If you're a human, talk to the girl who is always standing outside the Pokémon Tower. The one girl who never ages, the one girl who is forever young (for twenty centuries if you really want to know), the one girl who asks you,"Do you believe in ghosts?"

The whole point is, she knows the legend known as Buried Alive, the white hand, the bleeding Pikachu, the people who were truly buried alive. The gravestone you're told to never touch, the one at the top of the tower. That's where the human skulls, commonly mistaken as Cubone skulls, lay, sometimes rolling when the white fingers flick them around.

I know too, about a legend in the Pokémon Tower. Not that same old same old that everyone already knows. But the one about a Shedinja named Shed.

I didn't know he existed at first. It happened when I woke up in front of the Pokémon Tower.

Just one second to midnight, I entered the Pokémon Tower as a shelter from the rain. Not that I hated the rain, but rather, I don't like the Pokémon that swarm under the grey clouds. You wouldn't want a nasty Hypno putting you to sleep and robbing you of all of your money, your Pokémon, your badges and Trainer ID, would you? Or cue the always teleporting Abra that would bring you into the most unimaginable realms you can imagine, from a dingy school hall to an abandoned village.

That wasn't the main problem now that I thought about it. When I first got into the Pokémon Tower, it was dimly lit with those ancient torches cavemen would have used, placed equidistantly on the walls that greeted me. Beside me was the counter, empty since no one ever dared to take on night shift. I could still remember vividly the cerulean blue glow in the almost-dark. He floated from behind the counter and up the stairs, not once looking back.

I will let you know that the scrawled "Shed is abandoned twenty centuries ago and now secretly stays in this tower" can still be seen even now, a secret shared by those who worked day shift, stepping on the words so no one could even see a single stroke of it.

Shed was a weird Pokémon. Unlike usual Shedinja, his eyes were red. Not rosy red to deceive random princesses like the fairytales but blood red, as if actual blood that the Gengar lurking in the corners would sip as late-afternoon tea. The blood was said to be contained in "teabags" designed by Shed himself, sold to the Pokémon, which was what he was doing at that very midnight.

Bags of fresh human blood hung on his body as he delivered them, knocking on gravestones as he passed. A few curious Cubone would often hold their club and tiptoe to ask him for one of those bags, preferably the blood type O, the rarest in humans, and the most costly "teabag". A look into his eye and these Cubone would have their skulls automatically thrown off their heads, their bodies disintegrating in the blink of an eye—even if one doesn't blink upon the sight, one could tell it was a quick disappearing act to be darkly impressed.

Which is to laugh, a little sadly, because even gravestones have their names engraved and their foul-smelling skeletons in the coffins.

Shed would then go over to the top of the tower to begin his job. The first step was to hunt for unsuspecting Gastly. Imagine Red Riding Hood's Mightyena, only that Shed was more cunning and innocent-looking. His eyes dart across the tongues of the Gastly, from left to right, and as the pair of red irises glowed, the tongue dropped off, much to the astonishment of the flinched Gastly. Blood was gushing like a waterfall, the tiny fangs of the Gastly stained with their blood, then tears, before the poor Pokémon sublimed into solid gravestones. No one ever questioned how the number of gravestones increased over the years.

A gust of wind would come from nowhere, and the low moans of Marowak would fill the place. A chorus of split notes from the Gengar and baby Gastly would resound as Haunter pleaded the Shedinja for mercy, only to lose their tongues as well.

Footsteps reverberated through the tower. A group of visitors had come.

"Trick or treat!" More like the yells of clueless children, twice every month, Halloween or not. And every time, it was the same thing, creating that deja vu feeling.

They would point at Shed, surprised. "Oh, isn't Shedinja a rare? Isn't it from Hoenn?" A step closer. They were warned about him, as news carried. But what pure and bubbling curiosity would not defy rules?

They met their demise. I wouldn't want to dig into the details because I will leave it to you to imagine how their hearts were dug out. Or how their fingernails and toenails were grated and collected as powder in jars hidden in the basement. Shed loved children. They brought him joy. Their cryogenically frozen hearts in the freezers near the seemingly endless shelves of stacked jars brought him joy. Their brain juice was collected and drunk by Shed, hoping to learn knowledge of the human world.

If I had seen all these, I wouldn't have been here telling you all this so rest assured. Just remind anyone and everyone of this devilish exoskeleton.

But the story doesn't end here.

|||||

If you're still reading, that's good. It means you have believed me that Shed does exist. If not, maybe you want to know if it was all a cock-and-Granbull story.

Fortunately, it's real. Now, that was for people living in Kanto or people who planned on visiting Kanto.

If you are a player, slot in your Fire Red or Leaf Green cartridge into your gameboy. The Red, Green, Blue GBC cartridges work well too. Then press A on the counter in the Pokémon Tower. What's next is go up all the way still you reach the flight of stairs where you had the Marowak encounter (or about to have) and press A on the nearest gravestone. Go up, just keep going straight. In front of the golden gravestone, click L + R quickly, six times. Turn the volume up to the maximum.

You can see how Shed swallows those tongues and blood whole then spit them out (whole) again. You can also hear the crunching of human and Cubone skulls when he bounces them with his head.

So listen up, as I have told you previously, Shed has been gaining knowledge from the brain juices he drank. It has been rumoured that he now stalks his prey, including players, and kill them. He could know their whereabouts—your whereabouts—if he drank your friend's brain juice. For players, they don't just die in-game. They die with their tongues gone, a pool of blood dripping from their open mouths, hands still clutching firmly onto their gameboys as if they were still alive.

Then the words, with wisps of smoke accompanying every graceful, deathly stroke: Welcome to the Death Parade. In smaller text: by My Lavender Ghost.

I wouldn't be playing with fire if I were you though. That vengeful exoskeleton wanted to get back at humans, especially his trainer, who only wanted Ninjask.

But it wouldn't hurt to try.

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Now that you have come to almost the end of this "story" and perhaps are walking toward Lavender Town in-game or right in Kanto, am I glad you are here. Have you spoke to the girl? You didn't divulge that secret, did you?

I hope you didn't. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Maybe I should tell you more. A story about a boy who was turned into a girl who had to stay forever young, a curse placed by Shed. That would take a long time but hey, I summarised it for you.

Rumours are just wonderful. They tell you so many things.

Oh, and I heard that Shed had learnt how to write and hypnotise people into his trap while planting several clues of his true identity.

But I don't know if it's true and now that I told you all these, I'm actually kind of afraid.

Like, I am really afraid.

Really really afraid.

More than just afraid, actually.

More like,

I am afraid of-

No.

I am afraid for you.

You see, you have walked right into your grave. You can hear the low moans. You swear and sweat profusely. You see Shed turning around gradually. You see his blood red eyes.

You try to move, turn away. You can't.

You have fallen right into Shed's trap. Shed watches you drop your gameboy and phone (or is it a laptop? Just some handheld device anyway.)

Shed snickers. You follow the movement of his eyes, how they skilfully seem to cut you into pieces. You watch blood foam in your mouth. You watch your tongue roll into the depths of the Pokémon Tower...

Your blood-curdling scream doesn't sound. Neither does your deflated lungs.

Your heart skips more than just a beat. You fall.

And fall.

And f
            a
                 l
                     l

into your grave. Shed squeezes juice out of your brain, and you realise too late that your loved ones are in danger.

You realised too late that Shed is holding a smartphone too.

You realised too late...

That Shed had also gained skills from the juices he drinks. For example, writing skills.

That Shed was the one behind all these.

And that your skull has rolled down the stairs and into the ground that swallows it whole. Your body crumbles. Your existence is no more.

Now, away from this urban legend (I mean it! It's real but you always call it an "urban legend") even Riley the Aura Guardian and the ole couple who visited from Mt. Pyre were amongst those victims of the floating exoskeleton.

It's time I tell you my name. You must be expecting a kind of face reveal. So I did reveal my face, like I always do. And that my interesting blood eyes penetrate your cold soul.

If you haven't realised as you fall into the void pits of the Distortion World, then I am going to engrave it into your mind, literally. Too bad you won't be very much alive—or very much dead—to see it.

I am Shed.

And since you have no last words, you tongue-tied human (tongue-cut human) I will see that your identity is thoroughly erased.

And so will those of every single (and married) person you have met or brushed past. Judging that you have been to numerous crowded places, and of course, no longer here as I type away, I will have to thank you for this very sumptuous feast about to come.

I won't want to see you for a long, long time.

|||||

The tower is crowded, unusually full of people whom all the victims know or simply see.

Behind the counter, in my basement, I lick the remnant brain juice of yours, sending electrifying chills down my exoskeleton spine. I'm more than just a shed skin.

I'm Shed.

And...

Welcome to the Death Parade.