Suffocation; a dark gaseous veil. They traversed the sorrowful corridors. Gravestone decorated halls. They watched with bright, glowing eyes, the people that passed by. They hated them for being alive. They hated themselves for being dead. Melancholy drove them forth. Attracted them like Dustox to a flame. They would pass through walls, hovering just behind their grieving victim, then they would attack. Their gaseous shroud enveloping the human's head, drowning them in dark indigo. Their laughter echoing throughout the empty graveyard.
Not many people now arrive to pray for their deceased friends... The Trainer's began to just simply ignore their existence.
The Gastly wouldn't have it. Vengeance. Vengeance. Vengeance.
They would repay those that used to hold their memories intact. They would drag their very lives from their bodies, take them and turn them into one of their own; to forever haunt the halls of the melancholy tower.
