by accident." Something else smashed, "The poor man has already apologized to you." A window broke.

Cyan approached cautiously. Arcanine placed itself between him and the rampaging creature up ahead. People parted as he drew closer. As expected, the image of a Primeape throwing its arms wildly about met his eyes. A man just a few years older than himself cowered in one of the barred in corners of the outer patio. He held his arms over his face to protect himself from the flying shards of glass.

The dog by Cyan's side snorted. If ever there was a way to track his friend, then it was to follow the trail of destruction that his companion left in its wake.

"You've got to do something about that temper." The auburn haired teen chided lightly. He draped his arm over Arcanine's back and leaned against the towering Pokémon. "Can't go through life destroying everything that pisses you off."

Primeape paused its flurry of punches. Its wide eyes landed on the teen's relaxed posture. The crowd gasped in fear as it approached. The ape-like creature raised its fist. Instead of throwing a punch, the onlookers were greeted with the sight of Cyan bringing his own fist to lightly bump against the Pokémon's knuckles.

"Calmed down yet?"

It nodded its head vigorously.

"Good," The young man casually dropped a metallic ring in its hand. "I got that for you. Just don't tell Slate, he'll get mad at me." Cyan winked.

Said blond sighed, "You spoil Primeape too much."

"And you don't train him enough," The young man shot back. They shared a look of disdain. As quickly as it passed, their expressions softened and laughter erupted between them.

"So what brings you all the way here?" Slate asked politely as the small group left the café and its onlookers behind. "I didn't think you'd miss me that much, Cy."

Cyan shrugged, "Well I can't exactly say it's under good circumstances." He tucked his hand into his pocket. His index finger brushed against the die. It was still cold and seemingly heavier than ever before. The metal weighed down in the palm of his hand. It was nearly twice as heavy as when he picked it up yesterday. How odd.

Slate's dark colored eyes narrowed intuitively, "I take it the move hasn't gone over well?" His friend was only a couple of months younger than himself. However his face was still slightly rounded and gave off a vibe of youthfulness that others often mistook as naivety. At seventeen years old, people frequently thought him to be twelve or younger due to his appearance. So when the blond got serious, it often took people by surprise. Cyan had been no exception when they first met. Now, when those eyes sharpened in contrast to the cherub-like face, he felt no shock or disturbance in the contradiction.

"What do you know of ghost-types?" He jumped directly to the point. Admittedly his Pokédex held very little information. He'd caught a Gengar only once and released it to another trainer shortly thereafter. It'd been far too difficult for him to handle on his own. "Are there any specific moves that are super effective against them?" They stopped at the Pokémon Center at the southern most part of the city. The doors glided open with a silent 'swish'. The lobby was rather empty for this time of day. Only two small groups of people gathered at the center, already waiting to pick up their teams.

"As far as I know Psychic-types tend to deal the most damage." Slate commented. The boys walked to the back of the center where the cafeteria was. Each one had a facility specific to the sleeping and eating needs of the traveling trainers, but their sizes often varied. In Saffron, because it was a slightly larger city it remained well stocked and capable of fitting close to one hundred people. They pulled up their chairs and got comfortable. "I've heard of a Region not too far away from here, Johto, I think it's called. They're suggesting that a new type has been discovered there. They're calling it the Dark-type."

Auburn brows raised in curiosity, "Dark-type? I've never heard of it."

Slate nodded, "Yes. Apparently it's common over there. A researcher for Professor Oak had visited the Region not too long ago. He noted that the relationships between Pokémon were vastly different due to this newly discovered typing system." The young man withdrew his Pokédex and pulled up a new entry.

"Number 229, Houndoom." The robotic voice rattled off, "Upon hearing its eerie howls, other Pokémon get the shivers and head straight back to their nests."

Slate snapped the device closed, "Certain moves have also been reclassified as Dark. Bite and Crunch being only a couple." The blond pushed the digital encyclopedia towards him. "In this new typing set-up, Dark is super effective against Ghost. If you can find someone to teach Arcanine one of these moves, you'll have the upper hand."

Cyan opened up the entries and searched through them carefully, "I take it you've been to Johto?"

His friend nodded eagerly, "Of course! Ever since Red became the Champion, relations between Kanto and Johto took off. Mostly because he seems to have developed an interest in mining their mountains for specific stones." The young man rubbed the back of his head. "Although there's talk of Red being a little too interested in those stones. He's been on Mount Silver for a little while."

"I can't do much for you right now," Slate stated, pulling back the pokédex and putting it away in his pack. "However if you come back tomorrow I can have everything set up to teach your Arcanine the move Crunch. It's more effective than Bite and will put out whatever you've been dealing with."

Cyan smiled, "Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you." He roughly slapped his hand on his friend's shoulders, "You were always the reclusive, nerdy one."

The smaller boy pinned him with a sharp glare, "Who's reclusive?" It was a silent jab at his behavior as of late. Truthfully he hadn't been as social as he normally would have. It'd been close to two years since the incident. Perhaps it was time that he moved on?

They laughed together. Primeape slapped its fists as it made eager noises, gesturing towards the food piling up by the buffet table. It was apparently still hungry even after the incident at the café. His Arcanine simply stared at it with a casual interest. Its tail twitched in agitation but did nothing else.

The die in his pocket grew heavier yet. It weighed down on his leg and forced him to pause. The young man's eyes were drawn to the shape protruding from his jeans. He slipped his hand inside and grasped the object. If anyone would know about this thing, it'd be Slate. He plucked it from his pocket and set it upon the flat surface of the table.

"By the way," He grasped the stem between his finger and thumb, "You got any idea why this thing does this?" He twisted and released the die. It spiraled as it had before. It tilted and turned but did not fall. The twirling trinket danced close to the edge before bouncing back towards the center.

Slate's dark eyes narrowed as he observed it, "That is unusual. Typically one of these sides," His finger gestured towards the hexagonal body of the die, "Will tip to one side and cause the whole thing to fall. Even after tipping, it's still spinning. How curious…"

A slight smirk spread across Cyan's lips, "There you go again." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You've got that creepy look in your eyes. Are you thinking about melting it down or something?" This was, of course, Slate's own inherent flaw. His friend was a creature of science. He wanted to study all and know all. Knowledge would always be the foundation of his nature. Once a question was infused into his mind, he'd be consumed by it until he could find the most rational answer to it. This would be no different for him.

The blond pulled back, "You were well aware before even showing me." The boys shared a knowing look. "You just want me to study it, don't you?" The sound of the die's metallic tip grinding against the table's surface was the only noise between them.

Cyan raised his arms by his head, "Busted." He casually flicked the object. It tilted and turned, then straightened once more and wandered closer to Slate's awaiting hands. "Take it off of me. That damn thing creeps me out anyways."

"Sweet!" The blond cheered, snapping up the die in his palm before pocketing it. "Now that, that's out of the way let's eat!"

The meal passed far too quickly than Cyan would have liked. The teens shared in their recent adventures. There'd been much he'd missed out in the time he'd been gone. Had he really been that self-absorbed in the past few years?

"Thanks for coming out." The young man smiled, "I'll see you back here tomorrow." He held out a closed fist towards the blond, "Don't forget otherwise I'll have to kick your scrawny little ass."

Slate snorted, "As if you could." The two shared a brief smile. "Off you go!" The smaller boy teasingly waved his napkin at him.

Cyan shook his head and quickly mounted Arcanine's back. The trip back had gone even faster than the arrival. By now the edgings of nightfall were starting to spread its tendrils of darkness across the sky. He quickly ushered his Pokémon inside. It wouldn't be too much longer now before his family arrived. Perhaps only ten minutes or so. His mother was quite good at corralling his sibling into specific routines.

The door creaked behind him as he closed it. He really did hate this house. When his mother first brought him to see it, he'd pondered if it'd been declared inhabitable due to the deteriorating conditions in the home. This had been the only thing they could afford once their house went into foreclosure back in Fuchsia City. Once he stopped training, the extra cash flow he'd been sending back home to support his family ran dry. His parent couldn't afford all the bills on her own so they were left with only a single option—to move where they could afford to live. Thus Cyan found himself on the doorstep of an abandoned home that they'd bought on the cheap.

A great deal of renovation had already taken place—namely the replacing of the roofing, a fresh coat of paint on some of the downstairs rooms including the master bedroom, and refinishing of the wood in the dinning room area. Outside of that, the place was a complete mess.

Part of his responsibilities in this home was supposed to have been painting his room, Coral's room and the upstairs entertainment room. Although that just ended up being an alcove by the balcony with only a cut out in the wall big enough for a love seat. It wasn't so much an entertainment room as a place for a resting bench. Cyan adamantly refused to remain in the house alone after dark. Even before the previous day's incident with the die and Gengar. He never liked the heavy atmosphere, nor the dangers the decrepit floorboards presented. It was just so damn creepy in here.

The teen stopped. The sole of his shoes squealed against the old wood. A faint noise filtered through the house. Shadows lurked around him as his eyes darted from one hallway to the next. A haunting melody began to fill the home. Musical notes reminiscent of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" played in the background. However the sound was a bit off—almost as if the piano it was being played on was out of tune. The individual notes strung out a little longer than needed. A few sounded like the metallic string of the instrument had been pulled rather than the pressing of a key. A cold fear settled in his stomach. They didn't own any musical instruments, let alone a piano.

Cyan called Arcanine to his side. He moved to the over crowded living room and grasped one of the spare lanterns lying on its side by the couch. Quickly, he had his Pokémon light it. He placed one hand on the back of the tiger-dog's neck and raised the other to light his path. For better or for worse, he'd need to track this Gengar down and put a stop to this once and for all. He had been a trainer after all. This shouldn't be that far outside of his comfort zone. The auburn-haired teen wandered through the darkened halls. While the main areas remained well lit by the electricity, the shadows of night had already fallen on the upstairs. Darkness curled its tendrils eagerly around the banister and bullhead—ready to envelop them as well.

The young man followed the sounds. He turned to back to the foyer as the sounds grew louder. Much to the teen's terror, the music emanated from beneath the dreaded trapdoor of their basement. He pressed his lips together as the Pokémon snapped its fangs together in agitation. Gengar was down there. His hand trembled as his fingers grasped the cool metal of the iron ring bolted to the door. Arceus help him. He had to go in.

The wooden panel moaned loudly as he pulled the trap door open. The tiny staircase that descended into darkness was pretty eroded. A black fungus grew over the surface, making it slick beneath his feet. His mind supplied that it was likely black mold—having being provided the most opportune atmosphere to grow in this dimly lit and cool environment. It was simply just missing the humidity of summer for it to grow at its prime.

Cyan held one hand over his nose to prevent from breathing in the dangerous particles too much. The music began to crescendo as he reached the final step of the staircase. Arcanine padded behind him quietly. Its hackles raised and a low grow reverberated from the back of its throat. The teen lifted the lantern to survey the basement. As of now he was the first to brave this little hole in the ground. His mother hadn't seen a need to come in here yet. The electricity to the washer and dryer hadn't been restored at this point. Therefore they'd mostly gone to a local laundromat a few miles outside of Lavender Town to do their clothes.

His sneaker hit the uneven concrete flooring of the basement. Suddenly, the music stopped. Arcanine became quiet as only the sound of wood creaking and an eerie howl of the wind above could be heard. The young man trekked further into the room. It was fairly large, encompassing much of the size of the room above and the adjacent living room. He turned and found a tattered, earth colored curtain separating the open room from the other half. He uncovered his mouth and quickly pulled back at the rotten cloth. Dust flew into the air, settling into his lungs and causing him to cough violently. Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea.

The beginnings of a headache started to form between his eyes. He needed to hurry. The mold was likely starting to affect some of his systems already. He recovered his mouth with the palm of his hand. It wasn't much protection but still better than nothing at all. The dim light of the flame within the lantern spilled onto an object shrouded in darkness. It was disproportionate, bulky and seemingly erroneously wide for how low to the ground it was. He slowly approached. As the light began to bring the object into view, a cold feeling of dread settled into his stomach. On the ground was once a baby grand piano. The legs of the instrument had been ripped away—leaving uneven splinters where the wooden pegs should have been. The top cover of the strings was pulled as far open as possible. Some of the keys on the board were missing while others were pushed upwards at an unnatural level. He peered into the inner case of the object. Many of the strings were pulled almost too tight, while others fell loosely to the bottom of the sound board. It was impossible for this piano to be played properly.

A tiny laugh emanated from the opposite corner. Static once again corrupted the sound. Gengar was here. Instead of glistening fangs and shimmering scarlet eyes, Cyan found only shadows. A door above them slammed open.

"Cy! Are you here?" It was his mother.

The creature snickered once more before the heaviness of the air around them lightened. The darkness lifted somewhat and the teen knew that the creature was gone. At least for now. Arcanine pressed its head under his arm and quickly tried to usher him back towards the staircase. He didn't hesitate to follow its lead. Cyan waited until the tiger-dog stepped out from behind him to close the trap door. He released his hand from his mouth and shook his head. He needed a shower and a change of clothes at this point. His mother peered into the tiny room.

"Everything okay?" She inquired, concerned at the disheveled state of his clothes and likely the expression of fear still etched into his face.

The young man shook his head, "There's mold down there. We need to keep it sealed off for the time being." He quickly started to think of ways to explain away his appearance without lying. He still didn't want her to be concerned. He didn't come back here just to become a burden. He was going to fix this one way or another—without his family being put in danger's way. Of that he was determined to see through to the end. "I'll have to contact some of the renovation companies around here and see what they can do. The damage is pretty extensive."

Caramel colored hair blocked his view as his mother's arms wrapped themselves around him. Cyan closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered quietly, "This must be so hard on you. Especially after Blastoise…" Her voice trailed off.

His hand fisted at his side. Memories of his starter Pokémon filled his mind. He could recall so clearly how his Squirtle seemed less than enthused when he first took it home. It'd been a wily thing. It took around three months of extensive training and bonding with the turtle-like creature before it ever began to trust him. Then years afterwards before they'd developed a bond that would be considered unbreakable… until one fateful day.

The memory of a cave's open mouth and the eerie silence surrounding it filled his mind. That day had been so bright. It'd been so peaceful and quiet. Now, all he had left were the shattered memories of pain and loss. The teen gently pried his mother's arms from his body.

"I'm fine." His voice cracked. "I just need to focus on getting everything settled." That was a truth she couldn't quite comprehend yet. Maybe she never would. Aquamarine eyes narrowed as he exited the tiny room. The banister above was shrouded in shadows once more. Only the darkness did not shift. The unnerving sound of static didn't float down. Gengar was gone for the moment. He allowed himself to relax. Coral sat upon the couch. In her arms she held the star plush to her chest. She kicked her legs repeatedly as her azure eyes stared at something beyond the boarded windows on the far side of the living room.

"She's been like that all day. She won't respond to anything." His mother commented. Her brows creased into a concerned line. "It's just like back at Fuchsia City. She won't talk to me. Could you try?"

He nodded and stepped towards her. Arcanine remained by his parent's side and followed her to the kitchen. It likely didn't want to leave her unattended at the moment.

The couch sunk beneath his weight as he took a spot directly next to her. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"It came to me last night." Coral whispered quietly. Her eyes didn't move away from the wall. "It showed up in my dream." Her voice was soft and monotone. It was as if she was merely acting as a puppet for something else. The hairs on his neck stood on end. Her arms tightened around the plush. "It said that you wouldn't be able to escape." She blinked as her feet stopped kicking. "It also said that you weren't the first." The girl's voice dipped. "Then, it showed me something. It looked like you but different." Coral glanced towards him as her lips pulled into a deep line. "Your eyes were white and you were pale. It was scary." The girl looked away. "You weren't you. You were scary. It was also there, laughing."

Coral lifted of her arms and pulled at the outer flap of his vest, "You can't fight it." Her nails furrowed into the thick fabric. Fear poured out from the girl as she tried to reconcile her dream with this reality that they were living in. "You can't let it get you. Promise me!" This time tears started to well in her eyes.

Cyan placed a hand at the back of his sister's head and pulled her into his lap. The child began to cry. She sobbed heavily into his shirt.

"I promise I won't let it get us. Not you, me or mom." He held up his pinky in a familiar pose. He hooked the digit around her much smaller one, "I pinky promise."

Coral used the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. She pulled her own finger downwards to seal the promise. Once made, he couldn't break it. That was the one rule they abided by as siblings. Once a promise was made they couldn't go back. She glanced at her brother. She just had to believe in him.

The rest of the evening they'd spent playing on one of the old board games their father had stored away before he passed. It'd been a favorite of his. The rules to the game were still a bit murky so the siblings simply made their own and played that way. Night fell and the two glanced between each other. Cyan took his sister's hand and called Arcanine back to them. It was time for bed. His eyes narrowed as they approached the spiral staircase that led to the haunted floor where their rooms resided. If Gengar had appeared in Coral's dream while she was in the living room with him last night then she was likely to be in greater danger alone. He would have to sacrifice having his Pokémon with him for the night. Coral needed Arcanine more than he did.

They ascended slowly. The sound of their crowded footsteps echoed more loudly than he thought was possible. They crept through the darkness, with him leading the way. A feeling of heaviness permeated the air. It was as if the atmosphere had grown thick with fear. Whether it was his fear, Coral's or a combination of the two, he didn't know. The auburn-haired teen pushed the door to her room open. It creaked as the floor boards groaned in protest beneath his feet. The trio made their way in. He turned his back and waited as she prepared to sleep. When he heard the child climb into her bed, he faced her once more and commanded that Arcanine jump onto the bed with her.

The tiger-dog did as it was told. It laid at the foot of the bed as its eyes peered around, looking for any dangers present. Black-tipped ears tilted and turned, listening for anything out of place. With Arcanine by her side, Cyan knew that he wouldn't have to worry about Coral being attacked again. The teen sat beside her and gave his sister a warm hug.

"Get some rest, kid. Everything will be fine by morning."

She gave him a disbelieving stare but said nothing more on the matter. The girl wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Good night Cy. I love you."

He smiled at her, "Love you too, kid." With that, he left the room and returned to his own. The walk through the empty hallway was always an unsettling one. He could simply feel the eyes of that creature watching him. It was just waiting for him to set down his guard. His eyes hardened. That wouldn't happen. Not here. Not now. He wouldn't let it end like it did two years ago. He wasn't about to let his family become the victim of a tragedy.

The young man closed the door behind him. His room was more like an attic space. A wide outcropping had been carved into the eastern most facing wall—providing the space with a great amount of light in the mornings. The window had a small bay area bedded with torn up cloth and something molding. He hadn't yet had the chance to replace the fabric with something more suitable. The ceiling was two walls that came to an angular point at the center of the room. All the surfaces were wooden panels that were dark and rotted from the lack of maintenance the house sustained in its years of abandonment. The lantern on the cheap nightstand beside his bed was out. At the very least he'd remembered to store a few matches in the drawer in case he ever needed them. The light wouldn't last quite as long without Arcanine's help, but it'd be better than nothing.

He pulled open the drawer and took out the match. With a quick swipe of his hand, a tiny ember lit the end of the wooden stick. He stuck it within the lantern and watched intently as the wick took to the flame. Cyan blew out the matchstick before shutting the trap to the lantern. It was slightly brighter now—there was at least enough light for him to get dressed.

By the time he'd crawled into the uncomfortable mattress that was to be his bed, the moon had filled the night sky. The teen glanced between the lantern and the door. He was anxious. Still, he couldn't sleep with the light still on. It was more likely to cause a fire then keep the Gengar at bay. So with trembling hands and reluctance in his heart, he turned and twisted the knob to put out the light. In only seconds, the room once again fell into darkness. Moments afterwards, he did as well.

The sun was warm against his skin. Cyan pressed a hand above his eyes to view the cave that they were about to enter. It'd been blocked off for some time but he and Blastoise had accidentally stumbled upon a back entrance not guarded. The teen shrugged as he glanced to his eager Pokémon.

"Should we do it?" The young man questioned light heartedly.

Blastoise snorted, stepping forward and into the mouth of the cave. As expected everything was dark. The light that'd been so bright before could not breach the interior of the cave. Cyan shrugged and followed after his starter Pokémon. The overgrown turtle pushed through their obstacles with a breeze and an air of confidence.

"You might want to take it easy on them, you know." The teen teased Blastoise as it defeated another wild Pokémon. "It's rather cruel of you to one hit KO everything." It snorted at him in disagreement before locking its eyes onto a river.

"Stop!" Cyan tried to speak in his sleep. He wanted to end this nightmare. He didn't wish to go any further than it'd already progressed. He knew what lied ahead and he also knew how this memory would end. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

The water had been cold. It'd come up to his waist as the water-pokémon surfed through the rough waters. His body shivered as the two finally breached the land on the other side. The young man's body tensed as a feeling of something powerful ghosted across his skin. They weren't alone here. Blastoise was already aware of the situation and quickly went into battle mode. It pressed forward into a solitary cavern set towards the back of the cave. Eager, Cyan allowed the Pokémon to lead the way. He'd heard that a few of the legendaries preferred to hide away from civilization. Given how cold this cave was, he briefly wandered if it might be the mysterious Articuno hiding in the depths of that hollowed out cavern?

"Don't!" His throat burned as something akin to bile rose from his stomach. A sickening feeling hit him hard. He couldn't do this. Not again!

The auburn-haired teen sat stunned as he peered at the creature standing at the center of this empty area. It wasn't like anything he'd ever see before. Power flowed outwards from its human-like body—nearly leaving his limbs unable to move. Its flesh was pale save for its tail which was a dark, fleshy and translucent shade of violet. Veins seemed to protrude from the back of the creature's neck. However it wasn't the appearance of this Pokémon that shocked him. It was the sheer amount of animosity pouring out from it. This Pokémon hated him. He could just feel it.

"Blastoise!" Cyan commanded. The turtle charged and the battle began.

He jolted awake. Sweat soaked his back and forehead. His hands shook as nausea threatened to rise from his stomach. He hated this. He hated everything about this. This house. This town. His past. The grave he had to pass every time he wanted to move from one part of the city to the next. It was just a reminder of all the times he failed. Cyan buried his face into his hands and sobbed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stay here anymore. The teen paused as he heard footsteps running up and down the corridor outside. A chill of fear ran through his spine. Not again.

A splint of light carved a tiny crevice between the door and the rotted out floorboards. Cyan watched in fearful curiosity as a shadow flicked across the small line. How could it be bright? There was no electricity to speak of. The figure darted down the corridor towards the staircase then turned back and stopped in front of the door once more. The sounds of tiny feet carried through the house. The shadow loomed by the open space, blocking out nearly all of the hallway's light.

Something snickered. The sound was altered, as if being filtered through a radio. It crackled and was hard to understand. No gender could be distinctly identified either—it was simply... inhuman.

"Who's there?" The young man managed to ask through chattering teeth. It became difficult to tell whether it was the cool chill of December or his own fright that caused the shivers to run down his spine.

"Who's there?" That same, disembodied tone responded. "Who's there?" It repeated. Cyan's gaze was drawn to the door as something long, sharp and perhaps metallic scraped along the fragile grain of the wood.

"I'm here." It was closer now. The shadow disappeared from the light.

The teen froze as another, stronger chill went down his spine. A brush of freezing air barely ghosted across the back of his neck. He wasn't alone.

"What do you want?" Cyan swallowed thickly. Sweat beaded his upper brow as his heart raced. This was it, wasn't it?

"Want! Want!"

There was another snicker. This time it was by the window. He hesitated to look.

"Want... I want..."

Moonlight spilled into the darkened room from the glass. The young man slowly turned his head to survey his surroundings.

"I want..." Shadows flickered and danced oddly in the night. He could no longer see what was real and what was his imagination.

"You... I want..."

Cyan's heart stopped. By the window, the figure stood. It was slightly rounded with short arms and legs. However that wasn't what terrified him. It was the gleaming, scarlet eyes settling upon his vulnerable form that left the young man on edge. With his companion in the other room, he knew he was in trouble.

"Fun... Come!" This time it managed to sound more human. There was less static in its voice. Still, there was an edge to the tone that left an eerie feeling of lurking danger. This creature couldn't be trusted.

"No." Cyan answered simply, "I won't." His fingers flexed as they grasped one of the pokéballs on his nightstand. "I want you to leave."

Its eyes narrowed and white, pearlescent fangs shimmered in the moonlight.

"No choice..." The claws at its side curled and unfurled threateningly, "You have... No choice."

Cyan activated the object quietly. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. There'd only be one chance to do this right.

"Are you sure?"

It snickered almost maniacally.

"Sure! Sure!"

The moment the ghostly figured closed its eyes, Cyan made his move. He quickly tossed the pokéball at the shadow. It was sealed within the contraption in an instant. As soon as it hit the floor, it began to shake violently. The pokéball wouldn't hold for much longer. He'd need to make this quick.

Throwing back the sheets, Cyan darted across the room and flung open his door. As soon as it was wedged open, the ball burst and the shadow shot out into the darkness.

It screeched its disdain, swiping its claws towards his exposed back. He slammed the door shut before it could reach him. The teen rushed down the hall. He didn't have to look back to hear the footsteps of the creature following him.

"Arcanine!" He called frantically. "Now!" Halfway down to his sibling's room, her door burst open in a plume of flames.

The tiger-dog stood to its full height in the corridor. Embers spilled from its mouth as its eyes locked onto the Pokémon chasing him. The footsteps stopped as his Arcanine advanced on them. This was it!

"Do it!"

Cyan dove to the side as another large ball of flames barreled past him towards the ghostly figure. It sank into the floor. Hisses and shrieks filled the home over the roar of the fire.

"Get you!" It cried in its inhuman voice. "I'll get you!"

The pokémon's shrill screaming ceased as the fires ebbed away. Cyan sucked a deep, shuddering breath between clenched teeth. He was safe... for now. The teen brought his hand up to smooth the fur over the top of Arcanine's head.

"Thanks."

They made their way downstairs. Most of the fire was out but black cinders marred the walls and floors of the corridor. He'd have to clean tomorrow but for tonight they were safe. The teen perched himself upon the haggard old couch in their "living room". Really it was just a hodge-podge of furniture with no real direction at this point. A loveseat was pushed against the window, the couch sat by itself in the middle as boxes surrounded the matching ottoman meant to be used as footrest.

His pokémon opened its jaws and let loose a loud, gaping yawn. White fangs glimmered in the darkness. For as gentle as Arcanine usually was, he certainly didn't take too kindly to threats. A smile touched the teen's lips. He'd have no need to worry while he was with his companion. Cyan curled up on the couch. Although it was cold, there weren't any spare blankets around. So he simply had his pokémon lay beside him. He was pretzeled into the interior part of the sofa, but it was definitely warmer than it was before with Arcanine by his side. The fire-dog placed its head over his ear, ensuring to keep a close eye on him.

Aquamarine eyes closed. He'd deal with the rest in the morning.

His team had been battered. Blastoise laid limp across the rocky floor. The rest of his Pokémon had already been returned to the safety of their pokéballs. Only his starter remained. The creature they were fighting settled a fierce glare onto him. Its eyes began to glow white before he felt his body be lifted in the air.

Blastoise snapped to attention. It struggled to stand. With movements quicker than he could see, the turtle had thrown itself behind him and created a wall between his body and the impossibly hard surface of the rock around them. Cyan cringed as he felt himself slam against Blastoise's stomach. The edge of his pokémon's claw accidentally cut into the brow of his eye. Blood slowly trickled down over his face and past his chin. Three drops silently fell onto the earth below his hands and feet. The teen shook as he tried to stand. They couldn't fight this thing. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before!

"We need to leave!" He commanded to his Pokémon. The water-type turtle glanced towards him. It could barely lift itself, let alone walk. They were in a precarious situation. Still, they needed to do whatever they could to survive. This wasn't just a regular battle. This was a fight of life or death, and he was damn sure not going to let them die out here. Not like this.

Cyan pushed his head under Blastoise's scaled arm. He wrapped one arm around the appendage while using the other to try to stabilize the rest of his exhausted Pokémon. They needed to flee. He wasn't strong but he'd do what he could to get Blastoise moving again. The teen's back screamed in protest as the weight of the giant turtle became impossibly heavy upon him. Sweat beaded his brow. They just needed to escape it. That was all.

Unfortunately that was not what the creature had in store for them. Once more, the young felt himself and Blastoise be lifted into the air by some unseen force. He knew they were going to be thrown. The teen locked his arms around his Pokémon's thick, guarded neck. No matter what, he wouldn't let them be separated. It was the only thing he could. He squeezed his eyes shut as the feeling of weightlessness hit him and the world flew past them. This was it.

Their bodies slammed into the river beyond the cavern. The surface broke like concrete, assuredly breaking a few of his bones in the process. Cyan cried out as his felt himself begin to sink in the raging waters. It was cold. He was in pain. Nothing would move right. Darkness filled his mind as despair took hold. They were going to die here. The world faded as the water took him below its raging surface. How could he have been so stupid?

'It's my fault.'

Cyan woke to find himself alone. Covers had been pulled up to his neck and his body felt oddly stiff. The bile rose at the back of his throat once more. His fingers flexed subconsciously. How many times would he relive that moment? How many times could he revisit that same mistaken before breaking completely? The teen blinked back tears. He tried to refocus on his surroundings to prevent the sorrow from overtaking his conscious thought.

When had he returned? He rubbed his eyes and quickly surveyed his surroundings. Arcanine was nowhere to be seen. The house was quiet. Only the sound of wind howling and beating against the tattered wooden shutters could be heard.

He placed his feet on the floor. Everything was cold again. The December chill had once more seeped itself into the confines of this home. Wrapping the covers around his shoulders, Cyan wandered into the hallway. All the wood, all the decorations and even the flooring remained untouched by the flames that'd consumed it the night previous. It was as if it had never happened in the first place.

"What the hell?" He uttered beneath his breath. How could this have happened? Could it all have just been a dream?

Something skittered behind him, followed by incoherent whispers. A chill ran down the young man's spine. No, it wasn't a dream. Something else was going on here, but what?

"Come out!" Cyan bellowed loudly, "I know it's you Gengar!" He threw the blanket from his shoulders onto the ground. The sounds ceased entirely. No wind. No whispers. Not even the creaking of the abandoned home. There was just the solitude of emptiness. He closed his eyes once more. For the first time since that day in the cave, he wished for a happy end. He wished for all of this to cease. He wished for peace in his household. Most of all, he wished to see his Pokémon once more.

"Last time." An all too familiar voice cackled in his ear. It was somewhat clearer now. Only it had a slight flicker of static and an edge of a sound that resembled something masculine. The world suddenly began to spin. He held his hands over his head.

"Stop." The teen gasped. The speed increased and a needle like pain ebbed from between his eyes. "Stop!" He cried again, only this time the needlepoint becoming more prominent. "Stop!" Cyan bellowed into the emptiness. And so it did.

When he woke he found himself at the entrance of the cave. Blastoise laid motionless next to him. Water still soaked its shell and face. The pokémon's eyes were closed as a pale sheen over took its features.

"Blastoise?" Cyan inquired. He stretched a trembling hand towards his starter. It didn't budge. The teen gently shook the giant turtle. "Blastoise!" He tried again. Still, there was nothing. It was then that he realized something. Blastoise wasn't just motionless. It wasn't breathing.

"No! No!" The young man shook his head as he cradled the pokémon's head in his arms. "You can't do this! Don't you dare!" He tried to wake it once more. "Come on! Wake up!" Horror dawned him the longer his pokemon didn't move. It wasn't fainted. Blastoise was dead.

He cried out to the monochrome sky above.

"No! Please, don't go!" The teen cried. He buried his face into his hands. "You can't just die! Blastoise!"

He shook his head and sobbed, "It's my fault. It's all my fault. I did this."

The young man stood and backed away slowly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tears coursed down his face onto the grassy earth. How could he have done this? Cyan's heart clenched painfully. What kind of trainer was he to let his Pokémon die? He cried so loudly he was certain that the creature within would soon attempt to hunt him down once more.

He'd failed himself. He failed his team. But mostly, he failed Blastoise.

"Never again." The teen swore to himself. He would never train another Pokémon again. He didn't deserve their loyalty.

"Cyan!" He heard his mother screamed hysterically, "Cyan!"

Someone shook his shoulders frantically.

"Wake up, baby!"

He took a deep breath and awoke once more—hoping that the world he was entering was no longer the nightmarish terrors that were his dreams. The teen sat up on his forearms. His body felt weak and mouth dry. Had he been sick?

"Thank goodness!" His mother wrapped her arms around his neck, "You're finally awake!" Cyan blinked in confusion. What did she mean by 'finally'? Coral was at the foot of his bed. Her eyes were red and puffy as she sniffed. It looked as if she'd been crying for a few hours now.

"Baby, you were out for three days." He felt his mother brush her hand through his sweat soaked bangs. "You were crying the whole time. We couldn't wake you up. You just kept crying and screaming that you were sorry." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled the teen close to her. "I never should have brought us here. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how much this would have affected you." At the same time he felt Coral wrap her own tiny little arms around his stomach. Before he realized it, tears were already flowing down his cheeks and onto the back of his clenched hands. He bowed his head. He tried to be strong. He tried to protect his family. In the end, he was always just becoming a burden on everyone.

First he got his Blastoise killed. Then he just wallowed in his own self despair for two years—doing nothing as his sister was bullied relentlessly for her 'failure of a brother'. His mother had to fight to keep them supported the entire time. What had he done for them? What could he possibly do to make up for all the wrongs he'd committed? Cyan's teeth clenched. He was useless. He was worthless. Most of all, he was incapable of protecting anyone, let alone himself.

"We have to leave." He started although his voice was rough from disuse. "This place…" He had to stop as his voice went hoarse. The teen was handed a glass of water by his mother. She listened sympathetically as the boy tried to put his warning into words. "… it's not right. You've felt it, haven't you?" He lifted his eyes to stare up at his parent. She seemed taken aback for just a brief moment.

"I…" She looked as if she wanted to say something. Then a guarded look passed through her features. "We'll leave in the morning. For now get some rest. The doctor will be here shortly." Cyan didn't feel comfortable staying another night. Yet he knew that his body was still too weak to move. They didn't have much of a choice. He nodded at her.

Their mother placed a gentle kiss above each of their brows before leaving the room. The door clicked behind her as the sound of her footsteps descended the staircase.

As soon as the sounds faded, the teen set to work on searching for a paper and something to write with. He couldn't do this on his own, but he knew something that would be able to help them.

"What are you doing?" Coral inquired as she hugged her star plush to her chest. Its wide-oogly eyes stared at him eerily as he continued his quest.

"I need to write a letter to someone. They can help us." He tore apart his dresser. It wasn't until he reached the final drawer that he found what he was seeking. Opening the pad he quickly set to work. It was last ditch effort, but it'd be worth it. If only to help prevent others from being haunted the way they had been. Someone had to deal with Gengar. He just knew that he wasn't strong enough for it… yet.

His sister watched as he wrote one of the most desperate letters he knew he'd ever pen. He felt pathetic, weak. He felt useless but he knew that this was for the best. It'd be years before he'd be capable of taking care of Gengar on his own. So for now he'd reach out to the only person capable of taking on such a dangerous creature. The only person known to have stopped the monstrosity that had killed Blastoise. The only person who'd single handedly broke apart one of the most dangerous gangs in the Kanto region. Their current champion and one of his previous rivals: Red.

Once finished he neatly folded it and handed the letter to Coral.

"Listen to me closely." Cyan started, "I don't have any bird Pokémon that can deliver that message anymore. A regular Pidgey won't cut it either." He grasped both of her shoulders and forced the girl to look up at him. "There's only one person that can deliver that message. In order to get it to him I need you to do something." The child paled as her azure eyes widened. "Take Arcanine. Ride upon his back to Saffron City. There you'll find an old friend of mine. His name is Slate. Arcanine can find him if you command it to."

The teen watched as she stuttered and shook her head.

"I know you're scared but you're ten now. You're just a few weeks shy of starting your adventure on your own." A light smile touched his lips. "You can do this. I know you can. Just think of it as a road trip. Trust in Arcanine and you'll do just fine."

"I can't!" Coral shook her head violently. "I'm scared! You'll be here by yourself and…" She trialed off and squeezed her eyes shut. "No!"

"Just have faith in yourself and Arcanine. That's all you need to do." Cyan gave her a quick hug. "I'll be fine."

Reluctantly the girl shook her head but did not go against her brother's wishes. If he felt that he needed help from someone else, who was she to deny that help? The girl gathered her courage as she faced the tiger-dog. It lowered on its haunches to let the girl climb upon its back.

"Keep her safe." The teen stated simply. Arcanine pierced him with a determined stare. Once Coral was settled securely upon its back, it began to make its way downstairs. Despite its speed, it was likely that it'd be a few hours before they'd return. He needed a plan of defense. He was too weak to do much other than walk between rooms and even that movement was severely limited. He heard the front door open and close. His sister was gone. Cyan let loose a small sigh of relief. If their mother hadn't heard that then she was likely in her room resting or on the phone. He supposed the latter to be more precise.

Slate would take the note seriously. In fact he'd be the only one capable of delivering it at this point. None of his contacts knew of Red's whereabouts or even how to find him. Yet the blonde had already sniffed out a location in which he was most likely to be at. Not to mention he was vaguely familiar with the Region where their Champion was now residing. If anyone could get Red to return, it'd be Slate.

His head snapped up as the door to his room creaked open and heavy footsteps thudded against the aged floorboards. The morning's light gleaned into the triangular shaped room. He'd gotten so accustomed to Gengar attacking at night. He'd never anticipated that it'd strike so soon!

The auburn-haired male swallowed thickly. He wasn't ready. He had nothing to fight with.

"Ready…?" The same devious voice from a few nights before stated simply as if not expecting any resistance. It was just as distorted as the last time he heard it—only now the voice seemed more masculine than previously. It was a slightly deeper baritone, giving way to the sex of the entity.

"Go fuck yourself."

It laughed, the sound moving from one side of the room to the other then back again—giving the impression that it was everywhere around him. Cyan bit his bottom lip fretfully. What could he do? What could he use? His eyes searched frantically. Clothes were strewn about lazily. His lantern was still an entire arm stretch away that would leave him unbalanced. He blinked as he realized that the pen was still in his hand. Gengar was a ghost type Pokémon. There was no guarantee that a physical attack would work. The young man paused as he noticed a canister of hairspray resting upon his dresser. He hadn't known when it got there. Perhaps his mother had brought it in during the time he was stuck in his three-day coma? Still, that would be his ticket to fighting this thing.

Thinking quickly, Cyan threw the covers from his body. He snatched the last match upon his nightstand before rushing to the hairspray. He struck the match against the dresser and watched as the tiny ember lit up. The boy waited until he felt the chill of Gengar's rancid breath across the back of his neck. He swiftly turned and pressed his finger on the trigger of the spray. The chemical blasted the ghost in the face—along with the once tiny flame that grew and exploded into a small ball of fire. It screeched in pain.

Cyan fled down the corridor and descended the spiral staircase. They couldn't wait anymore. They had to leave now! Despite how his body swayed and the pain the disuse had caused him, he pressed forward.

"Mom!" He called out. There was no answer. He rushed towards her room across from the kitchen. The boy stopped as he noticed the claw marks etched into the once white-painted door. They were old. Thin lines of dark colored blood were coated in the crevices. These scratches weren't made by Gengar. They created by the nails of another human. Fear settled into his stomach. How long had it been there? Cautiously, he pressed his forearm against the door. It was slightly ajar, revealing only a sliver of the darkness that laid beyond. He pushed it inward. The smell of something rotting hit his nose.

Cyan was forced to clamp his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting. It was so overpowering and wretched, how could they have missed it? He flicked on the light. It was one of the only rooms he was able to do so. What the light revealed left him wishing he'd never come here in the first place. Only the furniture that'd been moved in by the moving crew had made it into the room. The bed, dresser and nightstands sat in their proper places. However plastic was still wrapped around the floor and tape covered the baseboards and windows. It was as if time had stood still in this room.

It was then that his eyes drifted to the dark lump at the center of their mother's bed. Rotted and decaying flesh laid upon the covers, untouched and undiscovered for many days. By the looks of the body, it seemed to have been there for weeks possibly. He didn't have to look at the ring on its finger or spy the silver Pidgey pendant upon its neck to know that the body belonged to his mother. She'd been long dead and they had never known.

Could Gengar truly possess the ability to take on the form of someone like that? He was forced to believe that to be the case. That was the only thing that could explain this predicament. The teen shook violently as the fear and disgust filled him. All those shows of affection it'd given them. All the times that thing hugged him. It was never their mother. It was just Gengar. How sickening! This time he did throw up. His stomach convulsed as he felt his body repel what little was left in his stomach. He couldn't take this anymore. He needed to escape.

Cyan braced himself. The match in his hand had gone out during the time he'd fled downstairs. At the very least he still had the hairspray. He stared at it in disdain. Gengar really had gone out of its way to appear just like their mother. It'd even adopted human hygienic habits just to maintain that visage. For what purpose? The teen shivered. Coral. Of course! It had to keep up the image it'd projected with her around. It'd only been targeting him these past few days. So it was likely that it had to keep up the role of being their 'mother' while she was still around. He gnashed his teeth together in his fury. That little fucker was going to pay for what it did to their family! He was tired of running away. He was tired of passing on the fight to someone else. He was going to destroy this bastard once and for all.

"You piece of shit!" Cyan screamed, feeling as if his sanity were slowly draining away. "How long were you going to keep doing this?" He slammed his fist into the fragile wooden panels of the wall. It caved and cracked, bursting apart at the forceful contact. "You want to play? You want to see what you've created?" He kicked another hole into the same wall. This was all useless. He knew that but the fury within him wouldn't die. He just continued to lash out, hoping that something was bound to affect the being haunting and hunting them.

"Coward!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. The teen grabbed a toppled lamp sitting in the corner. He smashed it against the opposite wall this time and listened as the bulb shattered. The sound was satisfying in a way that nearly surprised him. "You fucking coward! You couldn't even face me head on!" He threw the metallic object across the room. It slammed against the window, shattering the glass into thousands of shards. If the neighbors didn't know something was going on, they did now.

As the teen rampaged he couldn't help but feel as if he'd gone crazy. He couldn't stop himself. He could see himself doing these things but it was almost as if he were watching through a screen. He couldn't stop. He could only observe.

The violence only subsided when the boy felt a cool wind rise from his feet. Dust circled around his ankles as the draft gently flowed around him in a cyclic motion. It was here. He squared his shoulders. He didn't have to turn around to know what was behind him.

"Fun!" He heard Gengar's voice repeat in his mother's tone. His fists clenched as blood trickled between the spaces of his fingers. Even now it'd adopt that form, just to torment him. "It was so much fun!" The sentences were better put together. Perhaps in this more human-like image it was possible to communicate without giving away its identity.

Metallic nails scraped against the wood grain of the walls. He peered over his shoulder to see his mother's stolen image standing oddly at the threshold of the room. The creature stretched one of its arms upwards and hung onto the top of the open door. The other scraped across the broken panels and only stopped once it got his attention. Now that it'd been figured out, the projection of his mother's face became twisted. The complexion grew pale and the nails elongated into claws. Sharp fang-like teeth glistened in the fluorescent light of the bulbs still capable of working. However it was her eyes that changed the most. Once soft and welcoming, they were how hard, malicious and scarlet in color. This had never been their mother. I'd only been a rag that Gengar cast over itself to look like her.

"You never knew!" It laughed in her voice, "She will never know! She's next!"

The gurgle that bubbled at the back of her mouth was unnatural. The imposter took both of its hands and grasped at her jaw. With one hand she started to pull at the top part of her mouth and the other she tugged at her lower jaw. Sickening cracks of what sounded like bones breaking and snapping beneath an impossible amount of weight echoed in the otherwise empty house. It pulled back the flesh of its disguise like a cloth. The colors of flesh and clothing blended together before disappearing into a hazy smoke. Where his mother's imposter once stood, now was the fully revealed form of Gengar.

"How are you capable of doing this?" Cyan's voice was oddly calm for how he truly felt. He was furious. He was terrified. Yet his voice did not tremble and shake the way he thought it should. His only conclusion was that shock had taken hold of his thought processes.

"We all can…" It started in that baritone from before. The thin veil of static was nearly gone from its voice now, as if it'd somehow gotten stronger in the short time that'd passed. "Only I achieved it though." Those inhuman, demonic eyes narrowed as it mouth split into a wide and feral grin. "You lost."

"You've lost all."

His back stiffened. He knew exactly what that meant. Blastoise. His mother. Now himself and possibly his sister. If Gengar succeeded, he'd have nothing left. Not even his soul.

"Not yet." The young man snarled. He lifted the spray once more. It wouldn't do much but as with all creatures, Gengar had eyes and eyes were prone to weakness. He ensured to aim directly at his target before pressing the trigger once more. The chemical sprayed across the short distance that separated them and into the exposed eyes of his enemy. It let out a pained snarl and threw itself from side to side. Its body was incapable of bending like a human's. So it threw its clawed digits over face and tried to tear the chemical from its searing flesh. Cyan ran as fast as he could. He needed fire. He needed something to destroy this thing! A box of matches rested on the kitchen table. It had presumably been left there by his sister. Should he run away? Should he find help? Or should he try to reignite the match and burn the little shit to a pile of smoking cinders for all things it'd done?

For so long he'd been helpless. For two years he'd caved to depression and despaired. He didn't fight to save his family from imploding in on itself. He didn't fight to save his Blastoise from the death that lurked within the darkened mouth of the Cerulean Cave. Could he really walk away from here knowing he'd done nothing at all to fight? The auburn-haired teen ground his teeth together. He was through running away. He'd fight even if it killed him. He had to. Otherwise it'd just hunt down Coral. She'd be returning to this place unsuspecting. He had to stop Gengar on his own. For her sake.

He grasped the box. There was a small stack still left untouched. Good, that meant that he could use the attack a few times in a row. Only question now was did he have enough spray to completely destroy the creature? A blast of wind billowed through the home. Cyan knew that he didn't have much time to think it over. He quickly struck one and prepared the canister for the attack.

There was no rush of shadows or screeches that followed the blast of wind. There were no noises to indicate that anything was inside of the home with him. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own, obnoxiously loud breathing. He couldn't calm down. He couldn't stop his mind from racing and picturing all of the worst ways this showdown could end. Still, his rage and courage were the only things keeping his body moving.

He wouldn't have the strength to move for much longer. The three days spent in a coma left him unusually weak. He'd need to spare his strength in this last fight and only use it when necessary. He couldn't run unless it was life or death. Besides, even if he left the house Gengar possessed the ability to follow. It wasn't as it were some sort of specter attached to the land. It'd already proved that it could leave the house and pose as their mother even to the unsuspecting like Mr. Fuji. The man had seen it in disguise and still treated the imposter as if it were his mother. Which meant that the visage wasn't just a trick of his mind. The image was a physical manifestation capable of coming and going as it pleased. That was the only way it could have appeared that morning a top the banister and then reappearing as their mother at Mr. Fuji's when they'd arrived. This creature was somehow able to bend time and space itself to cause all of the harm that it did. That thought terrified him.

Despite that fear, he pressed forward. The sound of the piano began to flow once more. It was down in the basement. Cyan swallowed thickly. Of course it'd want finish this battle there. Away from prying eyes and completely sealed in the shadows beneath the earth. The teen stopped as something fell from the top banister onto the first floor. It thudded against the wood harshly but by the sound of it, wasn't too heavy of an object. It almost seemed soft by the muffled echo it made. He slowly crept away from the kitchen and back towards the stairs. At the center of the foyer was the doll his sister had accidentally left behind. Its scarlet smile was still grinning wide and oogly eyes stared at him. It was then that his mind recalled the conversation he had with the person named 'Ghost'.

You mustn't let it take your soul. If you're desperate, you'll need to seal yourself into something. An object. Another person. It doesn't matter. So long as you've sealed it, it cannot harm you.

He tucked the spray beneath his arm as he reached for the doll. It stared at him lifelessly. It would be a last resort, he promised himself. He didn't want to believe such a thing were possible. But perhaps it was. Maybe 'Ghost' was right on this topic. If it were true then the only thing he'd be doing is saving his own soul—no sparing Coral from any sort of pain or torment. He quickly switched the hairspray with the doll. It'd be the last option he'd use. Until that moment where he could no longer fight, he wouldn't use it.

The music was calm—not at all representative of the situation at hand. He approached the trap door hidden away in the tiny room. A draft gently blew from below. Gengar was waiting. Cyan cried out in pain as something slashed at his back. Blood seeped through his shirt and onto the ground. The young man reached around to feel the newly formed gash in his flesh. He cringed. He hadn't anticipated such a fierce opening blow. With his hand still bloodied, he flung open the trap door and tried to descend.

Cyan tumbled as claws tore at his back. His arms and elbows ground against the harsh brick of the basement's walls. Splintered wood shredded what was left of his shirt as he rolled down to the bottom of the step. The hairspray rolled away and the matchbox fell beneath the open gap under the stairs. That horrific, maniacal cackle resounded again. His eyes turned upwards as he tried to glare upon the creature that'd done this to him. That bastard would pay! Even if he had to use his own soul to curse it.

"You won't win!" Blood trickled from his mouth as he tried to crawl away towards the washing machine. There had to be something he could use! He wouldn't die here cowering in fear!

"Win! Won!" The ghostly creature chanted, "Won… I did!"

The door to the upper floor slammed shut. Darkness enveloped the tiny room. Cyan's breath turned heavy as the air turned to ice. A puff of air left his lips with each breath he took. He closed his eyes and counted.

One

The room grew still. The laughter ceased and the world grew even darker.

Two

The monster he now knew as Gengar traced its claws along the back of his neck. A trail of three, scarlet lines tore open at the contact. The teen clenched his teeth and held back a snarl of pain. This wasn't over. Not yet. He didn't have fire. He didn't have Arcanine. He didn't even have a baseball bat to swing at the little specter from hell. However he did have one thing.

In his fingers he held Coral's doll. Even during the fall he'd managed to hold onto it. This was a shot in the dark at best, but one that just might work.

Three

"Done!" It laughed, "It's done!" The pinprick of fangs clamping down on the side of his neck made him flinch. "You will be me." A fire burned at the flesh where its fangs connected to him. "I will be you."

"Go to hell." Cyan growled. He tore himself and part of the flesh at his neck away from the beast. He wiped his hand along the wound, dying his fingers scarlet. This wound alone would kill him in a matter of minutes. He needed to work swiftly. Quickly, he brought the plush back and smeared the thick coat of his blood over the doll's mouth—tracing the thin red line there. This would be the only way he could win. He might not live, but he wouldn't become its play thing. Not now. Not ever!

Gengar screeched, "No! Fool!" It drove its claws into his chest, impaling his heart. "Fool! Fool! Fool!"

In the short time of living in this house Cyan had grown tired of darkness. He was tired of the moonless nights and starless skies. He grew weary of the fear and terror that he experienced night after night in this hell hole. As he glanced at the ceiling, he could see the tiny, pinprick of light above. Someone was home. Fear struck his heart. They needed to leave! They were in danger. The young man opened his mouth to cry out to them. However he felt his voice drain away and fangs clamp down on his throat. A hot, searing pain made its way through his body. In the end, he still failed to save even his own life. The light bled to darkness as the world around him faded away. This was the end.

---

An officer held his flashlight up by his head. His footsteps were slow and measured. The house was eerily quiet as the hackles on his Growlithe's back rose. His tongue nervously shot out and wet down his lips. He'd been called to this location after reports of screaming and windows breaking came in from the neighbors. They'd grown concerned since they'd seen the youngest child leave the home earlier but the mother and oldest son, Cyan as the reports stated, had not been spotted since the screaming began. They feared that the family might be under attack and chose to contact authorities rather than enter the home on their own. Hearing the overwhelming silence now, the officer began to wonder if perhaps he was already too late.

Wind blew through the open doorway. A small trail of blood dragged from the tiny room's entrance to the basement's trap door. A bloody handprint stained the metal handle of the contraption.

"Go." He commanded his Growlithe. It circled the door, sniffing around the ground. It briefly pawed at the wood. The barrier groaned in protest but did not budge. The officer silently kneeled and pried open the door. Darkness stared back at him. As expected the light was off here too. The whole house seemed to have been plunged in these never ending shadows. How could anyone possibly have lived here?

"Find him."

The dog shot into the basement without hesitation. Its claws clanked noisily against the concrete surface of the room below. Seconds later, it gave a signaling bark.

The officer swiftly, yet carefully, descended the steps into what he would later dub 'the nightmare'. Blood collected in thick, uneven pools by the bottom of the steps and again closer to the washing machine. The man drew his eyes up to the shadowed out figure across the room.

"Hands where I can see them!" The officer demanded.

The person didn't speak. Instead its arms and legs twisted oddly; moving into directions not naturally possible.

He moved the flashlight to bathe the image in light. What he saw could never be unseen. At the center of the shallow basement a teenager stood. He presumed it to be the oldest son that the caller had informed him of. But something was off. The veins of his neck appeared thicker than normal. The blood in his veins looked nearly black, making the boy seem almost sickly.

The spider veins spread up the neck and over the line of his jaw. A few strands even went so far as to reach the outer edges of the teen's eyes.

"Cyan?" The man inquired. The person's limbs were in their proper place now, but the shadow behind him moved violently. "Are you Cyan?" He pressed again.

Black vein-covered eye lids opened slowly. A wide, pearlescent smirk spread across the boy's lips.

"Not anymore." The voice was deep. It came in filtered as if through a radio; crackling and becoming nearly incoherent.

It was then that the officer took notice of his eyes. They were completely white. The irises had been completely clouded over. Miniscule tendrils of black blood spread through the whiteness of those eyes—clouding out the person's ability to see.

"Cyan… is dead."

He withdrew his firearm and took aim.

"Identify yourself!" The man commanded. His Growlithe backed closer to him as it raised its hackles at the unknown person.

"Cyan is dead." The inhuman creature teased. "You failed. He failed. You're all failures."

The officer opened fire. The first bullet cracked and landed between the person's eyes. His head snapped backwards. The body stilled but did not fall. Hands hung limply behind the body. Then he heard the sickening sound of something fleshy being torn. The hair on the back of the man's neck rose. This was no ordinary intruder. He didn't even think they were human.

The teen's head slowly titled back into its proper place. The bullet hole was still present however the metallic head of the bullet promptly fell harmlessly to the concrete below with a soft 'chink'.

"Goodbye." It said calmly.

"Bite!" The officer commanded his Growlithe. It quickly darted forward and sunk its teeth into the young man's leg. The thing let out a blaring screech—a mixture of a young boy's voice crying out in pain and something made up of static and deep, like a full grown man's baritone.

The shadows shifted violently. The tiger-striped dog drew back out of instinct. The officer trained his gun on the offender once more. What the hell was going on here?

"Put your hands in the air!" He tried to command the strange creature. Instead it pulled back its lips into a deep snarl. Milky eyes pinned him with a sharp stare.

"You'll be next."

With that, the darkness came to life. The stretched from the ground, steadily encompassing what used to be Cyan's body in its smoke-like tendrils. The officer watched in stunned horror until the shadows veiled even the white of the teen's eyes.

"You'll be sorry." That voice of both human and monster warned. Then a gust of wind rushed past as the darkness fell upon itself like the wave of an ocean. As soon as it had vanished, the lights flicked on and the room lit up to reveal the horrors that had occurred in this room.

The officer stumbled backwards as his Growlithe circled around in confusion and whined fearfully. He reached over to his radio and pressed the ridged button to communicate with his fellow colleagues.

"Get back up to the old house on Lavender Street. This…" His voice shook as he tried to place what he'd just witness into words. "… This is a damn nightmare." His gaze took in the black mold growing along the walls and the scarlet of blood pooled and splattered everywhere. If there was a hell in this world then this was it.

---

The mist was as thick as he remembered it being all those years ago. The young man silently walked through the emptied streets of the fog-shrouded town. Even in May there was a chill in the air. He pressed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. His Pikachu poked its head out from his hood where it had chosen to rest due to the cool temperatures.

It perked its ears and watched intently as a vague outline of a child formed in the distance. He patted its head reassuringly. The electric-mouse emerged from its hiding space completely and perched itself upon his shoulders. It tilted its head and made a noise of confusion.

As the duo approached, they noticed that the child was alone. She was only dressed in simple jeans and a light, pink jacket. The young man stopped as he came to her side. She didn't acknowledge him with a glance. Instead the girl hugged a plush closer to her chest.

"They're gone now." The voice was empty and lifeless—as if all the hope had been stolen away. "There's no coming back."

He watched in pity as the child's azure eyes dulled. It was only then that he'd noticed the Squirtle tugging at her pant legs. It let loose a cry of concern. The Pokémon grasped the fabric of her jeans between its beak-like mouth and gave a gentle tug—as if trying to encourage her to leave the harsh cold of this town.

"You're Red." The girl commented rather than questioned. "You were the one my brother wrote all those months ago." Her face bowed and shadows blocked her expression from view. "By the time I got back, there were already police here. It was taped off. I couldn't…." Her voice went hoarse. She swallowed as if holding back her tears.

His heart clenched at the sight. What could he do? Once he received that letter he rushed here as quickly as he could. He had wanted to help out. Still, by the time he arrived the whole house had been barricaded off by police officers and yellow crime tape. No one was allowed to enter the property. Not even the champion of Kanto. So he left and waited until the headlines of the crime faded from media attention. A full five months later and only now was he able to investigate the horror of what happened in the house on Lavender Street.

He presumed that this girl was the only surviving member of the family that used to live here. Her name was Coral if he remembered the headlines correctly. She was now eleven and had started her adventure only recently. There were rumors floating around that a few of the child's relatives would be relocating to Johto and taking her with them there. If it were true then this was likely her goodbye to the only place she had left to call home.

Pikachu's ears drooped as he heard the other Pokémon cry for its trainer's despair. Coral wrapped her arms around the tiny turtle and held back her tears. She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not now.

Red gently placed a hand on her shoulder. As quickly as he'd done it, the young man dropped his hand and moved towards the decrepit home. A feeling of something heavy settled in his stomach. It was dread. His Pikachu growled in fear. As expected, something evil seemed to emanate from the home.

He pushed the door open without care to who would hear. The first thing he noticed was the black fungus growing over all of the walls. With no one allowed to return to it in such a long amount of time, the mold had overtaken all of the walls that it could. The dark haired male narrowed his eyes as the beginnings of a headache formed between his eyes. He pulled his pack from behind him and unzipped the top. He stuck his hand inside the bag and quickly withdrew a paper mask. He'd been through a few areas not safe to breathe when he went searching for precious stones before. He'd made a habit of carrying these masks with them as a precaution. Red slipped the object over his head and placed it squarely over his nose and mouth. Although a bit big, he managed to secure one around Pikachu's mouth as well. He'd rather not take any health risks while performing the investigation.

Black splotches of blood still stained the floor in the room to the right. A dark handprint smeared the metal ring of the handle to the trap door. The young man wasted no time in following the trail of certain horror. Calmly, he lifted the door to reveal a set of stairs descending into a mold-blackened basement. The electric-mouse on his shoulder perked its ears forward as its growl lowered into a threatening snarl. Red reached into the outer pouch of his backpack and withdrew a flashlight. A quick press of the button and the darkness below was lit by its powerful light. He continued downwards. Each step he took caused the stairs to creak and moan beneath his weight. He turned his light towards the center of the basement. Where one of the officer's claimed to have saw Cyan's possessed body a hat now laid bare on the cool concrete floor. It was near pristine save for a thin layer of dust covering it. There was no mold or tears on its fabric.

Red approached and plucked the object from the ground. It was a deep shade of blue with a white front and stitching. The name 'Cyan' had been sewn into the interior of the hate in near child-like handwriting. His heart clenched again. The girl must have done that for her brother. He tucked it safely into his bag. There was no use in leaving it here. Not when there were better places it could be. Sparks suddenly began to fly from the red-rimmed circles of Pikachu's cheeks. Its body tenses as it took an offensive position. He redirected his light to see what his Pokémon was growling at.

Within the darkness a man dressed in a hand tailored coat with milky eyes appeared. The young man's eyes narrowed as his lips thinned into a deep line. Pikachu leap from his shoulder and stepped in front of him protectively. Its ears were back as electricity surrounded its small body.

"Ah, you must be the revered Champion." The thin man began. His nose was abnormally long and hooked downwards like a Murkrow's. Red was immediately suspicious about this person. He'd expected a few creeps to be lurking around the home due to the nature of the tragedy. However this man didn't seem to fit any of those expectations. He seemed far more unnatural than the typical sleazebag attracted to death and horror.

The stranger gave a low, mockingly polite bow.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ghost."

The young man quirked a brow at the proclamation. Perhaps he was wrong. This man wasn't unnatural. He was just crazy.

"Come now boy, don't be so doubtful." A small smirk pulled at age withered lips. "I've come here to bring you a message. Don't you wish to hear it?" Red scrutinized the odd looking man. Message? From who? Why? He didn't guess as to why he was trying to reach him in particular. He was a fairly popular person for people to go to when they had issues. Being a Champion simply catapulted his identity into the televisions of the masses. It wasn't as if his face and name weren't household images anyways.

He snapped his index finger and thumb together, signaling to the Pokémon to back off a little bit. Pikachu abided by his wishes but not before throwing a small volt of electricity towards the newcomer.

"Very good, lad!" Fake praise spilled from the man's mouth so easily. "I knew you'd listen." He tapped his cane noisily against the cracked and crumbling concrete foundation. "Firstly, what do you think occurred in this home? Do you believe that the boy here simply went crazy and killed his own family?" There was a glint in those milky eyes that left Red wary of his intentions. "Or do you think that something sinister made its home in these walls?" He emphasized his point by lightly slapping his palm against the moldy surfaces surrounded them.

"Ah yes, forgive my rude manners." Ghost turned his head away from him. "I tend to forget a few simple things every now and then."

The young man could spy a sly smirk spreading across the decrepit face of the man before him.

"I always forget about things that matter in your civilized society. Particularly little details like the fact that you can't speak."

The hair on the back of Red's neck stood on end as his breath caught in his throat.

"You see, many suggest that you might have suffered a psychological trauma in your childhood that left you unable to speak." Ghost's coattails fluttered noiselessly behind him as he began to pace around the darkened basement. "Others seem to think that you dislike humanity altogether and not only refuse to communicate with the outside world, but then sealed yourself away atop the summit of Mount Silver in the Johto region to escape your sad little life."

"Oh how interesting that would be, correct dear boy?" Ghost turned to face him fully. The lines of his face instantly became more angular as the stench of something rancid and rotting permeated from his sickly thin frame. "Alas, the real world is far less intriguing. In fact you were never able to talk. Not since the moment you were born and probably not until the day you die." The temperature dropped several degrees as Red leveled his gaze with this mysterious person. Only a handful of people were aware of the real reason why he didn't speak. How did this person find out?

"Born a mute. Die a mute. How fitting." Ghost spun his cane in the palm of his hand. "The real question here is will you remain voiceless even on a tragedy as horrific as this?" The tip of the wooden object pointed towards the pool of black, long since coagulated blood staining the floor by the broken washing machine. "The boy of this house sought help. He knew something evil had awakened in this home." The gravelly voice dropped into something more serious than the mocking banter that was used before to taunt him.

"That…" He placed the cane back onto the floor, "Was his final battle. The boy lacked the strength to fight. He had the will but not the stamina to keep up." Ghost paced towards the stairs. He tilted his chin and glanced up at the open trap door above their heads. "Do you think that boy didn't fear for his life and for his family's lives?" The wind picked up outside and a low howl rumbled through the otherwise abandoned house. "How powerful do you think his opponent must have been to subdue and then possess him the way it did?"

Red quirked a brow at that question. Most of his words had been rambling sentences without much sense to them. Although he did agree on one thing. Cyan and Coral's mother had not been killed by the teen. He'd met the boy on a few occasions during his travels. The impression he had during their battles together was not one of cowardice or mental instability. Rather, he held a fiery will and determination that could not be broken by any stinging defeat. That boy was made of something stronger than the investigators claimed. He wouldn't have done this. That was why he needed to know. He needed to know the truth of what happened here.

Pikachu's growls lowered as it registered its trainer's change in behavior. He was no longer on edge but curious. So the mouse-like creature pulled closer to its companion and further away from the mysterious being currently in their presence.

"Ah yes, so you're getting it now." Ghost resumed his ramblings. "That's right the event here wasn't orchestrated by anything you simple humans can comprehend." He spun on the heel of his foot towards the washing machine. The heels of his well-worn loafers clicked against the hard floor. "It was merely the symptom of a calamity just beyond your imagination."

Red folded his arms across his chest in disbelief. Calamity? Symptom? What was this guy even talking about?

"This boy wasn't the first victim of such a catastrophe." Ghost's expression darkened as something akin to rage flashed in those milky white eyes. "Thousands suffered before him and thousands more will face the same fate. All those connected to the afflicted eventually find themselves at the end of an untimely demise."

Pikachu jumped onto his shoulder suddenly. It gave a low growl as it nuzzled its cheek closer to him. Something had startled it. He gave the tiny creature a reassuring pat on its head without taking his eyes off of Ghost.

"Those aware of it simply call it The Curse." The wind's low howl seemed to cease along with the rest of the world. "When a person dies a tragic or horrifying death, the negative emotions their souls leave behind can manifest themselves in many different ways. A few documented sources claim that they can become Pokémon." The pale, nearly translucent figure of the man started to pace in a circle once more. "Others, less proven facets of science and investigation, have claimed that these negative emotions, or negative energies as some like to call them, can create what's known as a 'curse'. These are a physical materialization of the emotions one felt at the time of their death."

"They don't target based on any specific quality a person has. They simply exist and are passed on by a variety of means." He held up a small coin that seemed to have been created hundreds of years ago based on the rough inscription engraved into its side. "This for example, could easily become the conduit of a curse if it was held by the victim at the time of their death and, later, the manifestation of their negative emotions into a physical form. That new form would not be able to sustain itself for long without a conduit. So it attaches itself to whatever it can as soon as it develops. A coin. A doll. Even a die."

The white haired man cocked his head to the side to glance over at him, "These are all things that can become a vessel for the curse." He flipped the coin. It landed noisily onto the concrete flooring beneath their feet. The head of the object faced upwards. "Anyone who comes into extended contact with the conduit then becomes the target for the curse. That is how this occurred." He gestured widely to the scene of despair that laid before them.

"Knowing all of this, do you think your badges will help you stop it?" Ghost's baritone lowered. This was not a taunt. It was something much more than that. "With all of your accomplishments and trophies, do you think you can defy fate itself and save those who've helped you?"

His heart nearly stopped at that last line.

"Oh, you didn't know? Allow me to reiterate this point." Something groaned from upstairs. Whether it was the house or a part of his imagination trying to play tricks on his mind, Red didn't know. "If you want to save the life of someone you care about then you must track down the source of the curse. Find the one in possession of it and destroy the conduit before it can do more harm."

The teen's mind was reeling. Conduits? Curses? Untimely and gruesome deaths? This couldn't really be true, could it?

"At this rate I'll give it another day or so before a body is found. You best hurry Champion. Lives are counting on you."

Just like that the man known only as Ghost faded into the darkness of the basement. Instead of fleeing, Red chose to investigate the home more thoroughly. He wasn't convinced by the Murkrow-like man's ramblings about curses but that didn't mean he wouldn't find a clue hidden in the rubble of this horrible place. The dark-haired teen scoured through everything that he could. Pikachu helped by upturning every rock and digging into every crevice for anything they could use. Still, the only thing the two managed to find was the cap from before. All other items were covered in dust, mold and were generally broken.

In the end Red couldn't find anything of use.

So he left nearly empty handed. What little light pierced the thick fog earlier in the day was slowly seeping below the horizon—darkening the skies and cloaking the town in a feeling of eerie foreboding. The young man shook his head. This hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. Dark eyes widened as he glanced towards the street. Still standing as motionless as before, the girl waited silently by the mailbox of the house. Her Squirtle hadn't left her side and merely glanced between her broken expression and his carefully stoic visage. It had to be nearly freezing temperatures by now and yet here she was, standing alone in the cold waiting for something that would never happen. His heart made a familiar clench. He was always just a little too late to stop these kinds of things.

As Red approached her, he carefully pulled off his paper mask and reached into his pack. It wouldn't be much but perhaps it'd give this child enough peace to put her brother's memory to rest.

Coral stared emotionlessly as her brother's old rival made his way towards her. It was cold here. Lonely too. Yet she couldn't seem to wander away from this place. As much as she tried to convince herself to walk away, her legs always brought her back to this terrible house. As she met Red's gaze, she found empathy staring back at her. There wasn't a shred of pity. Tears began to well in her eyes. The girl bit into her bottom lip. She couldn't keep crying. It wouldn't do any of them any good. Both Cyan and their mother were dead. Her nightmare had come to fruition. There wasn't anything they could do about it now.

The Kanto Champion took the navy and white cap from his bag and presented it to the child. She blinked at him as recognition lit up her eyes. Her chin quivered as more tears threatened to fall. Seeing that she was near a breakdown, Red took the hat and gently placed it over her head. He made sure that it was on securely before giving her a gentle pat on the top of her brother's hat.

A choked sob tore from her throat. Without a thought he pulled the girl into a hug and allowed her to cry. This was a tragedy that'd been publicized to the entire world due to its horrifically violent nature and mystery. The media likely hadn't been kind to her. Holding back her hurt was the only thing she probably knew to keep herself safe from the public's scornful eyes. He'd been there a few times. He knew what it was like to be thrown into that kind of limelight. So he wouldn't let her hold back now. He'd made the mistake of waiting until he couldn't keep the pain at bay anymore. That would stop now for this girl.

Coral cried. She barely recognized the sound of her voice from the deep, mournful sobs. It felt so surreal yet at the same time so relieving. Her tears stopped after the sun bled away into a still, cold night. She stepped away from the teen and nodded at him in thanks. She used the back of her hands to wipe her tears away. The heaviness that weighed her chest lifted slightly. Her family wouldn't come back but now she could at least carry her brother's memory with her. Tiny hands grasped the well-worn bill of the cap and tugged it downwards over her face. She would always have a part of him with her wherever she went now.

"Coral!" A voice boomed from the fog, "Are you out here?"

The child sniffed, "I'm coming." The figure of a woman obscured by the mist was outlined by a few of the dimly lit street lamps.

"Come now, you'll catch a cold if you stay." The girl nodded and ran towards the unknown person. Red watched curiously as they held their hand out to her. Given Coral's familiarity with this person, he presumed it to be one of the family members mentioned by the articles in the newspapers he'd read.

The young man tipped his own hat and covered his face. The two turned their backs to one another as they continued on in their paths. His eyes narrowed as he thought over what Ghost had said before. A body would be found within a few days time. Someone dear to him would die. He needed to investigate more. He needed to learn the truth behind this "Curse".

Darkness fell over the town as the two left the bricked walls of its perimeters. It'd be years before either would return.

---

Pokémon Sun

Pokédex Entry No. 094

Gengar: Should you feel yourself attacked by a sudden chill, it is evidence of an approaching Gengar. There is no escaping it. Give up.

A/n: Now to answer a few questions that many are probably asking. The first, what exactly happened to Blastoise? The first thing of note is that Cyan and Blastoise had accidentally wandered into a back entrance of the Cerulean Cave. It is there that they came across Mewtwo which attacked them so violently. The inspiration from this event came from Episode 4 of Pokémon Origins that depicted Mewtwo as excessively violent in the way it fought Blue. After Cyan had been thrown into the river, Blastoise used its remaining strength to carry them to safety. It'd used so much energery and power that after making it outside of the cave, Blastoise passed away.

The second question, when did the mother die? This one is a bit harder to answer. The real time line is somewhere between the purchase of the home and the second day of being moved in. Realistically, it probably occurred a few days prior to the actual move in date. Gengar was able to use the move "Dream Eater" in order to absorb the dreams and memories of its victims. This gave it power and the ability to imitate her form without full possession of her body. Think of it like a projection. The more Gengar knows about its target, the more capable it is of copying that image onto itself.

A third, and mostly related question, how did they not smell the body? The answer here as much simpler. Like with other Pokémon Gengar can use the move Hypnosis. Not only that but Mega-Gengar is described as having the ability to move between dimensions and other worlds. So this could be a combination of the use of Hypnosis and this inter-dimensional crossing to create a specific view within Coral's and Cyan's own minds of the house. It'd likely be able to block their ability to detect the smell if, for one reason or another, it's able to prevent them from wandering over to that side of the house. Which was why the scratches were never detected either. It's something of a combination between a dream state and consciousness that they were plunged into to uphold this 'image' of everything being normal between the family when it was, as later shown, clearly not.

If you have any more questions you can always drop a review or a private message!

Goodness this took me something close to two months to write in full. X.X would you believe me if I told you that this was merely the first story of a 10+ chapter Anthology? Lol well good news is that I've been planning this for quite some time as a "test run" so to speak to see how I'll do on writing something closer to a full length story rather that one shots. One of my greatest weaknesses is actually focusing on an idea and not seeing it through to the end.

I get what I like to call "rainy seasons" and "drought seasons" when it comes to inspiration. Only problem with "rainy seasons" isn't that it's just limited to current sets of ideas. It also brings with it a torrential down-pouring of multiple thoughts and ideas that I can't quite seem to keep up with.

Whereas when a "drought season" hits me, even the things I want to write and try to put on paper always come out as 'subpar' no matter how much I edit and try. Thus I tend to write on the tail end of my "rainy seasons" as to keep myself from starting more fics than I can handle and attempt to redirect my thought processes back onto previous stories. I've had the most success with Kazoku (which I am currently working on, just revising a few of my ideas before continuing it), Broken Stone (Chapter 10 currently in progress), and Wish Upon a Star (Which is going through its planning stages for the new chapter). Everything else I'm trying to update in between without reusing previous ideas as those tend to sneak in every once in a while.

So this is my official "test run" to see how I'll do creating characters of my own and then placing them into a familiar universe while tweaking the plot enough to virtually be taken as its own story. At this time I don't really plan on taking this particular idea to a full length novel as much of the plot points will revolve around the Pokedex entries from Sun and Moon. That's actually what inspired this whole idea in the first place. If anything I'll simply push a previous idea I'd had a while back into the deeper planning and universe background exploration stage until I can get a grasp on how to maintain interest and writing, even during the "drought seasons" of inspiration.

What do you guys think? I'd love to hear some of your theories and thoughts on this story. While quite a bit was revealed in the final section of this story, there's still much to be divulged and many more secrets lying in each new update. I look forward to hearing what you all have to say! Thanks so much for reading until the end, I know it can't have been easy lol. I'll just say this one more time though, you guys rock!