#092 Gastly

Gastly, the gas Pokémon. Gastly is largely composed of gaseous matter. When exposed to a strong wind, the gaseous body quickly dwindles away. It can envelop an opponent of any size and cause suffocation. Its poison, in this state, is too weak and diluted to kill. Groups of this Pokémon cluster under the eaves of houses to escape the ravages of wind – Nurse Evergreen

Leaving Vermillion after submitting her report on underwater treatment and Cloyster, Nurse Isabelle rode on Ponyta through the grass. All around her, Pidgey flew up startled and Rattata scattered away. Every day since capture, Ponyta had grown stronger from the young foal she had been when Isabelle caught her. If Izzy had known the Ponyta she caught was this young, she would have chosen another one, but that didn't matter now. The fiery steed with the blue mane had matured nicely. She was still skittish around new Pokémon and in new situations, but that occurred less and less often. Today, she seemed to be having fun, darting around the grass, stepping around the fleeing critters but never on top of them.

Suddenly, Ponyta went from full gallop into an emergency stop, digging her hooves into the dirt of the road they were on. Unprepared for this sudden stop, Isabelle was launched from the saddle and landed with a curse that would have earned her a proper scolding from her mother. Neighing fearfully, Ponyta took a couple steps before rearing. Izzy rolled away just in time to avoid a kick from the hind legs. Because her horse was mad with fear, Isabelle withdrew Ponyta using her Pokéball. When everything was silent, the nurse sighed in relief, standing off and trying to brush the dirt off her stained, white trousers.

"Are you alright, darling?" A voice sounded from her right. Isabelle wasn't sure how she had overlooked it, but a lady sat on a fallen tree trunk. She could almost have sworn the lady wasn't there before. The woman seemed unremarkable with her hair in a bun, a faded, purple dress, and a Pokéball on her lap. It was just her sudden appearance that made her unsure. Only then did she register she had been asked a question.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. This happens from time to time. I wonder what spooked her so, though." Isabelle smiled kindly at the lady, hoping she would not be challenged to a battle.

"I believe I know what spooked the horse. Gastly, kindly show yourself."

"Gastly!" The ghost appeared next to the lady, grinning mischievously at the young nurse.

"Ah, that makes sense. A ghost type. Mind if I join you on that log? My body is a tad sore from falling." Isabelle asked.

"Not at all, dear. Not at all." The lady's voice was calm and inflectionless, despite the serene smile on her face. Izzy couldn't bear to look too long at her, without feeling a chill run up her spine. So she focussed on checking her laces and inspecting her bruises. With a soft groan, Izzy sat on the log, which was actually not comfortable at all.

"So, ma'am. May I ask why you have a Gastly? They're not the easiest Pokémon to handle."

The lady laughed, though there was no warmth or amusement in the sound. "I'm quite aware. Gastly and I have been friends for a long time. You see, I am a medium. I help people cope with the concept of death. Gastly helps me with that."

"Gastly helps? Can he enter the realm of the dead?" Isabelle asked, intrigued. She had heard about this before, but since it was not scientifically proven, it was written off as mere rumours.

"Almost, dearie. Gastly channels the spirits of the dead so people can ask them some last questions or solve unfinished business."

Isabelle nodded, suddenly uncomfortable. "I see…"

"Do you have anyone you wish to speak?"

The image of her father, smiling at her, flashed across her mind, but Izzy shook her head. "No, thank you. I prefer to let them rest."

"Wise decision, girl, because people rarely get to hear what they want to hear."

After those words, the lady stood up, bid her a good day, and walked away, in the direction Isabelle had come. Izzy remained sitting for a while, entirely stuck in a vortex of feelings. That night, she called her mother, to reminisce about the dead. With a heartbroken sigh, her mother informed her that due to lack of leads, the case had been closed She cried until she slept that night, with old wounds torn open.