Chapter 34.5: A Day in the Life of... Gastly?

Ghost Types didn't need to sleep. They could, but it wasn't truly necessary. Due to their nature as less-than-physical beings, Ghost Types could stay awake for days on end and only feel somewhat exhausted.

This held true for most species, or at least, the species that mattered. For Gastly, all he cared about was that the fact was true for him—he only slept once or twice a week because of a very important reason:

The period just after midnight was completely and utterly his.

The witching hour was the time of night in which certain species thrived. Diurnal Pokémon were all deep in slumber, which gave everyone else free reign to do whatever they wanted. Ghost and Dark Types were the prevalent species during the witching hour, and Gastly was proud to consider himself among that group.

The fallen tower he used to dwell in was crowded. He only ever got a chance to glimpse Ecruteak City. If he ever wanted to head out, he would have risked losing the space he had claimed to be his own. Now that he had a trainer, not only was he being escorted across the entire world, but he was also being trained! Gastly was strong, and he could fend for himself.

Floating in this darkened Pokémon Center bedroom, Gastly glanced down at where Sam slept. The sounds of soft snores filled the air as the boy pulled Cyndaquil close to his chest. In her own rest, she nuzzled into him while her back occasionally popped with sparks, an unconscious response to her dreams. Behind her, the occasional bit of ash sat on the bed, turning part of the white sheets black.

Both of them were far too busy being asleep to notice if Gastly temporarily stepped away. He had a city to explore! Darkness to make use of!

He wanted to experience the world, but as he moved to phase through a nearby wall, a snort stopped him before he could go.

Mankey stared at Gastly through his reflection on a tabletop mirror. Gastly wasn’t alone in his wakefulness—the little monkey used this time to practice without being disturbed. Late at night, the Fighting Type would stare at his reflection for hours on end, practicing his expression. It was as if he needed to fight to keep his anger down when he saw another member of his species.

Gastly had been too caught up in his own plans to think about the angry ball of fur. Mankey’s eye bore into Gastly, and Gastly briefly debated phasing through the wall anyway.

However, Mankey didn’t call him out. He rolled his eyes and waved Gastly off.

They were accomplices for this matter—neither of them were supposed to be up this late at night.

Gastly quietly whispered his name to say he’d be back within the hour before disappearing into the next room over. He made sure to send a thankful wink to the monkey as he vanished into the wall.

This room contained the team’s traveling companions—the girl and her two Pokémon. Redi laid splayed on the bed, with Teddiursa laying across her stomach. Her sheets were in disarray and miscellaneous gear had been thrown across the room. Above her, Porygon floated and stared down. Gastly wasn’t sure if that Pokémon needed sleep. He wasn’t sure if it could sleep in the first place.

But, this was a brief stop before he headed out, and he absolutely had to check. Silently floating forward, he moved to place himself behind that incomprehensible Pokémon.

After taking a moment to prepare himself, Gastly popped out and forced his eyeballs out of his head with his tongue sticking out for a scare.

Unfortunately, there was no reaction from the emotionless Porygon. The Pokémon remained staring down at its trainer.

Annoyed, Gastly huffed, and he feigned leaving the room before popping back in front of Porygon for another attempt at a scare. The floating Normal Type didn’t even bother to glance at him. Its gaze was firmly locked onto the bed.

Finding the reaction boring, Gastly wasn’t willing to try for a third attempt, so he moved on. He had hoped to be the one to finally stir a reaction out of that creature, but he was fine with just leaving it alone.

Gastly made sure to follow the Pokémon Center’s hallways instead of simply passing through the wall to head outside. His concern wasn’t any other trainers, rather, he couldn’t risk angering the Pokémon Center’s local ghostly guard.

A shadow stirred against the ceiling as Gastly floated downstairs. Two red eyes peered out, and Gastly kept low to show his deference to the powerful Pokémon.

The Gengar let its cruel grin appear beneath its eyes before it faded back away into mundane darkness. Its role here was to ensure Ghost Types—wild or not—did not prey on unsuspecting trainers. That was why Gastly let himself be seen in the hallway, so that the Gengar wouldn’t stop him when he came back.

Although, he did rush out a bit quicker after that encounter. It wasn’t that he was scared, it was just that he was...

His face tinted ever so slightly.

Jealous?

Him?

No, that couldn’t be possible. Gengar was Gengar. Gastly was Gastly. He’d figure out how to hide in a shadow.

Eventually.

The cold nighttime air hit Gastly’s body, and the dim, yellow-orange glow of streetlights lit up the Goldenrod street before him. The countless windows that covered the faces of the nearby buildings were all dark and unused. To the common observer, the city felt utterly empty.

Gastly was not the common observer.

Parades of Rattata marched down the sidewalks, keeping themselves tight against the walls to hide their presence in darkness. A lone Raticate peered out from an alley, watching the train and quietly chittering advice to the fellow members of its swarm.

Above, the pitch-black sky hid Murkrow that searched for shiny objects to add to their collections. A rare Ghost Type joined them, and a single Noctowl silently flew over all of the rest.

It was practically bustling out here, although there was a distinct lack of humans. For Gastly himself, he took inspiration from the two disparate groups and kept high against the wall to ensure no one would notice him or pay him any mind.

Following building after building, he explored the city, peering into its oft-ignored nooks and crannies for all the little things no one else ever saw. This served as both a tour and a hunt.

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This was his hour. He would not let it pass by uneventfully.

He found what he was looking for soon enough, as a clatter followed by loud barks rang out from an alley.

Grin stretching across his face, Gastly drifted over. Beneath him, a red-snouted hound—a Houndour—furiously barked at a shaking trash can. Its metallic ringing and clanging provided the perfect distraction to let Gastly move in.

The Houndour was far too preoccupied with its barking to notice Gastly lowering himself into the alley. He let his body phase to near etherealness, making him seem like he wasn’t all of the way there.

For several seconds, Gastly lingered. He savored this moment the best he could.

Then, he cleared his throat. The Houndour turned around.

Gastly hit it with the most terrifying Mean Look he could manage.

Immediately, the hound yipped out of fear and scurried backwards, its head being brought to the ground. It stumbled as Gastly’s red eyes bore down on it, but it never got too far away. What made this scare even funnier was that Mean Look prevented the dog from fleeing.

Fearful whines filled the alley as Gastly’s laughter echoed around him. Next to him, two tiny heads poked out of the trashcan—both yellow and tipped with pointed ears.

The twin Pichu, the targets of Houndour’s verbal assault, hopped onto the trashcan’s rim and glanced between the gleeful Gastly and the terrified Houndour. In unison, they joined Gastly’s laughter, pointing at the terrified dog and clutching their stomachs.

The Houndour—a Dark Type usually not to be trifled with—finally realized what had happened. It brought its head up, growling, glaring at both Gastly and the two Electric Types menacingly. Flames licked up around its mouth, and Gastly stopped. He had seen Cyndaquil practice enough to know what was going to happen next.

He fled. He rushed out of the alley, zipping back to the main street. The Houndour chased after him as the two Pichu hopped back into their trash can. Ember hit the nearby walls, and the Houndour effectively roared.

“Cut it out!”

A window slammed open. A greasy man leaned out and glared. The Houndour growled and stopped attacking. When it looked back at the street, Gastly was already gone.

He held back his snickers as the Houndour peered around, trying to find him. Gastly positioned himself just behind a streetlight to let the glow hide his form. Eventually, the dog gave up and moved back into the alley, apparently intending to go after those two Pichu instead. Unfortunately for it, Gastly was sure they were already gone. He hadn’t just managed to scare the dog, he had managed to completely ruin its night!

Gastly chuckled quietly to himself and looked up and down the street.

That was fun. He didn’t want to let up just yet.

Searching for another victim, he found a target just a handful of city blocks away. A dizzy-looking man struggled to stay upright as he stared into a shop’s window, watching television replay the nightly news.

“...was successful in closing the warehouse. Subsequent investigations found nearly a third of the retrieved Pokémon had been poached illegally, while another third after that had no official documentation...”

Gastly was still a bit annoyed that Mankey had seen him through a mirror. If there was ever a chance to practice, it was right here and now.

Like what he had done against the Houndour, Gastly silently approached the man from above and behind. He had to focus to maintain the effect, but In the window, his reflection didn’t appear. However, there was still an obvious disturbance in the air.

It took a full minute for the man to notice the unnatural shift. He seemed to notice it out of the corner of his eye, blinked, and then checked again.

Gastly was quick. When the man snapped his head around, he rushed upwards. No one ever looked upwards.

“...Hello?” the man called out, gaze flicking about the street. “Anyone... there?”

His voice slurred as he wobbled in place. No one else was around, so the man shrugged and turned back to the television.

Gastly was right there.

The girlish scream didn’t quite match the man’s burly body. Gastly laughed and laughed and laughed and disappeared up into the night sky. Behind him, strings of words he had never heard before left the man’s mouth. Just in case, he committed them to memory. Perhaps he could involve them in some sort of Confuse Ray illusion?

Moving higher into the sky, the streets became darkened lines that criss-crossed Goldenrod City. Skyscrapers attempted to chase after him, but they were too immobile to reach the same heights.

Gastly let himself levitate above it all and take it all in.

He saw parks.

He saw taxis.

He saw the nearby forest.

He saw a plume of smoke coming from a building he had explored just a few short days ago.

Gastly wasn’t sure how long he let himself hang in the sky, but when it came to Ghost Types, they were famously able to wait a long time. It could be weeks, months, or even years until anything of interest entered a Ghost Type’s territory. He, like so many others, was capable of staying in one place with little to do.

But a deep, shuddering breath suddenly overtook him. It wasn’t a yawn—he was not tired. He was just... bored. Homesick?

Taking a few minutes to figure out where he ended up, Gastly quickly located the Pokémon Center thanks to its neon sign. Rushing downwards, he reached the street and phased through its glass front doors, which automatically opened up behind him.

The on-duty nurse glanced around to see who had entered, but Gastly remained hidden in the ceiling and sneaked over to head upstairs.

He followed the hallways back to Sam’s room. Along the way, he kept an eye out for that Gengar, but the evolved Pokémon never appeared. His eyes felt heavy as he reached his trainer’s temporary bedroom, upon which he phased through the door.

Gastly paused. Red eyes curved up into a mocking smile against the back wall. Sam sat on the bed, his arms crossed, staring right at Gastly, unaware of the Ghost Type behind him.

Gastly was experiencing far too many emotions to let any appear on his face. That Gengar sold him out! It subtly woke up Sam after Gastly had left.

Mankey at least proved to be trustworthy once again, as the Fighting Type was feigning slumber on the Pokémon Center desk. The problem was the very conscious Sam, the boy’s stern look, and the judgmental Leer Cyndaquil sent his way.

“Gastly,” Sam said, a frown on his face. “You left?”

There was something about the lack of sharpness to Sam’s tone. His words almost sounded hurt. Upset.

“When I woke up, you were gone. I thought...” Sam breathed in. “I thought you decided to leave.”

Gastly wasn’t able to look the boy in the eye.

“I... Why did you head out? I don’t want to trap you. I don’t want to force you to do anything. If you don’t like being here—”

Gastly snapped out his name. That absolutely was not the case.

He sighed; Gastly had first come to be inside the Burned Tower. He had stayed there for who knows how long, having practically nothing to do. Most of the other ghosts were fun, but some of the older ones were a bit stringent. He was limited. He couldn’t really leave. He could only ever dream of actually heading out and seeing the rest of the world.

When Sam’s Gym Trial caused the noises of a battle to echo from upstairs, of course Gastly had to investigate.

Not once did he expect to get punched in the face, and not once did he expect to be thrust into a Pokéball. But, once he was inside of it, he realized this was his chance, and he let himself relax alongside the cleansing feeling that he had felt beside him.

Gastly didn’t want to leave Sam’s side. He didn’t want to be on his own again. He might not have had any grand ambition like everyone else on the team, but he wanted to see what the world had to offer alongside everyone else.

Sam took it all in, patiently nodding along. However, it was obvious that the boy couldn’t speak Pokémon.

When Gastly was done, Sam glanced at Cyndaquil, who gestured to try to elaborate on what Gastly had said.

“Ah!” A light of understanding entered Sam’s eyes. A small smile crept onto his face. “You just want to explore. See the world, huh?”

Gastly’s usual grin returned. A faint cackle left his mouth.

“Alright. I won’t get mad. This was a bit of a miscommunication. I should have talked to you more in the past,” Sam said. “However—”

His stern tone returned.

“In the future, tell me before you leave. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I don’t want you to get lost. There’s... there’s a lot out there, alright? Especially at this time of night.”

A shudder went through Sam, but Gastly didn’t miss the poorly hidden smile that appeared alongside it.

He floated closer, and Sam reached out to affectionately pat his head.

“Once we get more Pokémon with us, maybe I can assign partners. Or... Hm. Maybe we could schedule something so I can go with you?”

Gastly’s eyes widened as he looked up at Sam. Now that was an idea. He personally wasn’t great at coming up with new plans for scares, but that was what having a Pokémon trainer was all about!

Having that kind of strategic mind at his disposal—

Oh, Gastly was already smiling at the thought of everything he could get up to.

Without missing a beat, Gastly nodded to show just how much he wanted that. Sam laughed and pulled back from his Pokémon.

“Sounds like a plan, Gastly,” he said, a yawn leaving his mouth. “But how about we go to sleep for now? We can figure something out for another night.”

Sam laid back on the bed as Cyndaquil pressed herself into the nook formed by his arm. Gengar had already disappeared, likely taking the chance during that discussion to vanish from the room.

“Go to sleep, Gastly. I know Ghost Types don’t have to rest all the time, but sleeping still helps to keep you healthy.”

Gastly definitely didn’t yawn, but he did inhale deeply for no particular reason. Drifting downwards, he let his body hit the soft, downy mattress while Sam closed his eyes to sleep.

The room was quiet. The only sound was that of soft breathing. Mankey peeked open an eye to give Gastly a respectful tilt of the head before rolling over to sleep, himself.

Gastly’s eyes were heavy. Sam was right in that he didn’t need to sleep, but he was also right in that he probably should. Before he drifted off into unconsciousness, however, he thought back to his old home with a single question.

The Burned Tower was occupied. He hadn’t been the only ghost there. The older ones—the human ones, not the Pokémon ones—Gastly had to wonder what they would think of him and Sam right now.