Pokemon: Dreams Come True

Chapter 33: Colossal Problems

Trinity's POV

"Come on guys!" I shouted to my Pokemon as we ran for our lives, dodging the occasional Shadow Ball, Hex, Air Cutter, and even Thunderbolt. The trees had gotten thicker, so we had to pay extra attention in front of us, else we would hit a tree and then the Ghost-types would overtake us.

Haunters and Gastly slipped into the shadows and scared half to death when they came out. Once I was so shocked I almost fell. Luckily, Kirlia sensed it and grabbed me before I did.

Misdreavus, Golett, Yamask, and Pokemon I haven't seen before like Litwick and Lampent chased us down. Golett charged at us with Shadow Punch. Misdreavus used Thunderbolt. Litwick and Lampent used Ember and Flame Burst respectively.

But the thing that put us in danger the most was the Gengar that grinned menacingly at us, almost as if this hunt was just a game. It seemed to appear out of nowhere, attacking us with Shadow Ball. It managed to hit Kirlia once, and I had to return him to the Poke Ball because we couldn't risk going to where he fell on the ground.

The Gengar continued to follow us, much quicker than the others. It slipped into the shadows and surprised us by appearing in front of us, and we were forced to dodge another Shadow Ball, which costed us a few seconds and allowed the other Ghost-types to surround us, grinning at us malignantly. We kept running.

All in all, it was hell. My legs were burning, but if I slow down I die. These Ghost-types weren't fucking around. They tried to trap us with the fire, but we would always find a clever way to circumvent it.

The path was getting tighter, almost as if trying to trap us. We scrambled along the path, occasionally looking back with trepidation, but never for more than a second. A second without looking in front of us could still be fatal. The night air was colder than I remembered, and I found myself shaking with cold sweat.

We saw a turn and quickly ran at it, then hid behind a particularly thick tree that covered us completely from sight. Sure, we could fight, but there were so many.

I held my breath for thirty seconds, ignoring the tremulous aches of my lungs. Kirlia was out of his Poke Ball again, looking attentive. I knew he was trying to sense for our pursuers. Pikachu's tail shimmied from side to side, and I could tell that he too was sensing our surroundings. Machop leaned on the tree with an angry but subdued expression, clearly vindictive but understanding of our current circumstances. And Feebas... well I couldn't tell what she was thinking; she seemed so composed, nothing like that depressed Pokemon I'd captured days ago. She seemed vehement, if anything.

Prior to this task, I found out that Feebas could evolve in two ways: by trading her while she held a Prism Scale; or raising her until she felt beautiful and evolved naturally. Sure, I could simply get a Prism Scale and evolve her quickly, but I wanted her evolution to mean something, so I decided against it. I asked her about it, but she simply shook her head, refusing. She wanted to do it the natural way. I respected her for that.

Feebas were naturally ugly, but they all had beauty inside of them. Before, I saw Feebas as everyone else did: ugly and disgusting. But now, I saw Feebas and saw none of the ugliness on the outside, but the beauty on the inside. I knew that this Feebas would grow to be the most beautiful Feebas in the world, and I was determined to help nurture her inner beauty.

In a way, Feebas reminded me of... me. I'm not talking about the ugliness... or at least I hope I wasn't ugly. Many people have said that I'm beautiful, which is flattering, sure, but that's not the beauty I'm looking for. To me, inner beauty is much more important, with the exterior beauty being an extra. I appreciated Vali not because of his good looks and didn't judge him because of his ugly attitude. He had a subtle charm in him, one that has been buried under the burden of his trauma. But under all that trauma and that anger, I saw something in him—a light waiting to be turned on. I had a feeling there were many things he didn't tell me, but I wouldn't press him to tell me until he was ready.