Pokemon: Spectre

CHAPTER I - GOODNIGHT KAKUNA

(-o-)

I moved to Kakuna Village when I was seven. A tranquil and welcoming settlement not far from the city of Viridian. Thick woods, river streams, and open fields lay all around, but the wild pokémon that inhabited the area were so used to people that they were considered harmless. Berri trees and vines grew in plenty within their seasons, often attracting groups of Butterfree that people, especially kids, enjoyed playing with. Despite its rural setting, there was running tap water and electricity, though outages could occur every now and again.

I moved here from Rustboro City, in Hoenn, when domestic troubles had reached a tipping point.

After months of custody struggles, my parents weren't on the best of terms and decided to settle the matter with a Pokémon battle right in the middle of the living room. It started off as a joke, but when my dad brought out his Treeko, my mother's Zigzagoon took it as threat, heckles raised and baring its tiny fangs. They fought with little provocation, screeching and darting after each other, singularly focused on tearing each other to pieces, never mind who or what was in the way. The battle didn't last very long. The damage did.

In fact, I still live with it today.

One of Treeko's razor-sharp leaves sliced across my face and made me one-eyed. They rushed me to the hospital, but aside from pain relief, the medical team could do nothing about by sight. My left eye was permanently blind.

When my grandmother heard the news, she wouldn't let my parents hear the end of it. Gran had always had a soft spot for her son-in-law, my father, but I think she lost it after what happened to me. She took me in, no help needed from the law. Both my parents knew how bad it would look if it went to the authorities and agreed I could do with some months in the countryside. Neither of them would win custody, and Grandma would have some human company around the house. Nobody expected the move to become a permanent thing.

The closer I grew to Gran, the less I wanted to see my parents. I didn't hate them, but it just wasn't the same. I could see the look of guilt on them whenever they looked me in the face, and I don't think they liked being reminded of their mistake so often. Gran had become my home, though it did take me weeks to get used to her Oddish when I first moved in.

My blind eye still gets an annoying and un-scratchable itch whenever I get nervous. One of the side-effects of being violently traumatized as a child, I was told.

I think it's fair to say I've kept a cautious distance from pokémon ever since. That never mattered in the past, but now... well let's just say that it may very well come back to bite me in the butt.

***

It must have all began when that van turned up three days ago, because strange things started happening soon after. That night, I woke up feeling so nauseous I almost threw up. Like someone had used defibrillators on my brain. I found Grandma up too. And apparently, so was half the village.

Gran was busy brewing some tea when we got a knock on the door from a neighbor asking for sleeping powder. The Oddish became a Gloom a couple years ago. Her name was Glee, and Gran used to harvest her powder frequently, keeping it in jars. Neighbors asking for herbal remedies was nothing new. She was like the village apothecarist of sorts. She gave a few doses out and we returned to bed with no more interruptions.

The next night, when it happened again, I knew something was going on. We went outside and saw nearby neighbors gathering. Everyone in pajamas. If it hadn't been for the churning in my gut, I'm sure it would have felt like a fun little nighttime bash.