A silence followed, one that cut deep into my ears. I felt all the strength draining from my fingers as they gripped the Pokédex. Lindsay. The girl I liked, and in the depths of my soul, perhaps even loved. My best friend was dead. We had known each other forever. Just recently, we'd been on the phone; she sounded so excited when she told me she'd been selected for an internship in the Safari Zone in Fuchsia City, where she was going to focus on law.
I felt as if the world had stopped. I couldn't believe it. Though the Professor's voice was coming from the Pokédex, I didn't register a single word. Haunter was screaming at me too—the only one on my team who knew what Lindsay meant to me. He gesticulated with his claws in front of my face, and after a moment, Houndour joined him, beginning to nuzzle against me with a whimper.
Squirtle just stood silently nearby. It started to rain, even though the sun was still shining. The drops hit the ground like heavy marbles, but strangely, I didn't feel any rain on my head. It took a moment to realize they were my own tears. That was when the shock finally broke.
"Patrik! Patrik!" Professor Oak shouted into the device.
"Y-yes..." I rasped in response.
"Where are you?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice.
"How did she die?"
"Where are you? I'll tell you in person," he replied gravely.
"In front of Mount Moon, by the Pokémon Center," I answered. I knew he was stubborn and wouldn't tell me anything else over the phone.
"...for you, in two hours."
"What?" I asked again. I had completely missed what he said.
"Alakazam will come for you. In two hours," Oak repeated calmly.
"Fine," I replied. I felt as if the world had suddenly gone monochrome, as if it had lost all its color. The Professor was still saying something, but I was already holding the Pokédex down by my leg, so I couldn't hear him. I ended the call.
Immediately, I began packing up our small training camp. Houndour tried to help, but he mostly just got under my feet. Squirtle put out the fire, and Haunter explained something to them in a low voice. I didn't notice them.
Once packed, I set off at a jog. From the start, they ran beside me with solemn expressions. Squirtle didn't complain, stubbornly trying to keep pace. Thanks to the fast tempo, we were back at the Pokémon Center within an hour. I headed straight for the shower while the others waited for me in the room, patient and silently supportive. They didn't rush me, even though I knew they were hungry after training.
With a sigh, I rubbed my red, swollen, and tear-stained eyes and stepped out of the bathroom just as God made me. I pulled clean clothes from my bag, and once I was ready, we headed to the dining hall. As Nurse Joy had mentioned, the dining area was quite austere, both in terms of food selection and size. Fortunately, there was no one there except for two trainers, so I had some privacy with my team. The two guys looked at me when I arrived but otherwise quietly minded their own business.
I had absolutely no appetite, so I at least gave my Pokémon a generous helping. They dug in immediately, as if they hadn't eaten in a week. When I offered them their usual dose of Iron and Calcium after the meal, they swallowed them without protest.
Afterward, I went to wait for the Professor's Alakazam. I was still in shock, but in the back of my mind, I was starting to hope the Professor was simply wrong. Lindsay couldn't be dead. It didn't make sense. The Safari in Fuchsia City was supposed to be safe, especially for a lawyer. She wasn't even supposed to be near the Pokémon... at least not the dangerous ones. Besides, the specimens there were relatively more peaceful than those in the true wild.
"Yeah, he must be wrong," I muttered under my breath with hope. "She's definitely alive."
Exactly as promised, after two hours, the Professor's Alakazam appeared. Without a word, he nodded toward my Pokémon. I quickly recalled them into their Poké Balls, except for Haunter. Then Alakazam took my hand, and in a second, I found myself in a familiar room.
We were in his private office in the laboratory near the villa. This time, the Professor wasn't waiting for me behind his desk as before. He was sitting in an armchair with slumped shoulders, his eyes swollen from fatigue, wearing a white lab coat splattered with blood. As soon as I appeared, he stood up and walked toward me. Looking at him, I painfully realized I had only been lying to myself. Lindsay was truly dead.
Tears began to flow again. He gripped my shoulders firmly with both hands and spoke softly: "It's going to be alright, Patrik."
We stood there like that for a while, but then he sat me down in the chair. Alakazam vanished without a word and reappeared a moment later with a bottle of Golden Tropius and two glasses. This time, it wasn't the fifty-four percent Reserve, but the sixty-two percent Premium. Alakazam expertly opened the bottle with psychokinesis and poured for us. Then he levitated the glasses directly into our hands.
I didn't wait and downed it in one go. It burned my throat, but this time I didn't cough. I savored that painful burn; it was pleasant compared to the psychological torment I felt inside. When I placed the glass on the table, Alakazam immediately refilled it. I felt the Professor's heavy gaze on me. I was gathering the courage to ask what had actually happened.
Professor Oak was giving me space to process it. He slowly sipped from his glass and waited for my question. When I finally found the nerve, I asked directly: "What happened?"
"A group of lawyers and interns went into the Safari. They spoke with the warden and the staff... eventually, the decision was made to take the interns through a safer part of the zone, where there weren't supposed to be any strong or aggressive Pokémon," he paused and exhaled heavily. "Someone from Team Rocket tried to kidnap a Kangaskhan. But it fought back. It was winning and drove them deeper into the Safari, right into that peaceful section. There was an Electrode there... the Kangaskhan hit it and threw it directly toward a herd of Tauros. The Electrode instinctively exploded, injuring several of them. It triggered a wild, terrified stampede of the entire herd... several workers died, a few lawyers, and some interns. Lindsay was among them."
So Lindsay died because of Team Rocket. Those sons of bitches.
The Professor must have seen what was playing out in my head. "Revenge won't solve anything, Patrik. We're already looking for them..."
Revenge might not solve anything, but I'll certainly feel better with my boot on some Rocketeer's throat. Of course, I didn't say that out loud.
"What were you doing there?" I brought up. I was a little curious, but mostly I wanted to change the subject.
"I'm the main sponsor of the Kanto Safari. I've sent a few Pokémon there myself; I'm one of the primary contacts," he answered honestly. "As soon as I got the news about the rampage, I headed there with my team and tried to help however I could."
"Was it quick?" Even before he answered, I knew he was going to lie. Just by the way he looked away toward the door.
"Yes, very quick. She didn't feel a thing," he spoke falsely. The Professor was not a good liar.
"The truth, Professor," I requested sharply, my eyes wet.
He looked at me for a moment, then downed his glass and spoke: "A Tauros gored her on its horn and dragged her through the Safari for a while. When she fell off, the herd trampled her." He immediately took another sip from the glass Alakazam had refilled and continued: "She died on the way to the hospital. Even if they had saved her, she would never have walked again, and her lung capacity would have been halved," he concluded sadly.
A deathly silence filled the room. The alcohol burned in my stomach like liquid fire, but my fingers were completely numb and trembling; I felt empty. As if nothing mattered anymore. I imagined how she must have suffered—gored on a Tauros's horn, dragged along by the herd, and just when she should have been safe, crushed by a frenzied mass of bodies. And all because some bastards wanted a rare Pokémon.
"And those Rockets? Where are they?" I broke the silence after a few minutes.
"We're looking for them. They were masked in hoods and had a Kadabra that teleported them away as soon as their attempt went south."
"Any identifying marks?"
"Don't be a fool, Patrik. Your team is weak. Stay away from Team Rocket," he commanded sternly.
"Of course, Professor. I'm only asking for identifying marks so I know specifically which ones to avoid," I replied with a fake smile, running a hand through my overgrown hair.
He shook his head in disapproval. "Honestly? We know absolutely nothing."
"How is that possible?!" I shouted bitterly. "Several people are dead and you know nothing?"
"Calm down," he replied in a low voice. "I understand you, but anger solves nothing." He saw I wanted to object, so he continued: "They were professionals. They jammed the anti-teleportation fields in advance, slipped in, and vanished via teleport. It was meant to be a clean job... but they underestimated the Kangaskhan."
Silence fell again. We were on another glass. The Professor watched me with a sad, melancholic look, while a massive thirst for revenge and violence boiled inside me.
"You remind me of myself when my son and his family died," he remarked quietly. "Revenge won't fill that hole in your heart."
"I don't plan on closing that hole, Professor," I answered in a whisper.
"Stubborn," he muttered tiredly under his breath. "I need to sleep now. Alakazam has prepared a room for you in the villa. Use whatever you want, take whatever you need. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon is the memorial at Lindsay's house," he informed me and began to stand up. With a fluid, practiced motion, he tossed back the rest of his glass and just let it drop toward the table.
Alakazam caught it in mid-air with his mind and quietly placed it on the wooden surface. The Professor left the office with slumped shoulders, slightly hunched. I sat there for a while longer. When I finished my drink, I felt myself getting more and more dazed. The alcohol was working, but anger and hatred still kept me conscious. Alakazam watched me but didn't pour anymore. Haunter hid in my shadow, giving me space.
After a while, I heavily stood up; I definitely didn't want to be in a useless state at Lindsay's memorial. "Could you teleport me to the room, please?" I asked Alakazam. I realized I was speaking slower, as if I were underwater, but at least I was articulating correctly.
Alakazam didn't answer. He simply appeared beside me, grabbed my hand, and in a split second, I was in a spacious room. He vanished before I could even say thank you. Instead of pulling myself together even a little before bed, I threw myself directly onto the bed in the clothes I had arrived in. The teleport made my stomach churn slightly. Before I finally fell asleep, my own mind tortured me, playing memories of Lindsay over and over through the heavy fog of alcohol. Should I have talked her out of that Safari? I vividly remembered her preparing food for my journey in the kitchen. Her smile on the bench by the sea in Pallet Town. Our kisses, hugs, goals, and dreams. Finally, I fell into a restless sleep.
***
I woke up just before noon with a silent scream, drenched in sweat. After a moment of panting, I realized it wasn't just a bad dream, but a disgusting reality. I was in Professor Oak's luxury guest room. I had no desire to admire the luxury; once, when I was cleaning here, I dreamed of what it would be like to sleep here... Now? I'd rather not even comment.
I heavily pulled myself up. My eyes burned, my temples throbbed, and I was completely parched. I went into the private bathroom to get myself together. After half an hour of showering and morning hygiene, I stepped out. A black mourning suit was already waiting for me on the bed, and near it, a short note from the Professor:
"Better to arrive sooner than later, Patrik. Everything will be alright. See you tonight."
With distaste, I started on the prepared meal. I thought for a moment about letting Squirtle and Houndour out, but time passed differently in a Poké Ball and I was sure they wouldn't be hungry, so I left it be. After eating, I quickly got dressed. However, I still had an hour to spare, so I went to sit by the water at our favorite spot in Pallet Town. It was a beautiful sunny day, and when I realized that Lindsay would never watch the sea from the bench with me again, the tears started once more. I didn't have a tissue, but I didn't care; I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.
I sat there for about half an hour, depressingly drowning in grief. My only company was Haunter, who kept watch over me. Perhaps he was even feeding on my emotions, but he didn't show it—he wasn't smiling; he was empathizing.
"Let's go, Haunter," I stood up from the bench. "It's time to say goodbye to Lindsay."
"Haunt, Haunter, Haunt, Haunter!" He paused for a moment and continued: "Haunt, Haunter, Haunt, haaaunt, Haunter!"
I didn't understand everything he meant exactly, but through the tears, I gave a bitter laugh. "You're right, death is just another adventure..." I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "Maybe she'll be some Gastly or Yamask who'll scare us in the future," I smirked.
"Haunt!" Haunter nodded with a small smile.
When we arrived at her house, the door was open. Various people were inside, both familiar and unknown. As soon as Lindsay's mother noticed me, she immediately hugged me with tears in her eyes. She looked devastated. She sobbed onto my suit from Oak, but I couldn't have cared less about the fabric. Tears were flowing from me just as they were from her. After a moment, she pulled away and spoke: "Thank you for coming." I could only manage a silent nod. She squeezed my hand gratefully and went back to the other guests.
Lindsay's photos from different periods were everywhere; I was in many of them. The one that hit me the most was where we were sitting together in first grade. Me, a grinning little first-grader with missing teeth and a primer in my hands, and Lindsay with pigtails and a Charmander-shaped hat. I had no desire to talk to former classmates or anyone else I knew. So I went upstairs to her room. I sat on the bed and, with tears flowing freely, watched more photos of us together scattered around the room.
"She was supposed to be safe as a lawyer, and in the end, she died sooner than me, a trainer," I thought helplessly.
Eventually, she would end up as ashes in the sea near Pallet Town. In the Pokémon world, it was customary to cremate the dead and scatter the ashes at their favorite places. Cemeteries did exist, but they weren't popular. The price for a grave site was astronomical—since people were concentrated in large cities, cemeteries took up precious space. And since most believed more in reconnecting with nature, cremation was the natural choice.
***
Author's note:
Poor Lindsay, what a nasty death. And it's all Team Rocket's fault…
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(8):
24. A World in Monochrome
25. The Stoic's Resolve
26. Claws in the Clearing
27. Into the Depths
28. The Grey Disciple
29. Echoes of Mt. Moon
30. Heavy Metal and Sudden Growth
32. Houndour: The Strength of the Pack
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