Pokémon Creepypasta A to Z

Difficult Task

A Difficult Task

It was a difficult task, but someone had to do it. We couldn't use shortcuts. We couldn't afford explosives. Pokémon would refuse to help, so it had to be done with handheld tools.

The demolition of the Pokémon Tower, that is.

I had no hand in making the decision, and even if I quit the job it would have happened anyway. I needed the money; I was a poor man from Cinnabar.

The volcano that had made the island in the first place had erupted violently, and buried the town in its heavy ashes. It buried my home, though neither my wife nor my kids were hurt. I had to raise money to help rebuild the house. And my old job as a janitor was gone, ten feet under solidified lava. So, when the news got out that workers were needed to help in the demolition of the Pokémon Tower, I obliged, using our family's lone Pokémon; my starter, Fearow, to fly out to Lavender.

The small, rustic town wasn't as out-of-place as it was often made out to be. It was just barren, and I guess the building of Kanto's very own radio tower instead of tuning into Johto's stations was a good idea to bring publicity and business to the town.

Anyway, I'm rambling, as it's hard to think of what twenty workers and I were doing.

The Pokémon Tower had been standing longer than any of us had been alive. I'd been here one time before, when I was young, to bring an old friend to rest. I wasn't a very good Trainer, and I ended up releasing all my Pokémon shortly after the incident with Golduck. He was the purpose for my original visit to the Pokémon Tower.

But enough of him, it's hard enough being here, doing this, already.

The work was nitty-gritty. The task was to completely hollow it out, floor by floor, then disassemble the frame the same way. We had to do this from the top-down.

You're probably wondering about the many graves. Most were empty, to my relief; only words in the tombstones left as memories. But some weren't. As we had to remove each and every casket from their place in the floorboards, they had to be opened.

As the tower hadn't been open to the public for almost half a year now, none of the corpses were fresh. And frankly, we didn't know what to do with them. I tried not to look, though, of course, I couldn't help it. I would have rather gotten a direct Stun Spore in my eyes. Some of the bodies were nothing but bones. One I remember was a Seel, rotten, flesh red-black and head merely a skull, dried red filling the bottom of the grave.

And the smell. Oh, the smell. I almost left after bearing witness to my first decayed Pokémon. Especially since I knew when we'd descended from the seventh floor to the fourth, my partner Golduck would be there. I would be disturbing his rest. Disturbing his peace, his soul.

Why did I ever take this job? I didn't even like the idea of tearing down the region's largest cemetery. Every one of these Pokémon had a story, a Trainer, a life at one point, and all they wanted was to rest.

The work took a long time, sun-up to sun-down, for many days. I lost count after a while. Staying at the diminutive motel wasn't helping me get a healthy amount of sleep. Neither did the nightmares of what we'd done.

It wasn't long before I completely resented taking up this job. The relatively high pay wasn't enough to make up for the moral crimes us workers were committing. I wasn't the only one upset about the Tower. I guess we all needed the money. I told myself that it was going to be worth it, going to help my family, as I screwed my eyes shut and emptied the wheelbarrow into the dump, debris of wood and stone among various rotten Pokémon bodies.