Sirens cut into the chilly night air.

Red and blue lights flashed, illuminating the scene in front of him with an eerie glow. Some people were yelling, while the others' incessant chatter was a dull background noise.

Citizens and tourists alike were held at bay by the police. They circled around the crime scene. Some held up their Pokégears, peeking between the officers as they yelled. Machokes assisted these officers, standing behind them with their arms crossed and occasionally roaring at the crowd. News channels spoke behind the crowds, gesturing towards the crime scene.

Looker flipped up his trenchcoat's collar, burrowing his head slightly into the fabric. He ensured that he was hidden amongst the other police officers and investigators as he observed the scene.

There, on the ground in the middle of Jubilife's famous red light district, a man's body laid prone in front of Looker.

There was a clean slice across his throat. His neck was barely holding onto the rest of his head. The Jubilife Police hurried to cover his pale body with a sheet as they waited for the medical examiner to show up.

The man's drying blood was smeared in intricate lines across the cobblestone pavement. In a language Looker learned only months before his arrival to Sinnoh, the blood spelled out in crimson letters, "A NEW WORLD."

"Crazy, isn't it?"

Looker's dark brown eyes flicked to his side. A young man around his height stood, donning a navy blue uniform, flashlight in hand and a baton in the other. The man shifted from foot-to-foot, glancing around everywhere but the body on the ground. He was speaking to another police officer who was eyeing the body.

He stayed silent, but the young man continued anyway. "You think this could be the man that went missing at Valley Windworks up in Floaroma? Some poor couple found him on the street as they were bar-hopping, already dead, apparently."

Looker returned his eyes onto the deceased man. The medical examiner and his team had arrived, and people were being ushered out of the way by the machokes to make room. It did not take long for him to state that it was a homicide. Looker watched as the rest of the team quickly put the deceased man into a body bag.

However, as they were doing so, the man's forearms, which were previously tucked under his body, were exposed.

Through the dried blood, Looker could see long, ragged scratches stretching across the length of his forearms.

As the young man chattered beside him, speaking about his first night on the force as being hectic, Looker watched as the deceased man was taken away. Even after the public had dispersed and the crime scene began to be cleaned up, Looker stayed.

How peculiar, he thought.


The early signs of dawn began to crack through the night sky.

Looker was deep in thought as he walked the empty streets of Jubilife's red light district. Most of its citizens were either asleep or in the local bars and nightclubs scattered throughout the alleys.

His hands were shoved deep in his beige trenchcoat's pockets. He palmed at his minimized pokéball, tucked securely away in his pocket. He rolled it across his fingers as he watched his breath puff out into the air with each step.

As he passed a vending machine, its lights flickering weakly, a flash of red in the corner of his eyes caught his attention.

Backtracking, the deceased man's crimson blood spilled out in letters across cobblestone still fresh on his mind–A NEW WORLD–he looked down the alley.

There, laying behind the steel bars of a small gate, sat a worn, red cap. A blue pokeball design was etched into its side, but the thread was beginning to fray.

Looker slowly walked closer, eyeing the cap. Bending down, he went to grab it from between the bars when his eyes caught onto a shoe, laying not too far from him.

His heart rate picked up. He tried to look further into the alleyway, his face now pressed up against the bars, but all he could make out was a dark lump, even with the brightening sky.

A man–a woman, she had a hat too–covered in blood.

Using his foot as leverage, he stretched to his full height and grabbed the upper bars. He pulled his weight up, taking care to not get either his lavender tie or his trenchcoat caught on sharp rusted edges, and hopped the fence.

He dropped next to the hat on the other side. Picking up both it and the shoe, he approached the dark lump carefully.

Piles of snow lay on the ground, mostly undisturbed. His black dress shoes crunched with every step. The alleyway was narrow, and his broad shoulders brushed against the gray bricks that lined both walls.

His eyes began to adjust, and, the closer he got to the lump, the more he could make out its features.

His breath hitched.

Laying in a pile of snow, stained with red, was a young man.

He was not dressed for Sinnoh's winter weather, with only a T-shirt, a thin vest, and a pair of jeans. On his bare arms, there were numerous bloodied scrapes–fresh blood–and dark bruises. His clothes were torn and shredded in some places, and he was missing a shoe. His black hair was damp from the melting snow.

He looked to be in his early twenties. His pale skin was tinged blue. Looker bent down to check for a pulse, his heart racing, dropping the items down next to them.

A man–no, a woman, dead, he watched her die–with blood everywhere.

Gently, he touched the man's wrist. It lay limp, bent in an unnatural way. He must have fallen (from the rooftops, maybe?) and landed on his stomach. Looker grimaced at the sight.

He let out a sigh of relief. There, just barely, was a pulse. He went to pull out his Pokégear when he caught sight of the man's bag, not too far away from them.

Looker's eyes narrowed.

The bag was torn open, its contents spilled everywhere. Laying halfway hidden underneath a brown and well-worn journal was a key.

Stretching out his arm, he grabbed the key, bringing it close to his face.

Tiny letters spelled out a familiar name: Valley Windworks.

Looker's eyes flicked back to the unconscious young man.

"You think that this could be the man that went missing at Valley Windworks up in Floaroma?"

How peculiar, indeed.

Gently, Looker pulled the young man away from the melting snow and onto the flat ground. He shrugged off his trenchcoat, wrapping it around the young man. Luckily, he was shorter than Looker, so he was able to be wrapped completely from the cold.

Hovering over the man for a couple of seconds, checking to see if he was still breathing once again, Looker turned his attention over to the rest of the man's belongings.

In his torn, yellow bag, Looker found a multitude of items. He concluded that he must be a pokémon trainer or a pokémon collector, with the vast collection of pokéballs that he had at his disposal. There were also multiple evolution stones and plates.

But those were not the things that caught Looker's attention.

In the main pocket of the man's bag, there were items such as a Pokédex, fishing rods, and a poffin case. However, tucked underneath all of those things, were several more keys.

Pulling them out from the bag, he found exactly what he suspected once he set eyes upon the Valley Windworks key: a key with a large yellow "G."

Pocketing his find, Looker collected the mysterious man's scattered belongings and shoved what was left into his torn bag. With a strained grunt, Looker picked up the man who was wrapped up in his trenchcoat and turned towards the gate at the end of the alley.

He sighed. This is going to be a long walk back to the apartment. He shifted uncomfortably. And this kid is heavy.

But, I wonder. As he slowly walked forward, taking care to not slip on any black ice, he glanced down at the young man's bruised and bloodied face.

Does he know anything about this 'new world?'


A/N

I don't own Pokemon, nor do I claim to. Jumpscare! I'm back!