Chapter 25 (Old Version) (Patreon)

This is an older version of Chapter 25 that was rewritten here. This post is being left up to preserve the comments. Otherwise, this chapter should be dismissed.

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Sam sat with a steaming cup of tea in front of him. Cyndaquil and Mankey had their own cups at his side. There were no chairs, only pillows, and he knelt in front of a low-lying table as Morty adjusted his scarf and prepared himself to head out.

“I'm kind of surprised you didn't realize it was me. That account basically uses my real name,” Morty said. “Matsuba is my name written in the old Johto language. Similarly, the same is true for Enju—it’s the old name for Ecruteak.”

Sam nodded, dazed, as Morty grabbed a few miscellaneous items off a nearby dresser and shoved them into his pockets. This was supposed to be a room for important visitors at the Gym.  A paper screen divided it off from the exterior hallway, and painting made of large brushstrokes head on the wall. It was supposed to impress, but Sam felt intimidated. It was like he had been invited into a space not meant for trainers like him.

“So... back then...”

“Your description was inspiring! It’s rare for me to stumble upon a new idea so well-thought-out. It was what drew me to your post; I absolutely had to have my starter test its possibility. Then, imagine my surprise when he got a handle on it in almost no time at all!” Morty shook his head, laughing quietly. “Hex pairs perfectly with Hypnosis and Will-o-Wisp, two moves already regularly used by Ghost Types. I'm impressed you managed to create a new move so early in your training career. After all, you haven't been training your team for very long, have you?”

Sam awkwardly scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “...Yeah,” he said.

Morty was giving him full credit for figuring out Hex even though he had explicitly taken it from the New Pokédex.

Well, it doesn't hurt if he never figures it out.

Still dazed, Sam stared at the green liquid inside of his tea cup, and Mankey brought up his own drink to his fur-hidden mouth. He took a sip only to gag. Cyndaquil, meanwhile, lapped at it and made a pleased noise.

Morty turned around and smiled. He approached the table and kneeled to properly rejoin Sam.

“Part of my duty as Gym Leader is to help promising young trainers like you,” he said. “My dream is to become strong enough to see a certain Pokémon, and you’ve more than helped me out with that. I have years of experience, mostly with the Ghost Type, but if there’s any advice I can give in exchange—”

“I want to be a Ghost Type specialist!” Sam blurted out. “I... I want a team of all Ghost Types! I want—need—to enter the Burned Tower, and I need advice on strategy! Please!”

He tried to bow to show his sincerity, but his head hit the table. He recoiled back, hissing and rubbing the growing bump with pain.

Morty chuckled lightly. There was a genuine smile on his face. The Gym Leader’s pale, purple eyes flicked over to take in Sam's cringing form.

“A Ghost Type specialist, huh?”

He then looked at both Cyndaquil and Mankey before doing a double take. Neither of them were Ghost Types, yet Sam had declared he wanted a pure, Ghost Type team.

“Well, some specialists do make exceptions.” He rubbed his chin. “Alright. I can help you. Follow me.”

He stood up, and Sam did as well, making sure to return his Pokémon. The Gym Leader turned and strode out of the room. His long strides made it difficult to keep in pace, but Sam absolutely refused to fall behind.

“Sorry if I seem rushed. Once a week, my duties as Ecruteak’s Gym Leader sees me visiting the local shrine. It’s right outside the Bell Tower a bit of a distance away. If you can't tell, I’m running a bit late today.”

The lobby of the Gym was empty, save for one person waiting at the door. When Morty entered the room with Sam alongside him, Redi perked up and ran to approach.

“Sam? What’s going on?” she asked.

Morty kept walking, not giving Sam a chance to slow down. Quickly coming to a decision, he stayed in pace with the Gym Leader, shouting to Redi to keep her informed.

“I’m— I’m going to talk with the Gym Leader! Sorry, but can you meet me at the Pokémon Center?”

The set of automatic doors opened up to let him and Morty head outside. They started to descend the staircase away from the Gym, and Redi stared blankly at them from the top.

“...Okay, but we haven’t figured out which Pokémon Center we’re staying at yet?” she mumbled.

Morty took Sam from street to street, occasionally greeting people they walked past. Locals waved, and tourists tried to approach. Unfortunately for all of them, Morty did not slow down and continued to fast-walk towards the shrine.

“Ghost Types are... Well, they’re mischievous,” Morty started, speaking to Sam and only Sam. “Their actions tend to lean towards the malicious more often than not, and when not satisfied, they frequently fall into phases defined by negative emotion.”

“Then how do you train them?” Sam asked quickly, having to almost run just to keep up.

“Carefully.” Morty laughed at his own joke. “No, but Ghost Types are still Pokémon, and as long as you keep the Type’s various quirks in mind and treat them with respect, most trainers will come out just fine. I know some people tend to focus on how dangerous Ghost Types are, but all Pokémon are dangerous. Just look at the Rock Type! One improperly thrown stone, and...”

He winced and shook his head.

Morty turned a corner, and Sam did the same. The change in environment was so abrupt that he paused before hurrying to catch back up.

This new street wasn’t an empty road; it was more like a festival than anything else. Bright, colorful lanterns hung on strings above the path, and booths lined its sides. Peddlers hawked their wares. Skeevy-looking people advertised games that were likely just scams. People dressed in old-fashioned, Johtonian clothes idled about and explored what this place had to offer. Most were too caught up in their own sightseeing to recognize the Gym Leader, but a few people excitedly pointed at him. Morty smiled back in polite acknowledgement.

“This festival happens every Friday. It’s why I need to head to the shrine today,” Morty explained. “But back to the topic of Ghost Types... You said you wanted to figure out a strategy?”

Sam excitedly nodded his head. The Gym Leader hummed and rubbed his chin.

“I would say that it varies from person to person, but with Hex, you actually have a unique opportunity in hand,” he said. “Hex is an incredibly powerful attack—comparable to Shadow Ball when used in the right circumstances. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could shape an entire team around it considering the uniqueness of the move.

“The way I see it, you have three different ways to make Hex work for you. The first is to simply use it as a surprise, strong attack, structuring your team around a powerful offense.

“The second is to focus on creating situations to maximize Hex’s potential, which would entail building your team around status conditions and weakening your foes.

“Finally, the third option would be to build your team around one or two Pokémon that have the power to set-up and sweep your foe. Wear down opposing Pokémon until they’re unable to sustain a defense, and then send out your chosen sweeper to quickly faint everything they have left.”

Sam wished he could take out his journal and write all this down. Unfortunately, the street was too dense with people, and the sounds of loud music gave the place a chaotic atmosphere that made it difficult to listen in. Morty kept talking, and Sam felt like he was fighting just to keep up. He had questions to ask—specifics he wanted to be explained. Yet, it was like he had to swim against a current just to keep in pace.

“For you, with your Pokémon, I’m not able to give any specific advice until you have more members on your team,” Morty said. “The best thing I can say is that at your level, strategy isn’t as important as having a decent offense. True strategy is something to work on at a higher tier of play, when your team is capable of branching out and implementing more options.”

“But I want to have a way to direct my Pokémon! I don’t want general training, I want to give them something to focus on as a guide!” Sam shouted.

Morty didn’t hear him. The Gym Leader kept talking. The density of the crowd around him made it feel like he was choking.

Morty went on to talk about specific species. Gastly, and their use of poisonous gasses and insight into Hypnosis. Haunter, with similar skills but now with a pair of proper hands. Gengar was speedy, agile, and capable of a surprising amount of tricks that manipulated shadow. And then there was Misdreavus, a Pokémon with surprising control over its own special attacks.

He was a veritable fountain of advice, but Sam hadn’t yet heard what he wanted to hear. He kept pushing after him, and the Gym Leader kept talking, seemingly ignoring his constant struggle.

What about capturing a Ghost Type? Training a Ghost Type? The New Pokédex is clear enough about a species’s potential, but what should I do when I add one to my team?

Morty slipped around a corner, and Sam chased after him. Escaping free from the crowd, he managed to grab onto the Gym Leader’s arm to get him to stop and shouted a question at the man.

“What about catching a Gastly?” he yelled.

His voice echoed around him. Morty blinked.

Sam took a look at his surroundings and realized he was now somewhere else entirely.

He hadn't noticed it, but the street had fallen silent. The crowds and booths once so prevalent had all but faded away. There were no people, and there were no other signs of life. Wherever Morty had led him, he was definitely not on the main path.

“...Where are we?” Sam asked.

The road was gravel, and there were only the backs of buildings around them. No windows opened up to this alley; the only light came from infrequent hanging lanterns and the moon above. The street stretched down an entire block and opened up to another festival road. However, due to the lingering darkness, Sam couldn’t see any movement on the other end.

Morty took a step forward.

“Follow me and don't speak,” he said, the usual levity in his voice now completely gone.

Sam wanted to try asking his question again, but the Gym Leader wasn't even looking at him. Any friendly expression had left the man’s face to be replaced with an unreadable gaze.

He chose to silently follow along instead as Morty pushed deeper in. They walked slowly, and their footsteps echoed ominously around them.

It was cold. The chill of the night pressed into Sam. He found himself wrapping his arms tight around his chest and debated whether or not it was worth sending out Cyndaquil. For now, he figured she’d be more comfortable in her Pokéball.

He wasn't sure how far into the alley it happened, but eventually, a voice called out. It was faint, requiring Sam to strain just to listen. The sound came like a fading whisper, almost caressing Sam’s ear.

“...Hello.”

Morty stopped. Sam stopped as well. The two of them turned around to face their newcomer—a woman standing about a dozen feet away.

She was young—older than Sam but younger than Morty. Skin as pale as the moon itself, her face was framed by perfectly straight, jet-black hair. She wore an old-fashioned, Johtonian kimono, but Sam couldn’t see her expression. Held in one hand, a paper fan covered both her nose and mouth.

“Hello,” Morty replied. The barest of smiles appeared on his face.

The woman bowed her head ever so slightly in greetings. Morty said nothing else.

“Forgive me for bothering you, fair travelers. I wish to ask for your assistance. There is a question that must be answered.”

“A que—”

Sam was cut off by Morty's hand hitting his shoulder and grabbing on. It squeezed him; the pain it caused told him to shut up and speak no further.

The alley became deathly silent. Sam stared at the woman, eyes wide. Yet, Morty seemed unbothered. The Gym Leader maintained that faint, polite smile.

“My apologies, but we have business elsewhere. We are already running late as it is.”

The woman bowed her head. Her hair and kimono shifted slightly along with the movement. For some reason, Sam thought she looked like a picture perfect example of ephemeral grace.

“I understand. I do not wish to be rude,” she replied.

Morty smiled one last time and turned to leave. Sam followed his example and stayed next to him as they began to walk away.

“Was that—”

“Do not speak, and do not turn around. Stare straight ahead no matter what you hear.”

Something about Morty’s voice made the hair on the back of Sam's neck stand up. His tone offered no room for any question, and Sam’s movements came out more stiff than before.

Each successful footfall was like the stroke of a clock. Each successive footfall was like a heavy thud against Sam's heart.

The voice spoke up again. The woman called out.

“Oh, but sirs?”

Sam didn't respond—he couldn't. Morty's hand returned to his shoulder. It inched over to grab the back of his neck, where it squeezed. It was impossible to turn his head.

“Keep going,” Morty whispered. “Do not turn around.”

His footsteps came to him faster. His breaths came to him quicker. He felt colder—far colder than he had ever felt before. That icy feeling settled into his gut, and he began to truly understand that this was no place to be.

“Before you go...”

Her voice was closer. There had been no noise that signaled her approach.

“I do want one of you to respond...”

She was right behind them. He could hear the sound of her breath behind his ear.

“I’ve been asking for so long. Won't someone answer my question...?”

A shadow at the edge of his vision. Morty’s hand squeezed even tighter. Sam was unable to ignore it—the silhouette appeared in the corner of his eyes.

The woman pushed her head forward to place it right between him and Morty. It was held perfectly level and without any support, as if there was no neck attached to its base. It crept forward ever so slowly—too smoothly to be natural—and Sam held his breath as the profile of her face became visible behind her fan.

He would never forget her smile.

And then she was gone. And then they were back in the festival. He and Morty reached the end of the alley and turned the corner, rejoining the chaotic sounds of life and the heavy warmth pervasive to this atmosphere.

Feeling as though he had just run a mile, Sam collapsed to the ground while Morty arched his back and pressed on his lower spine to stretch.

“What... What was that?” Sam all but yelled.

The Ghost Type specialist merely smiled and shook his head. Morty laughed despite everything they had just gone through, and he turned his pale eyes to where Sam lay on the ground.

“Do you really want to know?”

Sam hesitated.

He stopped, and he considered.

He grew up reading scary stories. He grew up absolutely obsessed with the Ghost Type. He always knew there was something more to it, some terrifying, horrifying, otherwise unknown secret. Yet, despite that, Sam had to admit that the current thrumming of his heart in his chest wasn’t anything he disliked.

“I do,” he said.

The Ghost Type specialist offered a hand, and Sam took it, allowing himself to be yanked up. Morty dusted the dirt off of Sam’s jacket, and Sam glanced back down the alleyway.

It was empty. Lifeless. No sign of that woman remained.

“Ghost Types wield a spiritual power, but they would be unable to do so if such power didn’t exist,” Morty explained. “There are times where conditions line up just right to create a circumstance like the one we just went through. Was it an illusion? Was it a hallucination? All I can say is this—it was dangerous, but it was good that you followed my commands.”

He smiled. A shiver went down Sam’s spine. There was something about the look in Morty’s eyes that told Sam he was absolutely telling the truth.

“So!” Morty patted him on the shoulders, a far different feeling than when he had been grabbed before. “As resident Gym Leader and local Ghost Type specialist, let me be the first to congratulate you on your successful encounter with a real-life ghost. Good job!”

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Author Note:

Matsuba is Morty’s Japanese name. Enju is Ecruteak’s Japanese name. His identity has technically been there since the beginning.

Chapter 23 has been edited slightly. It now mentions Redi’s victory against Jasmine at the very start, and some of the Pokémon speech has been eliminated—but not all of it.

Pokémon (and people) included in this chapter:
Gastly / Haunter / Gengar
Misdreavus

Morty

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