Words really couldn't describe Phil's complete and utter excitement; for his seventeenth birthday, his mum had given him the greatest gift a mother could give her teenaged child, a pokémon egg. Phil was ecstatic! Overjoyed! Pokémon were extremely expensive to but and very few people were licensed to sell them. Eggs were even rarer to come by, so the gift was exceptionally rare. Phil cherished it.

Within a few days - days that dragged on and on, in Phil's most humble of opinions - the egg had hatched, and from the pieces of broken, jagged shell emerged a young, healthy, female Growlithe. She was quite small for the species to which she belonged, but the Lesters assumed the pup was only small because her youth.

After Growlithe was able to master the art of mobility, she spent her days barking and yapping contentedly at Phil's feet, which, of course, he didn't mind. He smiled and laughed heartily as the fire-type weaved between his legs, yipping happily as she went. A steady diet of pokémon food, poffins and berries ensured that the pup grew, and, though, she did grow at the normal rate a Growlithe should, she still remained a little on the petite side.

One summery morning, Phil and Growlithe were called into the kitchen by the lady of the house.

"Phil, darling," Mrs Lester had started calmly. "How do you feel towards trainers?"

And with that, Growlithe's inner desires were unleashed. Inside, she was a true battler. She would start by charging and barking fiercely at the tiny Starly pokémon that would group together and settle in the back garden, but as time wore on, she became more and more adventurous and more and more daring, much to the distress of her almost overly cautious master.

Despite his worries and his occasional fears, Phil allowed Growlithe to train and battle against wild pokémon. He would often take the puppy pokémon into the tall grass.

"Come on, Growlithe!" He often called, and that was always all it took.

Phil never had been a confident person; he was always modest and sincere. Growlithe was by no means a tough pokémon, but she was strong enough to protect Phil from most of the wild species in the area, so when the boy had found himself with a severely weakened fire-type, in what seemed to be a never-ending thunderstorm, complete with pelting rain and all, he was at a loss of what to do.

"Return, Growlithe!" He ordered, and the little pokémon shot him a sympathetic look.

"Growl!" She barked, before she was brought back into her ball. She wanted to help Phil, but she was loyal. She would never go against his word. Besides, the rain wasn't doing much to help her condition.

Slowly, Phil started to trudge through the filthy mud and the matted grass, trying to recall how far he'd strayed from home.

All in all, he didn't have much to fear. Twinleaf Town wasn't far - he was positive he hadn't wandered from Route 201 - and the pokémon that hid in the tall grasses were relatively weak. Even so, he was vulnerable. He had no pokémon to protect himself with, he was still very inexperienced when it came to identifying species, and the storm was only worsening. Phil was still convinced that the wild pokémon could do him no damage, but that was before he'd started clambering through the woods, hoping to find short cut back home.

As he staggered through the foliage, Phil couldn't help but feel paranoid for some reason. He felt as if something were watching him, stalking him. He froze, clutching Growlithe's pokéball tightly.

"...W-Who's there?" He tried to sound brave, but his nerves betrayed him.

"Gastly..." A raspy voice hissed from behind him.

"W-What?" Phil spun around, shaking slightly.

Suddenly, the boy felt something ghosting over his shoulder. In fear and shock, he stumbled, trying to put space between himself and whatever stood behind him.

"Get away from me!" He yelped, tripping over his own two feet in his haste. he fell to his knees harshly and struggled to lash his arms out in front of him.

Creepy, distorted laughter filtered through the air, and the hair on the back of Phil's neck stood on end. He set himself steady on his knees, disregarding the wavering support his trembling, bare arms gave him in favour of holding them to his chest, pokéball in hand.

Phil inhaled sharply. In front of him, out of thin air, something was taking shape.

"W-What..." He stuttered, shaking harder. He held Growlithe's pokéball as close to him as he could.

"Gast..." It was then that Phil realised his situation was much more dangerous than he first thought. He was dealing with a pokémon - a pokémon with large, white eyes, tiny pupils, and an ebony body-like sphere, surrounded by purple gases - Phil flinched.

"Gastly!" It cried, baring sharp fangs from a wide mouth.

The rain was freezing and icy on his pale skin; Phil was drenched. His clothes stuck to his skin, soaked and sodden. The thunder that boomed and the flashes of electricity that lit up the area only added to the atmosphere. The pokémon started to shake, and Phil knew what it was doing. He'd seen it in other species before, he'd seen Growlithe do that same. It was preparing to execute an attack.

The pokémon closed it's eyes and the gas around it started to diffuse slightly. Phil chewed on his bottom lip, staring up at the pokémon. As it opened it's eyes, Phil couldn't help but feel his skin crawl. The pokémon's stare was cruel and hard, stone cold, and then it rushed forwards, dragging a tongue across Phil's arm before circling him.

The first thing Phil became aware of was the pain. He couldn't more, and when he tried to, sparks and jolts sped through him. He cried out until his throat was raw, tormented and unable to move. The agony that surged through him in pulses was too much - he started to feel faint - again, the pokémon hovered infront of him, with a menacing smirk and piercing eyes.

"Gas!" It shrieked for the final time, charging right at him, provoking the anguished boy into releasing one more blood-curdling scream of absolute, pure terror.

Falling backwards, his breath hitched in his throat. Phil's vision was quickly fading, and the pokéball that was firmly held in his desperate grip fell from his fingers.

"...G-Growl..." He choked out, his head spinning.

The last thing he heard before he fell unconsciousness was the voice he'd been waiting to hear since encountering the pokémon attacking him - the voice of his saviour.

"Umbreon! Use Faint Attack!"

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon or anything associated with it. Neither do I own Dan, Phil, or anything associated with them. Reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.