Spooooooky, ain't it? Heh.

Pokémon isn't mine. If it was, then why would I put this on a FAN fiction site?

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I opened my eyes… I think. That is, the darkness that was there when I blinked was vanished. I no longer had eyelids to close, or even eyes.

And yet I saw.

I looked around, trying to get a handle on where I was… ah. Right Pinwheel Forest. This was where I died.

…am I dead now? I didn't seem to be in pain.

I tried to stand up, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I could. Hooray! Arms! Legs! Oh, how I'd missed you!

Strange. I seemed taller that I remember. And lighter.

I felt a pit of dread in my gut. I raised a hand to within my line of sight.

There was nothing but bone.

"Huh." My voice sounded strange. All airy and… clacky. And there was a rattle every time I moved.

I felt inexplicably happy for some reason. Why not? I was already grinning, ha.

I took a second to remember how to walk and tried leaving the woods.

After a while I began to notice that the woods were unnaturally silent, but I wasn't doing anything.

As a ghost, I have all sorts of crazy powers. I can deaden sound, drive away Pokémon, and instill a sense of foreboding in other creatures.

Still, it was creepy when it wasn't me. I noticed that there were some Pokémon watching me. A Swadloon was gazing at me with a strange look on its face. I raised a bony arm to wave, and it gave a yelp and fell over backwards.

That was disheartening. I need clothes. Something to cover myself, aside form these tattered pants. How did the pants survive if the shoes didn't?

Now, where was the one place in Unova that would react the best if a skeleton walked around looking for a tailor?

…

…

…

…hmm. Nope. Nothing.

"What's this?" There was a flier tacked to a tree on the edge of the forest. "Hmm… a haunted house, eh? How… convenient."

I exited the woods and stopped. There was a massive bridge across the water to Castel Town.

No. Not Castel Town anymore. If I remember right, it was called Castelia City now.

How depressing.

I his behind a tree. There were cars, much sleeker than the ones I remembered, running across the bridge, and on a second level there was a lot of foot traffic. No way I'm getting across that way.

I looked at the water. I wonder if I still need to breathe?

Apparently not. I climbed up onto the dock and froze. There was a dark-skinned youth in baggy clothing watching me. He didn't seem too scared, or even surprised. Odd.

I climbed up and walked over to him. "Er…"

"Yo."

"Yo?"

"What's with you, man? It Halloween already?"

"No…"

"Then what's with the hologram?"

"What is a hologram?"

He laughed as if I'd told a great joke. He stuck his hand out, and it passed right between my ribs.

His face changed from joking to horrified. "Y-you're a r-r-real-"

"Do you have any spare clothes?"

He stopped, thrown by what I'd said. "What?"

"Clearly I can't run around like this. I need something to cover up."

He frowned. "You're not going to eat my flesh?"

I paused. "Why would I eat your flesh? What good would it do me? I'm lcking the organs needed for that. Besides, do I look like a zombie to you? I'm a bit lacking in rotting skin."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "How'd you get all… like that?"

"I died. After running from the reaper for about thirty years, I came back."

He nodded, still a little shocked.

"You seem to be taking this remarkably well."

He shrugged. "You don't know the kind of crazy things that've been going on."

I tilted my head. "Crazier than a walking skeleton?"

He shrugged again. "What was it you needed? Clothes?" I nodded.

He looked side to side, then beckoned me to follow him. He led me through a few back alleys until we arrived at a shifty-looking thrift store.

(I probably should have said earlier, but it took me a while to get across the water, what with the climbing, and the water resistance, and there was also that territorial school of Sharpedo, but that's not important. For whatever reason it was dark now, so the streets were almost empty.)

"If anyone can handle this, this is him."

"Thank you. What is your name?"

He hesitated, then offered his hand. "I'm Mickey."

I took the hand and shook. "Xavier."

He cringed at the feel of bone, but grinned. "I'm always at the pier. You ever need something, you know where to find me." He waved and walked back the way he came.

I turned to the run-down shop. I thought I recognized it, but everything was so different… I sighed and walked in, noticing that I had to duck slightly. I was taller, for some reason.

The clerk was a hefty man with a thick beard and a pith helmet. He stood unusually straight, as though he typically carried something heavy.

He was reading a magazine as I walked in, only looking up when I rang the bell on the counter.

He stared at me for a second, looking me up and down, then turned and pulled a cord behind him. Thick blinds fell over the windows, blocking what little light had been pouring in.

He stood and popped his back. "Norm'ly, I'd say we're closed, but this is an clearly an unnormal case. What can I do ya fer, bones?"

I shuddered at the name. "Please do not call me that. I am Xavier, and I am in need of clothes."

He rubbed his chin. "Clothes, eh? Something to cover yerself from reg'lar people?"

I nodded.

"Well, fer a skelton like yerself, I'd say we have three options. We can give ya a wire frame and a big leather jacket, makin' it look like ye got nig muscles, then set yer skull on fire."

I did shook my head. I noticed that there was a strange blue glow in the darkness.

"No, 'course not… well, then, we can go with the dapper, an' give ya a nice black suit, mebbe a top hat."

I tilted my head, considering this.

"Or we can give ya like a British travlin cloak, that'll cover ya up real good." To demonstrate he showed me a picture that looked rather like Sherlock Holmes.

"It doesn't have to be plaid, does it?"

"No, 'course not."

"Then I'd like the third option, sir."

"Got money?"

Ah. Money. I should have considered this before now. I fished in my pockets, hoping that if my pants had survived, maybe my wallet had too.

My wallet was still intact, but the paper money had long since disintegrated. There were a few coins, though.

Hesitant, I dropped the coins on the counter. To my surprise, the clerk examined them carefully. He brushed aside the smaller coins, focusing on a large gold one. He picked it up and peered at it. "Yep, this'll do."

"Really?"

He looked at me, amused. "How long you been dead, skelton?"

"Uh… thirty years."

He nodded. "This here dollar coin's been out of commission fer two decades. Worth a lot to c'lectors. Let's get ya set up."

An hour later I was staring at a mirror. First, I figured out that blue glow from earlier was the light cast by my eye sockets. They had small, shining pinpoints of blue light that moved as if they were pupils. I experimented, finding that if I closed one eye, the light dimmed to a dull glow. Fascinating.

Moving on, The clerk fitted me with black pants, a white long-sleeved shirt with a dark grey vest, shiny black dress shoes, and (at my request) a top hat. I wore over this a black overcoat with a matching shoulder cape. Finally, there were the black gloves stuffe with tissue to fill them out, and a gray scarf wrapped around my head to hide the skull, the top hat pulled down low to meet it. Peeking out of the mass of fabric were a pair of round, teashade sunglasses, to conceal my glowing eyes.

I think I looked rather dapper, as he said.

I walked out of the changing room. (I know that, as a skelton, sorry, skeleton, that I had no more need for privacy, but habits are hard to break.) He grinned when he saw me. "What d'ya think?"

"I like it, but I'm beginning to think that I'm not going to avoid people's stares."

"Better stares than screamin'. Besides, there are all kinds of gimmicky Trainers out there. I've seen worse than you. You are a Trainer, right?"

I considered this. Do I really want to continue my dream? After what happened last time… yes. It is worth it. I nodded firmly.

He chuckled. "Seems like that's all anyone wants to do these days, but in your case I don't blame ya." He reached under the counter. "I mean, for you it's either train, or work in a haunted house, right?" He laughed at his joke, such as it was. I laughed to be polite.

He pulled a strange, green Pokéball from under the counter and placed it in front of me. "If yer gonna be a Trainer, ya gotta have a starter. And since yer too old to get one normally no matter how you slice it, you can have this'n."

I picked up the ball and glanced at him. "You are sure this is alright?"

He waved good-naturedly. "A'course! I was a Trainer once, a'fore I found my true calling. I've still got a few of the boys, but I ne'er got around to trainin' this'n. Found 'im up at Celestial Tower."

"The graveyard?"

"Aye." He looked at me. "That where' you're from?"

I was slightly taken aback by his question. "No, I was never buried."

He nodded, leaning back in his chair and placing his heels on the counter. "You take care of him, now."

"I promise, sir." I stepped outside, and for some reason it only then occurred to me to ask why he was so accepting of my existence. I turned around, only to find the door locked, and the thick blinds still over the windows and now the door as well.

I shrugged to myself and looked at the strange green Pokéball. I braced myself and clicked the button.

Instead of the usual white light, the energy that poured from the ball was black and tinged purple. The light coalesced to form a… floating candle with a blue flame.

"Litwick?"

Litwick, eh? "Welcome, friend."

Where is the hiker? Its voice echoed in my skull. For whatever reason, I could understand it… him. Convenient.

"He gave your… what is this?"

It's a Dusk Ball. It aids in the capture of Pokémon found in dark places or at night.

"Ah. We did not have these when I first started. Your Trainer gave me your Pokéball."

Did he… the candle asked suspiciously. It circled me a few times. Why?

"I wish to be a Trainer, and I needed a Pokémon. He gave you to me so that I may begin my journey."

Litwick blinked. A journey? Really? It cheered. After a moment it paused. Hold on… you seem a bit old to only just be starting your journey. And you smell of death…

I considered this. "Well, in truth I tried to start my journey long ago, but I've been held up for the past few decades and only now have I gotten a chance to do it."

What could possibly hold you up that long?

"Death." I grabbed my scarf and yanked, causing my skull to spin a few times before settling bck in its original position.

The Litwick stared. That's… different. If I wasn't already grinning, I would have. I wrapped the scarf back around my head. The sun was rising, so there would be traffic soon. Does… does it hurt?

"Not at all." I began walking, the candle floating after me.

What's your name?

"I am Xavier von Castel."

Cool. I'm Wisp.