The Ghost Specialist

There was only a short walkway around the house, divided off from the street by a wall. A few patches of fallen leaves lingered here and there, gathered up by either wild Pokémon or neighbors trying to be kind. Even though this place was abandoned, it looked completely normal. Sam had trouble believing a real ghost was inside, but given how unassuming this place was, that lack of anything noteworthy was probably why the ghost had gone undisturbed.

He glanced around to make sure nothing suspicious was going on before sending out all of his Pokémon. Primeape and Quilava appeared at his sides, and Misdreavus entered the air while Haunter passed into a nearby shadow.

“We have a job,” Sam announced slowly, watching the house before him. “A test, specifically. Morty is going to give us information on where ghosts are for Quilava, but there’s also a ghost here. He wants to take care of it before he shares any information.”

Primeape grunted and raised a hand. His question was clear—why not just have Quilava evolve here?

“Because we need practice,” Sam answered. “She has to help a ghost move on on her own without any of us helping her. Even if we weren’t being tested, it’d probably be for the best to do something like this. We’ve only seen one other ghost, and it was a Pokémon. This is just... us preparing her for her evolution.”

Primeape nodded, lowering his hand, and Sam brought his gaze back to the house.

He didn’t know what type of ghost lurked inside or even how strong it was. He could ask Morty for more information, but asking would defeat their purpose here.

“Can someone get the door?” Sam looked over the locked handle sealing the house.

Misdreavus phased through the door to open it from the other side, but before she could undo any lock, Primeape punched to bash it inward and send the door swinging open.

She sent him a frustrated look to which he replied with a cheeky snort.

“It’s fine. A little bit of damage is expected.” Sam paused. “Probably?” he offered.

When he checked on Morty watching him from the street, the Gym Leader just waved.

Sam walked in through the open door, stepping into a dim room with his Pokémon around him. The curtains in here weren’t thick enough to block out all of the midday light, but they didn’t allow enough illumination to see that far in.

Quilava let her back glow with embers, and Misdreavus focused. A weak Will-O-Wisp hung around her, but as a Ghost Type, her wisps were closer to a purple than the usual Fire Type red.

“So far, it’s just a living room. Some shelves. Furniture covered by tarps.” Sam looked around. “An opening to the kitchen in the back. A staircase up. Overall, a bit dusty, but not too bad.”

As he took in the place, he couldn’t help but smile. It was a bit nostalgic, all things considered.

“Honestly, with how the furniture is covered, I’m kind of reminded of that mansion we explored in Dewford. Right, Quilava?”

Her sniff told Sam that she didn’t have the same fondness for those memories. He could give her that; getting screamed at by a Whismur definitely wasn’t pleasant.

Sam laughed, and the noise helped push away some of the tension lingering in the room.

The light from his Pokémon helped him see a bit further, and he was able to make out a few loose items left on the shelves. Some sections had discolorations to mark books and other items that were once on them, but hardly anything remained.

Either forgotten or too worthless to steal were a series of photos, many of which were of the ocean. There was a framed certificate with faded words saying “...ycove City Fan Club” as well as a pair of open and empty Pokéballs that had half-turned grey from dust.

“Haunter. Misdreavus. Can you two stay on guard? And Primeape, be ready to use any Dark Type moves. I don’t want us to be ambushed or—”

He stopped when he heard a noise from upstairs. It sounded like a scuff against the floor—either a footstep or a door closing. It could have been a human, but there was far too much undisturbed dust for anything living to be still here.

The only explanation he could think of was that their target was upstairs.

After checking over his team, Sam received several nods of support. No one looked obviously nervous, though there was still some uncomfortable shuffling, and Quilava purposefully stepped closer to Sam. As Ghost Types, Haunter and Misdreavus faded into the shadows without a problem, and Primeape stayed at the back, looking ready to throw himself into a fight.

With Misdreavus hidden, her Will-O-Wisp disappeared, and the nearby staircase now only had Quilava’s light to allow Sam to see up it.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered, starting to walk over. “Keep an ear out, just in case.”

Something brushed against his leg, but it was just Quilava. For some reason, he swore his shadow looked visibly empty.

Did all of the wild Ghost Type choose to stay behind? Or did Morty do something?

He didn’t have an answer, but Sam had a feeling he could only rely on his team right now.

“...No point in waiting,” he mumbled.

The interior staircase was built into the wall of the living room, and it curved upward and disappeared into a hallway on the upper floor. Trying to steady himself, Sam placed a foot on the first step only to go utterly still.

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up.

When he breathed out, he saw mist.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered.

There had been nothing earlier. This chill had only begun the moment he intentionally put his foot on the stairs.

There were many different types of ghosts, but not all of them caused the air to go so cold. Poltergeists tended to possess objects, and their presence could only be sensed within those objects. If the air was cold like this, the options for what this was were drastically reduced.

One: a Ghost Type. Lingering Ghost Type energy could make the air possess a spiritual chill like the one Sam currently felt.

Two: an environmental effect. Unlike extruded Ghost Type energy, tragedies and lingering regrets could create pockets of temperature-less chills. Those were the environments in which Ghost Types formed naturally, but Sam doubted that was the case.

He would have been jumped by a wild Pokémon if that was true.

No. He doubled it was just passive, Ghost Type energy, and he doubted the cold was just an environmental effect. It came too suddenly, too targeted, for it to be anything else.

There was now no doubt in Sam’s mind that they were dealing with a legitimate ghost.

Slowly, he took another step, and the chill seemed to spike and suddenly increase. When he reached the third step, it felt as though someone was scraping ice cubes against his bones.

“This is nothing. If I can’t do this—” Sam forced himself to breathe. “If I can’t do this, what’s the point of calling myself a Ghost Type specialist? I should be able to handle the feeling caused by some random ghost.”

His words were a fire in his chest that let him move to the fourth step up. He knew that his Pokémon had subjected themselves to a similar feeling in the past—Dusclops’s Pressure was somewhat the same.

Sam might have been a human with little resistance to this type of energy, but he pushed onward, regardless. While a real ghost could inflict a feeling similar to Pressure, he had to admit this wasn’t as directed. Morty’s Pokémon had purposely trained its ability to use in battles, whereas this feeling seemed more like something trying to keep him away.

Besides, Morty had sent us in here for a reason. He’s outside; if this gets dangerous, we’ll be pulled right out.

Sam took another step, feeling as if there was now a glacier pressing against his back. Thankfully, after the next, the pressure didn’t get worse than that. Whatever was causing this seemed to be at its limit as it tried to force him back down.

But he refused.

Sam could ignore it. He lied and told himself that everything was just in his head.

So, he reached the next step. Then the next. And the one after that.

Slowly, Sam continued to climb, even as mist left his throat.

At one point, a shadow appeared on the wall beside him, but instead of an attack, Misdreavus revealed herself to support him by leaning against his side. Haunter joined in opposite to Misdreavus, bracing Sam with his hands as he moved up.

“Thank you.”

Sam smiled, determined, as he rounded the staircase’s corner and stomped upstairs. Even with the freezing chill around him, each footfall came easier, and he moved higher, and higher, and higher, until—

“We’re here.”

The cold vanished. Mostly. Rather than be directed onto him, it was now like a passive chill. Darkness stretched out in two directions with a hallway that crossed the interior of the house.

His Pokémon stayed at his side as he narrowed his eyes to try to see if anything was around. He held his breath, searching carefully.

At the hallway’s end, he swore he saw something shift.

“Quilava, Swift! Primeape, Dark Type!”

There were a few different ways to handle an aggressive spirit, and Sam chose to take the easiest. It took focus and determination to linger on this plane after passing. A battle, while angering, could exhaust a spirit and cause it to lose its focus.

It was either that or help it with its lingering regrets—assisting it with its desires—but that kind of action took time and dedicated research.

At his side, Quilava followed his orders, and her back blazed to life. She hopped forward, twisting in the air to sent shining stars spiraling down the hallway.

Behind them, Primeape charged. A Normal Type move like Swift wouldn’t deal damage, but it could still home and help aim attacks. He and the move rushed through the darkness, reaching the end of the hall, where there was a sudden crash.

“—’ape!”

Primeape bounced off the wall and clutched the forming bump on his head. The swift tore through the curtains and shattered the glass of the window.

On the other side, a lone Pidgey flew away from its perch, disturbed by the commotion behind it.

“...Right.” Sam cleared his throat. “Window’s open. The darkness is gone. We can see now, at least.”

Misdreavus stared.

Since Sam could now see, he could better make out what was in this hallway. Overall, the house wasn’t very large, with only a couple upstairs rooms. He could see an open, empty closet, a darkened, unused bathroom, and the closed door to what was probably the bedroom to the side of a far end.

“Are we all in agreement we’re heading to the bedroom? We heard that door close, and since I can see into the closet and bathroom, it’s pretty obvious nothing’s there.”

Primeape grumbled, rubbing his head where he ran into the wall, and moved over to the door. Before Sam could stop him, he had already opened it up.

Nothing jumped out at him, and there was no ghost on the other side.

This bedroom was empty, lacking any furniture. Sam could make out a door to a wall closet, a pair of closed windows, and marks on the floor leftover from where the bed used to be.

But there was something else left right at the heart of the missing bed. Laying face down on the ground was a framed photograph, sitting in a pile of shattered glass from where it had likely broken when falling to the floor.

“Okay, okay. Sure. I’m not dumb. This is a trap, right?” Sam looked around to receive a series of nods from his team. “Yeah, I’ve read a lot of ghost stories to know how this works. We look at the picture, get some kind of hint as to who this ghost is, and then it’s going to attack us the second we let our guard down.”

He looked to his Pokémon for feedback. Misdreavus looked unsure, but Haunter eagerly nodded his head.

The kind of setup Sam described was exactly what he’d do when trying to scare someone with a prank.

Primeape looked as though he just wanted this situation to be over, but Quilava was turned around.

She stared into the hallway behind them, nervous that something would suddenly approach. However, nothing was there.

“...Alright. Keep an eye out. Guess we’re getting jumpscared.”

Sam walked over, knelt down, and picked up the photo.

Nothing happened.

He blinked, checked the hallway once more, and looked around for a ghost that never appeared.

Confused, Sam glanced down at the frame he held in his hands. Its protective glass cover had shattered, exposing the photo underneath. It displayed an old man with a white, neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He was smiling, and he was leaning forward against something. It looked like both hands were pressed down on two different objects, people, or creatures, but the bottom was torn in a way to make it impossible to figure out.

“An old man.” Sam frowned. “It’s sad, but this is probably who we’re dealing with.”

He looked away, not enjoying the reminder that most ghosts used to be living people.

Nothing had jumped out at them yet, but that same chill remained. There had been no change in any way to its feeling, but given what was still in the house, Sam’s eyes flicked to the closed wall closet in the room.

It was the only place they were yet to glance into.

“Haunter. Misdreavus,” he whispered.

Sam tilted his head to the side to gesture to the next place to search.

While he had been wrong about the photo, there was a second option here. Now that this first setup had failed, the next possible one would be that he’d open the closet’s doors, see darkness, and then the ghost would jump out.

It was another pretty basic scenario, all things considered.

“Guess there’s no ghost after all!” Sam made sure to raise his voice. “Looks like this place is just an empty house! Nothing to be afraid of!”

He looked around.

It didn’t take the bait.

I’m really going to have to open that closet, aren’t I? We’re going to fight a ghost. It’s going to be difficult. Depending on what it wants, it might seriously seek to hurt us.

A ghost’s final desires could usually boil down to revenge, the defense of an object or location, or the wish to pass on a message to a loved one. That last option was unfortunately common, but it was the first two that made Sam worried.

Still, even with all the information from Morty’s book, Sam couldn’t explain why the chill had lessened once he reached the second floor. As he approached the closet, he tried to wrap his mind around why it would try to stop him from moving up the staircase.

It didn’t make sense.

Unless it was trying to protect something.

Cautiously, Sam waved his Pokémon over, and put his hand on the indent of the door. After taking a deep breath, he threw it wide open.

Two cries immediately echoed out, but they weren’t from Sam’s Pokémon.

“Pet!”

“Skull!”

Before Sam could respond, hands landed on his shoulders as Haunter tore him backward. At his side, Primeape was surrounded by the blue glow of Misdreavus’s Psychic to be yanked back, where he rolled across the floor to smack into the far wall.

That left Sam stumbling backwards on his own, recovering from Haunter’s sudden pull.

Laughter started up before it. It didn’t come from a real ghost.

Two creatures cackled madly to themselves, mistaking Sam’s stumble backwards as something he did due to being scared. The first resembled a cloth doll, floating thanks to a nail pierced through the inside of its body. The other resembled a skull mask covering a body of dark flesh. Inside of it, a red orb floated back and forth like some kind of wisp-like eye.

Sam’s two Ghost Types hadn’t pulled him and Primeape away to stop any incoming attack. No, it was to stop them from attacking.

These two were young and wild Ghost Types trying to get a scare.

“Shuppet-et-et-et!”

“Duskull-ull-ull!”

Both Pokémon said their names and laughed.

Sam kept his face blank and emotionless as he stared at the Shuppet and Duskull floating in the air.

“Hello?” Sam said.

Haunter started to laugh.

Simultaneously, the two Ghost Types seemed to realize what had just happened and how many other creatures were with them in the room. The merry expressions vanished, replaced by the crushing realization that they were now surrounded.

“Wait!”

They started to move back, but it was Misdreavus’s voice that caused them to stay.

“Drea!”

Before they could panic and run away, Misdreavus rushed to greet them. She shouted her name once more, coming to a stop with a smile.

“Drea,” she said again.

Both the wild Shuppet and Duskull stopped, tilting their heads to the side out of curiosity.

They proceeded to ask her a question, and Misdreavus nodded, beginning to talk to the two unexpected Pokémon here.

“It’s weird,” Sam whispered, stepping back to speak with Quilava. “These two are species from Hoenn. We’re in Johto. What are they doing here?”

She squeaked with a similar question, but she continued to stare out the room’s hallway door. Sam frowned as he watched Misdreavus lead the Shuppet and Duskull around. She introduced them to Haunter. Then Primeape. Quilava. And then Sam.

Sam politely nodded back.

“Hello, again. So... Did you two... I mean...”

He let out a sigh.

“Did you two belong to the person who owned this house?” he asked.

He very much doubted these two were their target. That chill in the staircase wasn’t anything unevolved Ghost Types could cause.

Unfortunately, he didn’t receive an answer to his question. Shuppet blinked at him. The Duskull looked toward the ground. Misdreavus rushed over to glare at Sam, chiding him even though he couldn’t understand.

“Sorry,” he said, wincing.

He could at least get the gist of it.

Ghost Types come into existence either through hatching or forming in areas filled with lingering regrets. If they aren’t hatched, forming out of negative emotions can’t be pleasant.

These two are connected to the ghost that’s here. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The problem was, Sam wasn’t sure if they had directly belonged to that old man or if they had formed out of whatever had been left behind. The worst part about that unknown was that Sam knew he’d never get an answer. Based on Misdreavus’s response, the question was too close to some kind of taboo.

Taking charge once more, Misdreavus talked to her fellow Ghost Types, moving them away from Sam, and Haunter joined in. He floated behind her and pushed his face around to shift into horrifying expressions. Anyone else would have been sickened, but the Shuppet and Duskull laughed.

These two...

Sam watched the Shuppet and Duskull closely. Neither seemed to be on guard, and the casual way they were behaving told him they wouldn’t be ready for a surprise fight.

They aren’t battlers.

The realization made Sam blink.

They’re domestic, but they’re leaning into Misdreavus’s conversation too much. If I have to guess, I think they’ve been living here for a while. I’m not sure they’ve met another Pokémon before, or at least, not for a very long time.

As Sam observed all of the Ghost Types interact, he realized Quilava was silent.

Something warm pressed into his hand.

He looked down to see her nudging him to try to get his attention. She tried to gesture to the hallway, directing him to look past the door.

Only she had noticed. Haunter and Misdreavus were busy, and Primeape was sitting on the floor with his arms crossed. Quilava was the only one still on guard to see the hazy silhouette watching them from the hallway.

Sam stiffened on his feet.

The figure didn’t move.

He could only make out the basic shape of some kind of person, but rather than looking at Sam, the figure seemed to only care about the two wild Pokémon in the room.

“I...” Sam’s throat felt hoarse. His heart raced in his chest.

He thought back to everything he’d seen before quickly coming to a conclusion.

“Alright. I think I understand.” Choosing to ignore the ghost, he strode right up to the Shuppet and Duskull. “How do you two feel about leaving this place? Leaving and going somewhere where you wouldn’t be so alone?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his gambit start to work—the silhouette turned his way.

Both the Shuppet and Duskull stared.

“I train Ghost Types, but you aren’t battlers. I can tell you aren’t interested in being trained like that. How about, instead, I bring you somewhere where you can be taken care of? Somewhere where you’ll be safe. Somewhere where you’ll be more comfortable than here.”

After spending a moment to process Sam’s words, the pair of Ghost Types turned and darted away. They weren’t moving to escape. Instead, they paired up to have a rushed, hurried discussion about Sam’s offer.

Though they were different species, Sam could see similarities between the pair of Pokémon and Tibia and Fibula. These two had lived here for quite some time. If he had to put a label on them, Sam would call the Shuppet and Duskull siblings.

After half a minute of discussion, they turned back around, both of them briefly glancing at Misdreavus and Haunter.

They locked eyes with Sam.

“Shuppet.”

“Duskull.”

They nodded, accepting the offer.

“Great!” Sam said. “I promise that I’ll bring you somewhere you’ll be happy.”

For a moment, he swore he saw an old man’s smiling, but then it vanished. The silhouette disappeared.

The ghost in this house was now gone.

“He was protecting them,” Sam said once he was outside, staring down at the dusty Pokéballs in his hand. “I think these two were either his Pokémon or what formed out of his Pokémon’s regrets. Either way, the ghost here wanted them to be safe.”

Morty had a sad smile on his face as he listened to Sam’s story. When Sam was done speaking, the Ghost Type Gym Leader closed and massaged his eyes before breathing out.

Sam had to wonder how often Morty heard stories like this.

“We received reports of something moving around in this house at night,” he said. “Officers came to check it out, but the only thing they confirmed was a vague chill, and neither went upstairs. The report was then passed to me, and I made the mistake of choosing to wait. I should have recognized that the ghost wasn’t aggressive and that it was staying in its home. But since it wasn’t hurting others, I thought it best to leave it alone.”

He let out another sigh. Morty looked tired. He made the best choice he could with incomplete information, but he wasn’t perfect. He clearly didn’t intend to leave Shuppet and Duskull alone for so long.

“If I had known the ghost was just protecting those two Pokémon, I would have sent someone to collect them sooner. I thought the ghost was just territorial. I’m sorry you had to go through a sad story like that.”

“It’s... fine. I’m just glad to help,” Sam said.

Morty nodded, rubbed his head, and then he looked up.

“The thing about ghosts...” The Gym Leader rolled his jaw. “Most people overestimate their maliciousness. It takes a strong desire to stick around after your demise. There's something almost admirable about that, as sad as it is, but it means that non-Pokémon ghosts tend to possess a single purpose. Not every ghost wants to hurt someone else.

“The vast majority of spirits stay near a specific location or are bound to a meaningful object,” he continued. “There's a reason I take a more passive stance when it comes to handling ghosts. They just want to keep things safe. I don’t believe most of them deserve to be forced to move on when we can find ways to help, instead.”

He turned toward Sam, who silently listened. In his hands, Sam clutched the pair of Pokéballs containing the Shuppet and Duskull.

“This wasn't so much of a test as much as it was a lesson,” Morty said. “You said you want to know where you can find a real ghost, but I want you to understand this, first.

“Not every ghost deserves to be suddenly forced into its final rest. Some of them have desires that deserve to be fulfilled.”

“I understand,” Sam said.

Morty nodded, satisfied.

“Just... make sure you find a way to help whatever ghost you go after. Promise me that, okay?”

“I promise.”

Morty smiled a bittersweet smile. He turned to stare at the abandoned house.

“You did a good job, Sam. Maybe a bit less property damage next time, but for your second time handling a ghost, you did well. I had Gengar follow you to make sure you stayed safe, and he didn’t report back with any complaints.

“As for those two Pokémon, while they’re a surprise to me, I can make sure they’re brought somewhere comfortable. The Ecruteak Gym has plenty of—”

“No,” Sam said.

Morty blinked.

“No?” he asked.

“I... We promised to bring these two to somewhere they can be taken care of,” Sam said. “Shuppet and Duskull.. They aren’t battlers. They just want to be happy. If it’s alright with you, I have somewhere else in mind.”

Amanda was confused when she entered Dewford’s Pokémon Center. It wasn't like Sam to send a message to her so suddenly, especially not without scheduling a call, first.

She entered with Delcatty following along, the feline holding her head high. As usual, Delcatty behaved as if the Pokémon Center was blessed to have her around, a behavior becoming more and more common after all of their recent training.

However, the trainers here only seemed to care about Sableye. Even though his species could be found in the nearby Granite Cave, wild Sableye were still rare and hard to find. His mostly unique Typing made him a strong choice to take on the local Gym. A few relaxing trainers, those taking on the current Hoenn season, watched him follow her. She could see the interest in their eyes.

Sableye wasn’t interested in the slightest, however. He grabbed the bottom of Amanda’s pants and made a point to ignore everyone else here.

“Hello!” Amanda said, greeting the nurse once she reached the counter. “I received a runner saying something was waiting for me..?”

The man behind the counter looked up at her and smiled.

“Yes! Nice to see you again, Amanda. Here. These are for you.”

He reached under the counter to take out a tray, sliding forward a pair of Pokéballs alongside a note. Curious, Amanda unfolded the piece of paper to read the message left for her by her son.

She smiled.

“I can do that,” she said, chuckling to herself once she was done. “It seems that even though my Samuel’s still out on his journey, he’s making sure our little bookstore will never feel empty with him gone.”