The Ghost Specialist

There was no news in the morning. Rather, a tense but sullen air followed the Pokémon trainers that loitered in town. Hushed whispers spread among them, consisting of questions that asked how and why this all sparked up.

No one had answers.

Sam at least had hints.

The flock of Murkrow that had chased him had been way too motivated in their attacks. The Honchkrow that led those Pokémon had far too intense of a hatred in its eyes. Something had to have happened to encourage all those wild Pokémon to attack, and something was out there that actively guided that shared anger.

There was no way that the Honchkrow had organized all of this on its own. That felt especially true when Sam thought about how more than just Murkrow were involved.

Of course, the hints he possessed didn’t provide any answers outside of the idea that there was maybe something behind all these attacks. The local Pokémon Rangers were yet to solve the problem, as a problem this widespread meant they needed to take their time. With so many different Pokémon going after so many different travelers, the Rangers had to stay cautious to stay safe. That need for cautiousness doubled when considering how Pokemon from off-route—more than just that Honchkrow—had been involved in the attacks.

Trying to get past the lingering nerves in the air, most trainers here resorted to their namesake—training. When at odds with what to do, Pokémon trainers most often tended to train. When Sam left the Pokemon to do exactly that, he found that the rear, exterior field was almost entirely packed.

Trainers and their Pokemon covered the field, so group exercise was out of the question. Thankfully, Sam was at least able to find one spot that allowed him to work one-on-one.

“Primeape,” he said, and Primeape grunted to reply. “Try using it again. I don't want us falling back on Rage when we need a stronger move.”

The memory of a certain moment in the forest yesterday visibly stung at Primeape. Sam had called for a Rage Fist, but all Primeape had managed to do was unleash a basic Rage.

He tried to bring that frustration to the forefront of his mind. A thick vein throbbed on Primeape’s head, and he drew back an arm while narrowing his eyes.

Unfortunately, something was missing. Primeape’s attack was strong, but it lacked the requisite Ghost Type energy. His fist struck empty air, the move containing a powerful force and the default Normal Type energy but nothing else past that.

Primeape slumped, then he roared and swung for another punch. This time, however, he let his move carry him forward, where the momentum saw him collapse onto the ground with his anger turning to disappointment.

“We know you can use it after setting up with Curse, but we need a way for you to gather that energy on your own,” Sam said, kneeling next to his Pokemon to try to comfort him. When speaking, he made sure to keep his words unspecific to not reveal Rage Fist to anyone listening in. “I can also tell that you're definitely getting angry enough, but maybe it's the wrong kind of anger? We want you to use Ghost Type energy alongside it. Maybe we need a change of mindset—how are you sourcing your anger when you use your move?”

To Sam’s question, a dark expression flashed over Primeape’s face.

Not anything happy, then. But probably not anything that relies on his species’s passive anger, either.

“It’s fine,” Sam said. “We’ll just keep working on your control until you get it. Your species is all about utilizing your inherent rage, so we just have to figure out how to tap into it in just the right way. We can't have you lost in it either; you need to be in complete control.”

Sam patted his Pokemon on the head and sent Primeape a smile. The Fighting Type huffed and pushed up to his feet, leaning back to stare at the sky.

Primeape knew how to use Rage Fist. He had the skill and familiarity needed for the attack’s technique. However, he could only manage to gather the needed Ghost Type energy after a use of Curse. That’d change once he evolved, but he needed to master Rage Fist, not just know it, if he wanted to reach his next form.

“Maybe Redi’s up for some sparring. We can ask her once she’s back,” Sam mumbled.

Unfortunately, she was out right now. She left a while ago to do laps around Mahogany Town, sprinting with her Pokemon to build both speed and stamina.

“Sam.”

Continuing his exercises, Primeape paused mid-punch, his hair suddenly standing on its ends as he glared at the uncomfortably familiar voice that came from behind Sam. Sam cautiously turned around, and he blinked when he was met with an outstretched arm and a plastic card held in hand.

Xavier pushed his trainer ID forward once more, emphasizing how he was presenting it to Sam.

“Xavier?” Sam was too confused for a proper greeting. “You’re giving me your trainer ID?”

The other boy scoffed.

“No,” Xavier said. “Look at it. I want you to look at it.”

The plastic card was about as expected, stating Xavier's name, ID number, and a few other bits of personal information. It included his region of origin—Johto—as well as the date on which he first registered as a trainer.

But, more importantly, a certain mark on the card’s upper right corner caught Sam's attention. It was the same mark that was on his own, the one that had been applied after he had won in Morty’s Gym.

“You're approved to take on ghosts,” Sam stated.

His eyes lingered on the ghost-shaped mark on Xavier’s ID.

Nodding, Xavier pulled his card back, taking out a metal badge case to slide his ID card back in. The whole time, Primeape glowered at him next to Sam. They hadn’t exactly got off on the right foot, and Primeape’s species was known to hold a grudge.

“I am,” Xavier said once he put his badge case back away.

“How?” Sam breathed.

“I did my research. I looked up historical encounters. I trained Noctowl, I applied, and after that...”

He didn't need to finish his statement. He might not have been a Ghost Type specialist, but he apparently had both the skill and experience to pick up the gaps. With whatever he had, Xavier had been approved for the same kind of work expected of Sam as a Ghost Type specialist—he had the League’s approval to assist with real ghosts.

“But surely there’s no way you were approved with just one Pokémon, right? Right?” Sam asked. “Yeah, sure, Noctowl can reveal ghosts, but is that really enough? Poliwhirl, Yanma, Donphan... What other Pokémon do you have that can help out?”

Xavier frowned as Sam stood up. He turned away to stare out at the crowd of other trainers here.

“You’re right. It's not just Noctowl.” It sounded as if Xavier had to fight just to admit that. “Noctowl can reveal ghosts, and my team can fight them. But when it comes to locating them...”

“Yeah?”

“Ghosts are dense with negative emotions,” Xavier said. “I have a Pokémon that’s capable of sensing them. Let’s leave it at that.”

Sam awkwardly shuffled from side to side. Xavier’s stare made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate. But, more than that, Xavier was both taller and at least a year older than him. Both of them had grown since the last time they’d met, but just being next to Xavier made Sam feel small.

Young, specifically.

Sam cleared his throat, stepping back from the field to give the other trainers here more space to train. For a while, he and Xavier silently watched all of the other trainers practice with their Pokémon. Whenever Sam checked to his side, Xavier’s expression was utterly unreadable.

“H-How’s your journey going?” Sam eventually asked, voice cracking at the start.

I want to punch myself in the face.

Thankfully, Xavier smirked at the question.

“I have seven badges, with my victory over Pryce being my most recent. We have only Clair left to defeat, and once we clear our final Gym, we’ll be spending the rest of the season training.” Xavier paused. “What about you?”

“We have six!” Sam stood taller despite the lower number. “But that’s just because we haven’t taken on Pryce yet. We already defeated Clair. My Pokémon and I managed to take her on in a double battle and win!”

Dragon Types were strong, and Clair rarely, if ever, accepted challengers with five or fewer Gym Badges. Xavier raised an eyebrow, almost impressed, and Sam felt as though he’d just won in a Gym right here and now.

“So Chuck will be your last Gym Leader,” Xavier stated.

“That’s just how it turned out. We’re looping around so Redi can face Ecruteak Gym again, and then we’ll continue back to Olivine to take a boat to Cianwood from there.”

Xavier’s route through the region had been slightly different, as trainers’ paths tended to branch out around Ecruteak and Violet City. Xavier and Sam had followed the same path to Violet City, but after taking on Walker’s Gym, Xavier had traveled west instead of east to return to Goldenrod and get on a boat that took him to Cianwood.

“I see,” Sam said, listening to Xavier explain the path of his journey so far. “So even after all of that, you only have five Pokémon?”

“Yes,” and Xavier sounded somewhat annoyed about that. “I’m still looking for my sixth, which I hope to catch before taking on Clair. But since I’m so ahead of the schedule, I’ll have plenty of time to catch up anyone who joins.”

Sam nodded. A few more seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

“Clair’s difficult,” he eventually said. “Dragon Types aren’t to be underestimated.”

“Same goes for Chuck’s Fighting Types and Pryce’s Ice Types. Type advantage isn’t everything.”

Sam nodded again, unsure how to respond.

He and Xavier stood there for a few more minutes, neither of them speaking any words. Eventually, Xavier snorted. The smirk on his face made him look as amused as Sam felt awkward.

“Then, we’re both on track to earn all of our badges. I’ll see you in the Conference. Don’t let me down.”

“Y-yeah!” Sam said. “You too!”

But to that, Xavier just shook his head and walked off. Once he was gone, Sam fought to not collapse on the ground.

“...Ape,” Primeape grunted, barely holding back his amusement.

“Oh, shut up, you. I’m not awkward! I’m just... better with Pokémon. And books! Am I really supposed to carry every conversation perfectly? That was fine! I’m fine!”

Primeape started to laugh, and his mocking smirk was visible even through his fur. Sam just rolled his eyes with a groan as he returned his Pokémon. Then, he marched back inside.

“Ah, Samuel? You have a message waiting for you.”

Sam blinked at the nurse behind the Pokémon Center counter. While this place was packed, there wasn’t anywhere near the same level of rush to heal Pokémon as there had been the night before. Everyone in need had already been treated, and the local Pokémon Rangers hadn’t made a large-scale push yet. Plus, with the current feeling in the air, the trainers still here wanted to keep things simple to not risk any major injuries.

So as Sam passed over his team to let them be checked over, Nurse Joy slid him a printed note retrieved from a slot in her desk.

“This is the message?” he asked.

“No, this is just the notice of it. Someone left you a recording on our video phones. Just go up to an empty one, hit the pound button, and enter the code written on the paper,” she explained. “Now then, thank you for visiting the Pokémon Center! We hope to see you again!”

She bowed her head before looking over Sam’s shoulder at the next person in line. Sam tilted his head back and stepped away. Reading over the printed card, he was able to check its information. It contained both the time the call came in—only a short while ago—as well as the original phone number.

His breath caught in his throat when he realized the message was from Morty.

Moving quicker, he jogged over to the back section containing the Center’s video phones and quickly located a free one for him to use. Around him, plastic dividers isolated him from the noise of other trainers making calls, and he followed the nurse’s instructions to enter the code to see the message left from the call.

A flash.

The screen turned on, and Sam was met with the image of Morty’s familiar face.

The Gym Leader held a wired phone up to his ear, and he smiled at a camera in a very forcibly polite way.

Not good or bad news, then. Just passing on information?

The recorded video began to play, and Sam paid close attention to Morty’s words.

“Hello, Sam. This call is mostly a formality. I’m leaving you this message as part of the deal we made in exchange for your favor. I don’t have any new, explicit locations of ghosts, but I do have news of one that might be found near you.”

There was a pause on the screen as Morty rocked his jaw back and forth. He looked visibly uncomfortable as he took a moment to consider his next words.

Sam felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the Pokémon attacks going on north of Mahogany. The Rangers there are still gathering information, which is being passed along to League analysts and trainers like me. These kinds of attacks are somewhat common after natural disasters, but they’re never on such a grand scale. The leading explanation is that there’s something organizing all of this. Primarily, they’re trying to assess the possibility that these attacks are being caused by something like a ghost, and...”

Morty sighed. As the Gym Leader rubbed his head, Sam finally noticed the dark bags under the man’s eyes.

“It’s a strong possibility,” Morty said, speaking with an obvious reluctance in his voice, “that the one organizing all of these attacks is a ghost—a Ghost Type Pokémon, I mean. This might be the opportunity you're looking for, but—”

He stopped himself, going quiet again.

“If it’s a real ghost, then it’s exactly what you need, but I have a gut feeling that it’s a Pokémon,” Morty said quietly. “Given what I know you’re searching for, I’d wager there’s a decent chance that helping it will also help Quilava, but... it’s risky.

“What I mean by that is, you haven’t yet encountered a truly aggressive ghost.” Frowning, he leaned back in his seat. “Well, there was that one back in Ecruteak, but you had my protection, so you didn’t need to fight it. This? It’s dangerous. Ghosts and Ghost Type Pokémon lash out when enraged. This one won’t have anything it’s protecting. It won’t have any reason to hold back. If I had to describe it—and I’m an expert with this kind of stuff, remember—I’d say these attacks match the pattern of something seeking out vengeance.”

Sam stayed silent. There was no point in responding; this was a recorded message. But more than that, he’d only seen Morty look this serious only a handful of times before.

“I hate to say it,” Morty said, eventually continuing, “but I also think this is your best chance at an evolution if nothing else has worked. But I know you. You’re going to want to take it on, and there’s very little I can do to stop you without going against the favor you cashed in. And even if I did do something to stop you, you’d just find a way around it, so...”

He chuckled.

“Be careful. Keep in mind that whatever this is dangerous. If a single Pokemon is behind all these attacks, there’ll be a reason it’s so angry, and there’ll be a reason so many Pokemon are willing to obey its commands. This is a Pokemon that wants to hurt people, and I don’t want you to get hurt chasing an evolution. Whatever you do, stay cautious, but also remember that it doesn’t have to be you. It’d be painful to pass this opportunity up, but the League has its people searching for ways to help. You can always let them handle this Pokemon themselves, but you’re also...”

Morty smiled.

“You’re also you, aren’t you?”

From there, Morty sent his well-wishes to both Sam and his Pokemon before quickly leaning forward and hanging up the call. The screen paused on an image of the Gym Leader stretching an arm toward the camera to turn everything off before the screen went back.

The phone booth was plunged into silence.

Sam was left with a lot to think about.

“Sounds like this is going to be difficult,” a voice suddenly said behind his head.

And to that, Sam jumped in his seat, causing Redi to burst into laughter.

“Sorry! Came back right when I saw you walking to the phones. Dragonair and Ursaring are getting healed. I managed to catch almost that entire thing.”

He glared at her before sighing, turning back to the screen.

“Yeah. Just.... ugh. What Morty said fits into what I was thinking. There’s definitely something behind this. I just didn’t think it might have been a Ghost Type, but this level of retaliation fits, I guess.”

Redi hummed, and when she next spoke, she lowered her voice so that only Sam could hear.

“So then do you think helping this Ghost Type will be enough?”

“Calming it down? Maybe,” Sam said. “But Morty’s right. If he thinks this might carry the chance, then I do too. It’s going to be dangerous, but we can’t afford to pass this up.”

She nodded, crossing her arms and leaning back, using one of the booth’s dividers to keep herself upright.

“You have my help,” Redi said.

Sam weighed his options.

“How good is Porygon’s Teleport?” he asked.

“Getting better.”

“Good,” he replied. “If we can use that to escape, then I think... I think we’ll be able to gather information before coming to any decision, first.”

Of course, gathering information meant doing something really stupid. Sam recognized it was stupid. Redi recognized it was stupid. Their Pokémon recognized it was stupid.

But they were going to do it anyway.

The only reason Sam could even entertain this thought was because Porygon knew Teleport. If they got into danger, they wouldn’t need to fight. They’d just need to last a single second, and then Porygon could bring them away to let them escape.

The plan Sam and Redi hashed out was simple; under the cover of dusk, they’d leave town and enter the closed-off northern routes. From there, Sam would search. Not for the Ghost Type responsible, but for whatever had caused it to turn so aggressive.

But he didn’t plan to step onto that dangerous Route completely blind. When he had the chance, he left the Pokémon Center that afternoon to talk to Shin. The mushroom collector was staying at an inn on the northern side of town. He and his Parasect had decided to treat this forced time away from home as some kind of vacation.

“Changes on the Route? Hm. I already told the Pokémon Rangers everything I knew, but let’s see...” The man hummed as he nursed a drink. “It’s really just that forest fire from a bit ago. Can’t think of anything else that’s happened in the past few weeks.”

“Can you show me where it was on this map?” Sam asked.

“Sure. Wasn’t even too far away,” Shin replied.

When it was dark, Sam and Redi left the Pokémon Center as if nothing was wrong before running to reach the north side of town. There, instead of passing through the gap that led to Route 43, they moved off to its side, and Dragonair picked up Porygon in her mouth and flew over the surrounding, steep hills.

Under the cover of the falling night, no one noticed her, and after a few minutes, she came back still carrying Porygon. Redi hugged Dragonair in thanks before whispering an order to Porygon that saw them disappear and then reappear on the hills’ northern side.

Then, they ran.

Sam’s Pokémon were Ghost Types, which were perfect for hiding them at night. Night Shade could turn the area around them pitch-black, but instead, Sam had Misdreavus and Haunter maintain an area of dim light. The move helped disguise their group while also serving to muffle any noise. It was hard to see at times, but making this area hard to see went in both directions. It’d take a concerted effort for anyone to notice their group through the visual noise of the forest.

Tibia and Fibula helped out, guiding them through a winding path northward that let them stay clear of any danger. Even the most mundane of Pokémon was avoided. There was no sense in risking any fight, no matter how “easy” it might have been.

Neither Sam nor Redi talked as they ran. The two of them pushed aside any of their usual banter in favor of staying perfectly silent. They weren’t supposed to be here, and for a good reason at that.

Still, they were much more prepared this time around than the last time they went somewhere they weren’t supposed to be.

Over several hours, they ran through the woods, eventually slowing to a determined hike. With how careful they moved and with how twisting their path was, it was slow-going, but they eventually reached where Shin had mentioned that fire.

To Sam, no other location made sense. If this was the only place there’d been a major event recently, this had to be what caused the Ghost Type’s need for vengeance. Even if they found nothing here, searching this place would at least tell Sam that they needed to figure out a different approach.

No matter what, Sam promised himself he’d make sure Quilava could evolve. He was prepared to take even greater risks if it meant a guaranteed evolution into Hisuian Typhlosion.

So, searching around, eventually, he could see it; the location of the fire Shin mentioned. Between the trees, the canopy vanished, and a harsh divide saw the forest turn into a series of blackened, ashen pillars.

A graveyard.

Like spikes stabbing out of the ground, the charred remains of trees stretched toward the clear night sky above them. Bare branches reached out, grasping at the stars like empty, skeletal hands.

There were no bushes. No foliage. No fallen branches or anything else littering the ground. This part of the forest was motionless and still.

Even within concrete buildings, Sam had never been anywhere that contained such a lack of life.

“It’s... dead,” Redi whispered.

Though her voice was quiet, it felt like a scream within the silence of these burned woods.

“Forest fires do that,” Sam said. “This place is just... gone.”

Except—

Is one forest fire really enough to cause Pokémon to be so aggressive?

Sam continued forward, moving to the front of their group. Misdreavus ended up leaving his shadow to float beside him. Her own expression turned grim with shadows that passed over her eyes. As she looked around, her face was more than just unhappy. She looked at the dead trees with disgust, as if the sight stirred up bad memories.

Soon, they reached another divide, one that was more than just a sudden lack of green between trees. The scattered, darkened trunks opened up into a wide space that must have once been a grove.

Here, the earth was still. Silence so deep filled the air with an intensity that made Sam feel it in his bones. When he breathed in, it was warm, as if the memory of the past fire remained.

As he looked around, Redi nudged his arm to gather his attention. He almost missed it because of the darkness, but in the middle of the clearing was a stump.

It wasn’t a small one with a smooth surface, created from the efforts of a felling axe. No, this stump was wide enough to have once been a grand tree, but that tree had collapsed in on itself and turned to ash, leaving behind a broken, jagged stump that barely went past their heads.

This is...

Sam could picture it. A terrible heat that consumed a tree that stood above the rest. The forest, alight, burned in the wake of its death. It might have just been a tree, but with how empty this space was, it must have been massive. Its absence here helped explain to him just how much of a tragedy its death had been.

But if it was so large, how big was it? Could Pokémon have lived in it? How many, then?

An entire home, turned to ash. With a single fire, it vanished from the forest forevermore.

“Sam,” Redi whispered again. “I think... I think we’re in the center of the fire. The dead trees go out about equally in every direction. I think it started here.”

He stayed quiet. It felt wrong to speak right now.

Staring at the dead, blackened stump, Sam took a step forward, but Misdreavus suddenly turned around and hissed her name.

“Drea.”

She stared out into the woods. Her slowly waving hair now stood straight on its ends.

Sam grabbed Quilava’s Pokéball, and Redi grabbed one of her own. However, though she initially reached for Ursaring’s, her grip quickly switched over to grab Porygon’s Pokéball instead.

“Something’s here,” Sam said.

He began to take cautious steps back, moving away from the line of trees and toward the stump in the middle. Redi followed, and Misdreavus stayed out. A few of the wild Gastly that had wandered away from Sam now returned, hurriedly diving into his shadow as if in panic.

Through the silence of the night, branches creaked around them. Shadows unknown to Sam shifted between the trees.

The dead forest came alive. Hot and cold mixed together in a swirl that made Sam sweat.

Then, he saw it.

A red eye.

Singular.

Malicious.

Burning.

Once he noticed it, it noticed him. The eye stared back with what was unquestionably hate.

It had appeared in the center of a tree in which it had been slumbering, and the entire tree moved as it forced itself awake. Withered bark and dried branches cracked to take on a new form. Bits of its body shook off ash as it pulled parts of itself in and down toward the ground.

The tree was no longer just a tree. A brambled scowl broke open, tearing across its face.

A howl was carried in the wind, though no breeze blew. In the distance, a flock of Pokémon cawed and left the trees. Shapes from the surrounding forest began to race their way.

“What is that?” Redi whispered.

The Pokémon’s sole eye smoldered. The only reason it wasn’t attacking was because it had just woken up. Allies were coming to assist it. It didn’t need to commit just yet.

It glared, and Sam felt as though its gaze pierced through his chest.

Redi might not have known what species this Pokemon was, but Sam certainly did. He had spent way too long memorizing all possible Ghost Types to not be able to identify them by heart. More than that, the Blackthorn Clan’s notes had already confirmed this species’s presence in the region, and its entry in the New Pokédex had been interesting enough.

Sam knew what Pokemon it was.

He spoke its name for Redi to hear.

“Trevenant.”

A Ghost Type Pokémon, part Grass, known for protecting the forests they lived in while being unforgiving to those that did them harm.

As Sam said its name, a hissing noise left the Pokémon’s throat. A grin crept onto the wild Trevenant’s face, with wood snapping to take on that cruel, hateful shape.

Sam understood why Morty had warned him. This was a Ghost Type, but this was a Ghost Type that wanted to inflict pain. There wasn’t the same joy in its eye that he could see in Haunter’s. There wasn’t the same desire to make friends that Misdreavus possessed.

It wanted to harm. It wanted to hurt. The Trevenant wanted nothing more than to make sure they would never escape.

Sam forced himself to breathe, realizing he had stopped upon feeling a burning in his chest. At the same time, he was able to put together the clues. With a gaze that hateful, he knew what had caused the Trevenant to act like this.

“Humans caused this fire,” Sam said.

All the world fell still, and Redi snapped her gaze toward him.

In the distance, the sound of incoming Pokémon grew louder. The Trevenant flexed its claws, sending splinters to the ground. It lifted up a rooted leg to step forward, and Sam spoke up as fast as he could.

“Everyone in. We need to leave,” he said quickly.

Before the countless wild Pokémon could reach them, Misdreavus returned to hide within his shadow. The red glow of Trevenant’s eye narrowed.

It screamed.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

“Porygon, use Teleport! Bring us to Mahogany Town’s Pokémon Center!”

With Redi’s shout and the flash of a Pokéball’s red light, they disappeared the same moment the Ghost Type Pokémon lunged. The forest was filled by a cacophony of anger, and the Trevenant roared.

It would not be getting its revenge that night.

But it would get more opportunities so very soon.