Sister Clémence had called all the children to the great assembly hall, where they stood lined up: about 90 orphans. Lost children who didn't grow up in parental care but under strict supervision of the nuns. Sal secretly looked left and right. Immediately, she was elbow-nudged by Vivienne.

"Look ahead, if you don't want to get beaten up again!" Vivienne whispered. The dark-haired girl was just as skinny as Sal. Vivienne was already eleven years old and took care of Sal. Sal was two years younger and struggled to heed Vivienne's advice. In the middle of the room, she had already caught a glimpse of the hated pedestal Sister Clémence had brought with her.

The new parents were about to arrive. Everyone knew what it meant: One wrong look, one wrong word, even the slightest sign of rebellious behavior, and they'd feel the cane afterwards. The thought of it made Sal wince. She stared intently at the opposite wall. It was painted in an uneven shade of gray.

"Praise His Majesty Dominique d'Arnauld, for the grace he bestows upon you. One of you, miserable rags, will get the chance for a new life. So you better behave yourself! Am I clear?!”

Sal stretched her back so hard it hurt. She heard the squeak hinges squeak as the massive wings of the wooden door were pushed open. A few seconds later, they slammed shut with a loud crash. The sound of footsteps on the stone floor echoed through the dull room. The educational institution was reminiscent of a barracks: it was built for a specific purpose and made this clear in architecture and furnishings.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" She heard the friendly, slimy voice of Sister Clémence.

"Gender and appearance won't matter." A man replied. "We value efficiency and obedience!"

"Of course, Monsieur. We are sure to find a child who meets your requirements. I already have a few ideas."

Sal bit her lips. She already knew what was coming. Her hands were balled into fists.

"Sally!" barked Sister Clémence. Then, she said with hypocritical kindness: "Come, my darling. Be a good girl."

Sal knew she had no choice. Not really. It was either the pedestal or the cane. If things went badly, even both.

"Of course, Madame." Sal’s shoes were rough. They rubbed on the blister that had burst again yesterday. Eventually, she had learned to ignore the pain. Without speaking a further word, she stepped onto the pedestal. A strong hand closed around her jaw. She opened her mouth obediently, already used to the routine.

"Teeth could be better cared for. Is she sickly or does the yellowish coating stem from poor hygiene?" The man didn't look at Sal. Not really. He only saw her flesh, her potential force of labor, not the human being hidden behind blue eyes.

"Arms up!"

Sal followed his order and stretched her arms out to either side. Once again, she felt the man’s hands palpating her body in a businesslike manner.

"Flex!" he commanded. His big hand closed around Sal's thin upper arm and pressed. Sal tried to fight back the tears.

"Do you have bad hearing? You should flex your arm!"

Sal flinched. Her voice was shaking.

"It hurts."

"Worthless! Sister? The next child, please!" The man's voice sounded snide. Sal stepped back from the pedestal. Before she rejoined the other orphans, she caught a glimpse of Sister Clémence. Sal noticed the sparkling eyes that hid a wordless message. Her whole body tensed up. She felt nauseous. Tonight, Sal was certain, she would feel the rod.

Sal awoke. Her body was drenched in sweat. Trix, who had just licked Sal's cheek, instinctively took a step backward.

"Air!" Sal gasped. Everything was spinning. Her back felt as if it was on fire. She frantically fumbled open her sleeping bag and stumbled out of the tent. Once outside, she was overwhelmed by the cold. At that moment, however, the chilling air was not an enemy, but an ally, who cleared Sal's head and brought the orphan girl back to reality.

"It was just a dream. It was just a dream." Sal repeated her mantra. "You're long gone." Her gaze turned to Haunter. "We're long gone."

The Ghost Pokémon grinned at Sal.

She stroked the scars on her face thoughtfully; the only keepsake she had of her parents. All she knew from the nuns was that she was the whole survivor of a terrible fire. Sal could't remember. All she knew about was her time at St. Juste Orphanage, that was etched deep into her thin bones. It was a gloomy place - full of punishment, rivalry, and daily distribution battles between inmates. That's what they were: nothing but prisoners, waiting to be gifted with a second chance. Sal didn't know what happened to the boys and girls who got a new family. But she could tell from the looks of the men and women she faced on the podium that escape was the better alternative.

"Ouch! Corry, stop! It hurts, even if it's meant to be super nice!" Salandit had climbed up Sal, thinking it was a good idea to ignite her claws in the process. Sal snorted, half-shocked, half-relaxed. She patted out the tiny spots of burn on her leather jacket.

"Great. That's going to leave marks! Yo, Corry, didn't know you could do that." Salandit stared at Sal insistently. The elongated snout, combined with the slitted eyes, gave Salandit a cheeky appearance that contained an unspoken challenge. Sal turned her gaze to the firmament. The night sky had changed color and bathed the dumps in an unusual, purple light. It was snowing.

"Tomorrow will be a long day. Guillaume wants us to fight against challengers. We better rest. Come on, let's lie down again." Sal said to the group, suppressing a yawn. Salandit and Trix signaled their approval, while Haunter seemed uninterested.

"As ghost, you probably don't need sleep." Sal thought as she snuggled into her sleeping bag. In the dark, the eyes of the ghost flashed as he slowly approached Sal. Haunter's eyes turned violet. Sal's eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs turned leaden as she felt Haunter forcing fatigue on her.

Something tugged at her innermost being. Sal embraced the all-too-welcome numbness. Her fears and worries were dampened and pushed aside. Something was taken from her. Own and foreign thoughts and feelings merged. An inner fog enveloped her mind, making her ignore the instinctive discomfort when something became a part of her. It was a power she couldn't describe. A power, she feared and longed for. Sal smiled blissfully as tiredness overwhelmed her.

"An exhilarating feeling of freedom," she thought in a daze before sinking into a deep sleep.

Trix snuggled up to Sal. The shapeshifter's eyes narrowed into slits. They were directed at Haunter. Trix made no attempt to hide her suspicions. Her body was tense. She was already reaching for the dark power deep within herself, that she knew was harming Haunter. As useful as he was, she considered him to be just as dangerous. Trix knew that Sal wasn't thinking straight on this point. But it was okay. After all, Trix was there to protect her. That's how they’d always done it, and how it always would be.

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"Hungry." Sal murmured sleepily as the first rays of sunshine shone through the clouds and into her tent. With shaking hands, she struggled to unzip her sleeping bags. She always felt terrible after having nightmares. It was also the case today. Haunter had given Sal a good night's sleep but robbed some of her strength in return. The night had left its mark.

Trix's rough tongue moistened the back of Sal's hand. The girl giggled. She sat cross-legged and pulled her backpack close. Salandit was also awake and about to conquer Sal's back. Sal felt her muscles cramp as the Pokémon's claws dug into her shoulders with gentle force.

"You're way too awake. Stop being so awake!" Sal grumbled as Salandit settled comfortably in her hair. Sal's hands searched the depths of her backpack for a piece of bread from yesterday's raid.

"Yo, Spooky, was there anything going on tonight?"

Sal found what she was looking for. She broke the bread into three unequal parts and greedily shoved the largest into her mouth. It was better than nothing, even though it couldn't suppress the rumbling of Sal's stomach. The other pieces werde distributed to Trix and Salandit. Haunter had retreated to a corner of the tent and was staring bored into the void.

"All right. Rise and shine, ladies!"

With Trix by her side, Haunter in her shadow and Salandit in her backpack, she left the tent. Only a few meters away was Paul’s and Henri’s sleeping place. The two bums stood in front of a rusted barrel they found a few weeks ago. It had been a real stroke of luck. Since then, they used the bin to burn garbage, keeping them warm.

"Morning." Sal greeted her two comrades.

"Hey Sal, well, how's it? Do you have anything left to eat from yesterday?" said the somewhat chubby Paul.

"As if." Sal snorted.

"Doesn't cost anything to ask. What's on your agenda today? You gonna collect stuff with us later or will you go begging?"

"Neither. Guillaume wants me to fight today."

"Doesn't matter if you're one of his sergents. Take care of yourself, girl." Henri chimed in. He was the oldest of the three and something like their voice of reason. You know, if you live like lightning, you’ll end up being struck by thunder!"

"Don't worry and save your teapot wisdom for someone else." Sal grinned at Henri.

"Tsk. Whatever you say. I only mean well with you, girl."

"Of course. I'll take it easy, ok? Being real nice, keeping my head down and all that." Sal tightened the straps of her backpack. She winked at Paul and Henri and began to move away from the burning barrel.

"See you later! I'll try to get you something. But better don’t count on it!" Sal shouted at the two of them as her footsteps carried her deeper into the heart of the dumps.

As one of Guillaume's sergeants, Sal guarded every now and then a small area that led to Guillaume's hidden gym. Provided, one dared venture deep enough, there existed three paths one could take to wind their way through the mountains of trash, in hopes of reaching the ruler of the dumps. The path to Sal's district was already a challenge that proved too much for most trainers. Here, the concentration of poisonous Pokémon such as Grimer, Koffing and Trubbish was much higher than at the entrance area. Just a few hundred meters from Sal's current position was a small Grimer colony. She always went to great lengths not to disturb the Pokémon.

Garbage piled up meters high to the left and right of a thin but clearly visible path. The rusted handlebars of a bicycle protruded from one of the colorful mountains. Dented pots and rotten wood scraps were wedged into each other. Between them were the remains of old clothes, long since eaten by moths. Industrial waste piled on top of each other, forming a natural labyrinth in this man-made place.

Those who followed the well-trodden, springy path made of cardboard, clothing and metal came to one of the mini-coliseums Guillaume had created - round areas, largely cleared of garbage. Here, the challengers first had to face his sergents before earning the qualification to face the man himself. Sal was now guarding an area that had an almost hill-like structure.

After a while, the high mountains of garbage lining the way left and right flattened out. It was obvious that someone had taken the trouble to remove the garbage and distribute it as evenly as possible on the floor. Nevertheless – or perhaps because of this – there were many hiding places for little Pokémons. Sal had just stumbled upon one.

"All right, Corry. Smoke them out!"

At the edge of the Colosseum, about knee height, was a large collection of garbage. An old drawer, wedged between junk, was the entrance to a nest. With nimble movements, Salandit scurried deep into the mountain of rubbish. She knew the smell. It was a nest of Rattatas. Salandit loved to scare the little rat-like Pokémon. She meandered through a corridor with ample room to maneuver. Her claws were already heating up. A fire blazed inside her. She was the fire. And she would take it to the inhabitants of this hideout!

Shortly after entering, the corridor bend downwards. Salandit pushed further into the depths. Each step increased her excitement and fanned her lust to fight. The lizard-like Pokémon pressed her muzzle to the ground, sucking in the smell left by the inhabitants of the burrow. The scent failed to have its effect of deterrence on Salandit.

Instead, it increased her excitement Salandit followed the smell. Every now and then she was pausing in between to orient herself and pick up the trail again. It was easy to get lost in the aisles. But the scent was infallible. She kept running. The smell became more intense. Soon, it was time!

Salandit's sharp teeth twisted into a hideous grin as she entered the dome-shaped heart of the burrow. At last, she had found her prey!

She came over the Rattata like a natural disaster. Her opponents had already organized their defense: three females positioned themselves protectively in front of the younglings. The males, two in number, had taken up position between their females and Salandit. To intimidate the intruder, they puffed themselves up, chattered their teeth, and raised their neck fur.

Salandit quickened her steps, not afraid in the slightest. She was a hunter. Her coming meant death or submission!

With each step, Salandit accelerated. She became speed herself! Just before reaching her enemies, she jumped into the air. Her poison sacs had long since produced the toxic bodily fluid she now ignited with her fire. A sweet smell enveloped Salandit while she landed on the first Rattata. Her burning claws dug into her victim's face. Her teeth found little resistance when she shoved them into Rattata’s neck. They lit up for a brief moment and Salandit felt the venom leaving her. Soon, it would spread in Rattata’s organism.

She pushed herself away from her victim before it could strike back. The tip of her tail gave off a sweet smell. It was a smell, that made males submissive. The weaker they were, the more potent the poison was. Meanwhile, one of the females had given up on protecting the younglings. In blind rage, she pounced on Salandit.

The latter managed to dodge the attack by a hair's breadth. The unharmed male came to aid but stopped in the middle of the movement. He seemed dazed. At last, the poison began to show its effect. Salandit redoubled her efforts to produce the toxic liquid. She heated it with her internal fire. Soon the weak-minded males would tremble at her claws!

She turned to the female who showed no sign of stopping. It howled murderous. But Salandit's fighting spirit was unbroken! Such attempts at intimidation had no effect on her. Her enemies simply were too weak. With a broad grin, Salandit opened her muzzle. Devastating flames flickered in her mouth, ready to set the world on fire.

Salandit spun on its own axis and drew a circle of fire around herself. At one point, the flames found enough food to continue blazing. The fire was threatening to destroy the nest. Soon, the inhabitants of the burrow fell in panic. Immediately, the female let go of Salandit. Instead she focused all her energy and threw herself into the fire. It was a tackle with full risk and without regard for her own safety.

The attempt to ram out the fire with her own body succeeded, but Rattata paid a terrible price for it. She staggered, dazed. Her fur was scorched in the head and chest area. Suddenly, she felt an intense pain! Sharp teeth dug deep into her neck. Fiery claws tore her throat bloody.

The female resisted with all her might, trying to shake the murderer off her body. It was an unsuccessful endeavor. Salandit was too big and too heavy - Rattata too small and weak. She instinctually clung to life. In a desperate fight for survival, she tried to ignore the pain, breathe, and stay conscious. Finally her body started to twitch. Rattata felt her strength failing. Slowly but surely her eyes closed.

Salandit felt the resistance weakening, as her enemy's muscles failed her. With her teeth still dug into the female's neck, Salandit shook the body of the dead Rattata left and right before letting go of it. Satisfied, Salandit turned to the two males, who were no longer of danger: The poisoned male had withstood her first attack, but lay on the ground, dazed by the gas.

Without showing any signs of aggression, the unharmed male came close to her. In a tender and brutal gesture, Salandit stroked his cheek. With her claws, she scratched his face bloody while doing so.

"Co-rry--hu-rry-up!"

Salandit heard her mistress's muffled voice. She didn't understand the words but knew their meaning.

Also, her sinister competitor invaded Salandit's mind and conveyed her emotions. The shapeshifter was impatient and annoyed. Salandit repressed her rising anger. One day she would turn the hierarchy between the two of them upside down! Now, it was time to vent her anger. She turned back to the Rattata, knowing it was time to end the hunt – and start the slaughter.