Today, Trix was disguised as Eevee: an elegant, four-legged Pokémon with brown fur and beautiful eyes. As far as Sal knew, it enjoyed great popularity among the rich and famous. Owning one was a status symbol. The Pokémon itself wasnt that strong, it was rarely seen in fights and mainly used for breeding purposes.
All that didn't matter to Sal. In her daydreams, she too owned an Eevee. In her daydreams, she too belonged to the rich and famous, was free from worries and able to enjoy the comforts that such lifestyle offered. Reality, however, was different. For as long as Sal could remember, poverty and misery had the orphan girl in tight embrace, refusing to let her go.
"Whatever the cost. We must get stronger," Sal thought. "We must get away from all this. Only then can we do what we want and not what someone else is telling us. No pedestal, no nuns, and no shitty Guillaume!"
Sal heard an anxious squeal. A few meters away from her, two Rattatas jumped out of a hole in the ground. They were in a state of panic and disappeared into another mountain of garbage at record speed. With a few seconds of delay, Salandit crawled out of the same hole as the rodents. Sal’s Pokémon licked its bloody muzzle with relish.
"There you are again," Sal grinned. She leaned forward and stroked Salandit's leathery skin. The female Pokémon playfully nibbled on Sal's hand, extremely pleased with herself.
"Who’s my fine girl? YOU’RE my fine girl!" Sal exclaimed overly enthusiastic. "Took your time, eh? Had to kick out some bums, yeah? Played a bit of gendarmerie down there, hu?"
For a bit, Sal fooled around with Salandit and Trix but soon got serious again. Her childlike joy gave way to a critical glance, wandering over the Colosseum.
"All right. Corry, you've already found the perfect hiding place," Sal said, darting her eyes back to the hole from where her Pokémon emerged a while ago.
“Stay close to the opening, okay? When it’s time, you rush out; catch our opponent on the wrong foot. We'll lure him into position before, business as usual. Poison, fire, smoke - the whole package. Trix, you're hiding over there."
Sal pointed to some rotten planks leaning against a metal scaffolding,
"You’ll take care of the surroundings from your hiding spot. Be careful not to disturb Corry! Always remember: We attack the back! Wait till you’re in behind, or when you see another opportunity to hit critical. Go where it hurts the most. Spooky's gonna come from the shadows. Torture our opponents, confusing ‘em, putting them to sleep, making em freeze in fear or doin some good ol' poisoning. Whatever floats the boat. Any questions?"
She felt a sense of approval about her mental connection with Trix. The shapeshifter looked up, eyes wide open.
"How I wish you could talk, girl. I'm sure you'd have a lot to tell, wouldn’t you?" Sal murmured with a grin. She enjoyed fighting - and winning - against other trainers. Most of them were small fish, anyways. Or at least small enough to be defeated by her. Sal's more or less impressive record of overwhelming victories was mostly possible due to her awareness and careful planning.
On one hand, she made an effort to choose only battles she was sure to win. On the other, her battling style differed from the fair and square one-on-one battles her opponents were expecting. In conclusion, most trainers she fought didn’t know what hit them after Sal's team started their coordinated attack.
Twice a week, challengers had the chance to fight Guillaume in his arena to win the Street Badge. Sal thought it was a clever move, since it meant more business and less waiting for the day. Also, it helped Guillaume to build his reputation in a slow and steady manner.
Reputation was important - as were connections. Nowadays, Sal was widely known by the name “Ghost”. Most inhabitants in the dumps knew she meant danger and avoided to meddle in her affairs. Sal took pride in her reputation, though she was sure it wouldn't prevent desperate thieves from stealing her stuff if given the sightest chance. Only Guillaume, some of his henchmen, and her somewhat closer companions like Henri and Paul still called her by her real name.
During her time in the dumps, Sal had built up a small network of helpers and accomplices. A network, that required constant maintenance. It wasn’t uncommon for Sal to roam through the dumps when she was lucky enough to have excess food. Her plan was to distribute it where she sensed an advantage for herself. One good turn deserved another. It was not by coincidence that young and weak-looking trainers were usually sent to Sal’s fighting spot.
This was also the case for the trainer, who appeared before her now. He was in thickly wrapped clothes and looked more like a boy than a man. One glimpse was enough for Sal to tell her visitor was well off. He probably spent the cold winter in a warm and cozy house, only caring about the question which delicious meal would be on his plate next.
Sal suppressed a smirk. She was sure: it hadn't been too long since he was allowed to train Pokémon. Under the reign of King Dominique d'Arnauld, reaching the age of 18 was the first of many requirements to obtain a license to become a Pokémon Trainer.
“Well, at least for those fools, who follow the laws,” she thought.
"Hi, I'm Michael and I'm here for the Street Badge. Can you tell me where I find Gym Leader Guillaume?"
The young man beamed at Sal with a bright smile. His voice was smooth as butter.
"A spoiled brat that wants to be seen as someone he's not. I'm sure he never struggled, never fought for his life even once. He’s soft." Something about him ticked Sal off. Was it his overly friendly personality? Or was she simply jealous of a life she never had? Anyway, it didn't matter. Sal had already decided to teach him a valuable lesson about living in the real world. One, he wouldn't be able to forget. She humbled herself, gave Michael an innocent smile and tied to look a little smaller than she was. From the beginning on, Trix had put an illusion over Sal's face to hide the burn scars and dye her trainer's hair red.
"Are you a Pokémon Trainer?" Sal spoke admiringly. Her flawless performance brought forth a proud smile on Michael's face.
"Yes, I am an actual trainer. Licensed and registered by the League. You know, not everyone can do that."
Sal resisted the strong impulse to roll her eyes.
"Wow! That's so exciting! Can I see your Pokémon, please? I LOVE Pokémon!" She blinked at him in a happy manner and lowered her voice. "If you show me, I can bring you to the arena."
"You know where the arena is?!" Michael exclaimed. "No one wanted to tell me yet. Two old guys sent me here and told me to search for…" A hint of surprise appeared on his face. “You are the girl they were talking about, aren’t you!? The guide!”
Sal glanced furtively to the left and right.
"Maybe I am," Sal admitted shyly. She pointed to a spot close to him. "Well, it depends."
"On what?"
"If you can show them or not," Sal giggled with playful demeanour. Michael pushed his jacket up a bit and revealed a belt with three Poké Balls attached. He grinned broadly.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"Don't worry, they're quite tame." He pushed the button of a Poké Ball. A red beam appeared and brought forth a Pokémon, reminiscent of a rabbit.
"That's Bunnelby!"
Bunnelby was maybe half a meter tall, Sal guessed. Confused, it gazed his surroundings but seemed happy to be with his trainer. Michael opened his second ball.
"Shelmet," Michael continued, as a Pokémon – similar in size to Bunnelby – appeared. Shelmet reminded Sal of a snail. A particularly large snail. With a pinkish-green colored body. Only its long mouth and a glimpse of his eyes were clearly visible, the rest of Shelmets bodybwas hidden in a strange mix of snail shell and helmet. Michael called both Pokémon back into their balls. Then he freed his last Pokémon.
"And, of course, my starter! Skiddo, it's showtime!"
Skiddo was almost twice as tall as the other two. It stood on four strong legs, had small antlers on its head and a grass-green collar that contrasted with the white ornaments on the brown fur.
"If Skiddo is his starter, it's certainly his strongest. Like Trix is for me," Sal thought.
"Can I pet it?"
"It is a he," Michael corrected with a smug smile. He ran his hands over Skiddo’s fur. "And he is a good boy. You can give it a try, if you want."
Sal copied his movement. As soon as she touched the Pokémon's soft fur, she felt Haunter leaving her shadow. Sal's eyes met Michael's. Her lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Well, Michael," Sal chirped happily. Her voice carried a sarcastic note. Michael frowned, surprised by the sudden change in attitude.
"You wanna see Guillaume, you gotta pass me first. 'Cause I..." She paused for a second.
"I am Ghost."
As if possessed by someone else, her naive friendliness gave way to a manic expression. Like storm clouds, a dark aura spread around Sal, whose pale face lost its contour. Blood began to drip from her mouth and eyes, which had changed their color from blue to milky-white. Her hands turned into grotesque claws, and her grin revealed sharp-edged teeth.
[https://i.imgur.com/W9O35YA.jpg]
The transformation was sudden and caught Michael by surprise. His eyes widened in horror. In a panic, he stumbled backward and fell on his bottom, unable to take the eyes off the bizarre creature in front of him.
While Trix weaved the illusion around Sal, Haunter initiated the attack. With a cackle he emerged from behind his victim and licked him with his ghostly tongue.
Skiddo shivered and started bleating. He froze in fear, as he noticed, he was unable to move. Unable to defend himself against the surprise attack. An inner fear had taken control of Skiddo, who succumbed. He felt completely paralyzed, frozen in fear.
"You thought it’d be easy, yeah? Barging in my home like that," Sal sneered.
Haunter was relentless. He covered Skiddo's head with a gaseous substance. A cloud of dark-green and purple energy emerged from the ground and swallowed Skiddo whole, attacking the Pokémon with the might of a thousand little pinpricks. Each one injected a small poisonous dose, further weakening him.
"Shit! It's a poison cloud!" Michael remarked, coming back to his senses. "Skiddo, fight back!"
"As if Skiddo hadn't figured that out himself," Sal thought in spite.
"Spooky, use bad thoughts!"
Haunter cackled eerily. His eyes lit up. Tendrils, dark and purple, emerged from the ground and grabbed Skiddo. A disembodied force, capable of turning the primal fears of Haunter's enemies against themselves. It was an attack, that Haunter had learned from Trix.
Skiddo began to move. He kicked around with his backhooves, only to hit air.
In addition to the tendrils, orbs of the same colours appeared in Skiddo’s vicinity and shot at him like pistol bullets, causing pain with every impact they made. Skiddo bleated in pain. It was dazed, lethargic. His breathing was uneven.
"STOP!" Michael screamed. Immediately, he called back his Pokémon. Within seconds, Skiddo was damaged more badly than ever before. Michael was seething with rage. His head was red like a ripe tomato.
"What's your fucking point?! Where’s your gamesmanship? Do you have any idea what you just did? Skiddo was practically defenseless!" he yelled at Sal. His voice was with tense.
"Round one of three," she replied mockingly, "... if you want to keep fighting, that is."
"I'll show you!" Michael spat out. "Let's go, Bunnelby! Crash them!"
The rabbit-like Pokémon appeared. Anger was written all over its face.
"Did you know that attacks from Ghost-type Pokémon can't do anything against Normal-types?" Michael asked, half-angry, half-malicious.
"He actually thinks he can win," Sal thought in amazement. It was true that some of Haunter's moves didn't work against certain Pokémon. However, this phenomenon did not apply to all his attacks.
"Bunnelby!" / "Corry!"
Michael and Sal shouted at the same time.
"Don't look Haunter in the eye--" While Michael was instructing his Pokémon, Salandit darted out of her hiding place. From behind she lunged at Bunnelby. Fiery claws dug deep into it's flesh. Salandit sank her sharp teeth into her surprised opponent's neck. In the same move, she released the toxic liquid from her venomous sacs and caused severe damage to Bunnelby's throat. She ignited the mark that ran down her spine, scorching her victim's fur.
Bunnelby squealed in agony and in horror. Bunnelby jumped into the air, over and over again. Like a Tauros who wanted to throw off a matador. In order not to lose her grip, Salandit sank her teeth deeper into Bunnelby's neck. On his third attempt, Bunnelby broke free by shaking Salandit off his body. There was a deep wound on his neck and parts of his fur had turned dark. Suddenly, dark and purple tendrils attacked Bunnelby with malicious energy. While Salandit was orienting herself, Haunter didn't let his opponent rest and started to make his move.
"BUNNELBY! NO!" Michael screamed, his voice hoarse.
Sneeringly, Haunter continued to torture his already weakened victim. The dark and purple orbs that had finished off Skiddo reappeared. In a quick motion, Sal raised a hand. Immediately, the orbs disappeared. Bunnelby squealed miserably and slumped to the ground. His limbs twitched uncontrollably.
"Spooky, Corry," Sal said sharply. Salandit broke off her new attack and rushed over. Pleased with her performance, she rubbed her body against Sal's shoes, greedy for praise and attention. Haunter, however, did not. His brief moment of hesitation was prolonged. Instead of returning to Sal, he observed Bunnelby, who lay miserably on the ground. A hungry glint shimmered in Haunter's eyes.
"Spooky! Stop!” Sal scolded loud and sharp. Haunter turned towards Sal. It was clear that he was not happy with this development at all.
"AWAY FROM HIM!" shouted Michael, running towards Bunnelby's unconscious body. He hugged the injured Pokémon. Tears ran down his cheeks. "Everything will be all right, my little one. I'll take you to the doctor. He'll get you back in shape in no time, okay? Don't worry, everything will be fine."
Haunter laughed sharply.
Trix, still disguised as Eevee, appeared at Sal's side. Her gaze pierced Haunter. Dark and purple orbs rose from the ground around the ghost-type.
"I won't say it again!" Sal hissed at her rebellious Pokémon in a quiet but firm voice. After a long second of deliberation, Haunter stopped his actions and leisurely floated back to Sal. As if nothing had happened.
"Do you give up? Or do you wanna continue our little brawl?" Sal turned to Michael, who still held Bunnelby's body in his arms. He raised his head and looked at her apathetically.
"You're going to regret that." His voice was so quiet that Sal found it difficult to understand him. Still, she got the gist.
"Yeah, sure. Fire will rain on me and lightning will strike me from the sky. Your father’s a bigh shot and will persecute me 'til I die. Been there, done that, heard it all before. You weren’t the first and you won't be the last."
Sal spat on the floor.
"I know your type. Just give me your money and fuck off. That's how you do it, isn't it? A little stake before the fight and the winner takes it, hu? It's just – things are a little different here. Down in the dumps, it’s all or nothing. Now... give me your money!"
Sal pointed in Haunter's direction. The Ghost's eyes flashed dangerously.
"I won't repeat myself again!"
Reluctantly, Michael reached into his jacket. He pulled two bills from his wallet, crumpled them into a ball, and threw them at Sal's feet. Her eyes narrowed to slits.
"You kidding me? Unless you wanna make acquaintance with Spooky, you'd better give me your wallet. Got it?!"
Michael took a deep breath. He grabbed his Poké Ball and called Bunnelby back. His hateful eyes met Sal, who returned the gaze. A muffled sound told her that Michael had thrown his wallet at her feet. She grinned in content.
"See? It wasn't that hard at all."
The grin disappeared from her face and she turned her gaze to the side. In a dismissive gesture, she waved her hand in Michael's direction. As if she wanted to chase away an annoying fly.
"And now... buzz off."