The hot, gooey chocolate chip cookies seemed to put everyone in a better mood, especially Ash. Although the incident in his room was still present in his mind, he decided to forget about it for a moment to enjoy the snack. He sat across from Misty, and during and in between the small conversations that took place at the table, Ash found himself giving her nonsensical faces. Misty simply returned them, laughing a couple times at their silliness.

After the snack was devoured, Delia collected the plates and glasses with Brock’s help, and dumped them near the sink. It was obvious that Delia was rushing around, due to the fact that she needed to be at work in fifteen minutes.

"I’ll take care of these, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock said with a smile. "Go get ready."

Delia looked relieved. "Thank you, honey, thank you. I have no idea where the time went."

Brock shrugged. "Think nothing of it." He turned to Ash and flashed him a sly grin. "At least someone will be doing some work around here."

"No, you won’t be the only one doing work," Delia corrected him, her eyes flipping directly to Ash. Ash lowered his eyes at his mom, which had no effect whatsoever.

"I haven’t forgotten about your room, Ash," she said, making her son shake his head. "I’m not buying that little ‘ghostly’ thing of yours."

"But a perfectly good day will be put to waste!" replied Ash, saying it ever so softly to make it sound ridiculous to be doing anything else.

Delia sighed calmly, giving Ash a small, gentle smile. "Ash, I’m not confining you in the house. As soon as you’re done, you can go out and battle to your heart’s content. Okay?"

Ash was ready to shoot back another disagreeing reply, but Delia’s soft face made him suddenly reconsider. He couldn’t say no to her when she looked at him that way, bringing the corner of her mouth into a friendly, almost kittenish grin, her eyes melting into his own. With a strong sigh, he looked down at the shiny kitchen floor.

"Okay," he silently replied, unable to hold his own smile back.

Delia beamed now. "Good boy." She looked up at the clock and groaned, looking a little shocked. "Oh, I have to go. I’ll see you kids later, okay?"

"Bye," Misty said, juggling Togepi in her arms.

"Bye," she replied, grabbing her bag and keys. Heading to the door, she stooped down to give her son a kiss good-bye, which Ash scowled at but deep-down gladly accepted.

She placed her hand on his head, and ruffled his hair robustly. "I love ya. Clean your room!" she told him one last time.

"I will, I will!" Ash replied annoyingly, swatting her hand away from his head playfully.

Delia stood up and snickered at him. "Okay, okay, I believe you. But Ash, I swear, if I come home, and that room’s not clean, I’m gonna--"

"Oh my God! I’ll clean it! I’ll clean it!" he interrupted quickly. "Mom, you can relax. You need to go to work."

"All right," she answered, finally, to Ash’s relief, making her way to the front door.

As she left the house, the three kids could hear her call out one last time, making Misty and Brock chuckle, on the contrary making Ash fume. "Make sure he does it, guys!"

The door shut behind her, and Ash felt like jumping up and celebrating. He found his mom particularly grumpy lately, and unfortunately he was getting the bad end of her disposition. He was perfectly willing to clean his room, but a much more convenient time would have encouraged him more. He turned to Misty and Brock, who were smiling back at him.

"Don’t worry, Ash," said Misty, plopping down at the table. "We’ll find something to do while you clean."

"Yeah, like help me maybe?" Ash suggested coldly. "You guys have all your crap laying around as well."

Brock smirked. "Whatever, Ash. You just want us up there ‘cause you’re scared," he said.

"I am not scared!" roared Ash. "And just to prove that, I’m going up there right now to clean . . . by myself!"

With that, Ash spun around on his heels and marched up the stairs. Pikachu grinned at his two friends, and with an amused flick of his ears, bolted off to follow Ash.

Misty shook her head in comical disbelief. "I swear, I don’t understand that kid sometimes."

"Oh, I do," Brock said matter-of-factly. Misty tilted her head, not comprehending. "When his pride’s on the line, a little reverse psychology goes a long way," Brock concluded with a smile.

The next hour flew by quite rapidly. Ash had spent the whole time cleaning his room, a job he’d discovered wasn’t so tough after all. Just time consuming. But as always, as soon as Ash got going with the cleaning, he couldn’t stop. He hated unfinished jobs, and he became an unstoppable cleaning machine by the time he made his bed. Pikachu helped a little, but fell asleep on Ash’s bed after fifteen minutes.

No strange noises and events occurred while Ash was in his room, to his relief. He was concerned about it at first, and moved around his room silently in order to pick up faint sounds, if ones happened to be heard. Nothing happened though, and after a while, Ash forgot about it, his mind focused solely on the task he sought to complete.

Ash didn’t have much time to be proud of his accomplishment. Totally preoccupied with the cleaning, the outside world was an oblivion to him. He listened to the birds, if all. The anticipation of the upcoming Pokémon League took up most of Ash’s thoughts. He imagined himself many times in the center of the stadium, the roaring crowds surrounding him, chanting his name. He smiled to himself, shaking a little at the anxiety that was wracking him. How he couldn’t wait to get out and train!

Ash scanned his room happily, smiling pleasingly at his success. His room was utterly spotless, and he knew his mom would be proud. His pleasure was soon interrupted when he naturally looked out the window, and his face fell from delighted to surprised.

The sunlight poured through his window, but Ash was not seeing that. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the dark, massive thunderclouds that were floating dangerously in the direction of his house.

"Oh man!" he groaned loudly, so loudly that he had awoken Pikachu. "Please tell me no!"

He didn’t get the response he wanted. As soon as he had said it, the tumultuous rumbling of thunder resounded through the valley. In the distance by the clouds, Ash could see the bright flicker of lightning, and strong winds were beginning to beat at the side of the house.

Ash’s fists clamped. "Dammit!" he belted out, stomping his foot.

"Pi?" Pikachu looked down at Ash, his eyes drooping sleepily. Ash looked up at him, his eyes narrowed in agitation.

"Come on, Pikachu," he said, opening the door forcefully and angrily. As the Pokémon hopped to the floor from the bed, he flinched as an even louder crack of thunder roared outside. Immediately, he knew that was trouble, and Ash was not going to take this lightly.

Ash pounded down the stairs soundly, met at the landing by none other than Misty and Brock.

"Can you believe this?!" he shouted, waving his hand at the patio doors, where the darkened sky could be seen clearly.

"Yeah, it was so nice before," Brock replied, shrugging. "That’s a bummer, ain’t it?"

Ash growled at Brock. "Oh course it is! How the hell am I supposed to train now?"

"Ash, calm down," Misty told him, gripping his shoulders. "It’s okay."

Ash broke free of her hands. "No, it’s not okay! It was so beautiful before! Why did it have to get like this out?" He sounded upset enough to cry.

"You can’t control the weather, Ash," Brock said, giving him an even-tempered face. He walked over to the patio doors and glanced out at the disrupted atmosphere around him. "We’ll go out and battle tomorrow. It really is no big deal."

Ash responded by stomping his foot again, making the glasses in the china cabinet clink softly. Misty and Brock could feel the floor tremble a little under Ash’s foot, and they winced.

"Uhhh! I’m going to kill my mother!" Ash pledged, folding his arms in front of him. An unmistakable look of animosity had invaded his face, and Misty quivered a little at it. When you got in the way of Ash and Pokémon, you were in for it.

"I swear, I’m gonna rampage my room," Ash mumbled. "See how she likes to be disappointed."

Misty groaned. "Ash, would you grow up?! Nothing can be done now."

Ash huffed, just as a torrential downpour blasted Pallet Town. The rain came down in buckets, and the sky lit up with a spectacular, electrifying lightning show. Thunder rumbled, making the ground quake lightly. The three spectators watched the storm from the patio windows, all in silence.

Ash shook his head as he watched the wind rip through the trees, totally disgusted with the way this day had turned out. He was so full of spirits hours ago, but they had been abruptly put to a halt yet again.

"Ya know," Brock said suddenly, breaking Ash out of his inner, unhappy shell. "This might just be a passing storm."

Ash’s eyes lit up. "Seriously?"

Brock nodded, glancing at him for a moment sincerely, then turning back to the outdoors. "We might see sun again today. It’s a possibility. Ya never know."

"That would be great," Misty responded. Thunder crashed in the distance, and Togepi cried fearfully, shrinking himself back into his shell. Misty bounced the little Pokémon soothingly in hopes of calming it. "Togepi doesn’t like this one bit."

Ash took a deep breath, and although he felt better for a moment, the definite frown remained on his face. "I hope so," he whispered softly. Hopefully, just hopefully, Brock was right.

Brock, despite being the eldest and wisest of the three, was not right. They had patiently watched the rain beat down on the ground for a good half an hour. The temperature had dropped a good couple of degrees, and evening was soon approaching. Ash was getting more upset by the minute. And closer to throwing a fit. The day had definitely gone to waste.

Since the rain showed no signs of stopping, and since there was nothing much else to do, Misty had suggested they play a game. Brock agreed immediately, becoming fed up with the boredom that had befallen him. Ash just remained at the window, looking out at the thunderstorm, Pikachu watching the lightning bolts from atop his shoulder.

"Come on, Ash," Misty said, waving him over. "Let’s play."

Brock and Misty were seated on the couch, and Brock was setting up the board in preparation for them to play Clue.

"No thanks," Ash replied, turning his attention back to the rain.

Misty frowned. "Ash, the storm’s not gonna go away with you staring at it! C’mon, you can be Colonel Mustard this time!"

"I don’t want to play!" Ash shouted back, shooting her an angry glare.

"Ash Ketchum turn down an opportunity to play Clue?" Brock asked incredulously. "Now that’s unheard of!"

Ash just shrugged off the comment. There went Brock again, trying to mess with his mind in hopes of dragging him into yet another meaningless game of Clue. The game he’d played millions of times in his life, and had won practically most of the time . . . except when he was playing against Misty and Brock.

Misty and Brock sat and stared at him, the board all set up, the cards all dealt out. Ash could feel their eyes on him, which made it even harder to resist joining them. But his stubborn determination had transgressed him once again, his mind trying to focus on ways he could seek revenge on his mother.

"C’mon," Brock cooed, smiling slyly at Ash, lowering his voice into a growl. "You know you wanna play."

Ash turned to them. "Don’t you guys ever listen to a word I say?" They grinned at him. Ash bit his lip to keep from grinning, himself. "I told you I don’t want to play!"

Misty and Brock just smiled at him some more, and Ash bit down on his bottom lip even more. Finally, a defeated smile came to his face. He glanced out the window once more, watching the rain hammer down on the patio. With a sigh, he strolled reluctantly over to them.

"I’m Colonel Mustard," he announced.

"Ooookaaayy . . . ," Ash said, rubbing his chin as he stared down at the board. Misty and Brock looked at him, annoyed beyond doubt.

"Ash, will you please make your move?" Misty groaned agitatedly, wringing her hands.

Ash looked up at her distrustfully. "Misty, I’m concentrating."

"Can you concentrate a little faster?" she demanded. "So we can get to my move?"

"What, so you can win?" replied Ash, giving her a face. "Yeah, right." He looked back down at the board, and grasped the green piece in his hand. Brock grumbled.

"Hey, I was finally going to get into the library!" he moaned. "Why’d you do that for?"

Ash smiled. "Well, I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t a cold-blooded killer, Mr. Green!"

"Har har," Brock responded apathetically. "Make your damn move."

"Yeah, so you can get it wrong, and I can go," Misty added.

As they played their third game of Clue, the rain continued to plummet the earth as the storm raged on. A couple of times it had gotten very bad, the winds reaching dangerous speeds. Ash thought that a tree in their yard was destined to go down, but the wind had settled before it got a chance. Although the rain had stopped a few times, it had started up not long after. Getting into the game, Ash had completely seemed to forget about battling.

"I think it’s Mr. Green, in the Hall--"

Ash was cut short as the lights in the house began to flicker sickly, then blowing out completely, leaving Ash, Misty, Brock, and their Pokémon in dark silence. The sun had practically set, and the room was quite dim.

"Well, that’s just great," Ash said unemotionally, throwing down the green peg onto the board.

"Not that this wasn’t really unexpected," Brock said, looking out as the wind whipped through the trees.

Ash slumped back in the chair, rubbing his achy eyes. He sighed heavily. "So what do we do now?"

Misty rolled her eyes, but none of them could see that due to the darkness. "Duh, Ash. Don’t you guys have any storm candles or something?"

Ash shrugged. "I dunno."

Brock slapped his knees frustratedly. "Well, there you go."

"Ash, your mom’s not gonna be home for another hour or two," Misty hissed at him. "Can’t you at least think of where they might be? I’m not sitting in darkness like a bat."

Ash was ready to tease her about that comment, but he shushed himself, thinking it was not worth getting beat up at the moment. He knew they had storm candles somewhere, but he didn’t know where that somewhere was. Searching for them would be the wise choice, but he was too gloomy to even bother moving.

Finally, he breathed deeply and relaxingly. "Guess we can check the cellar. Mom keeps all that stuff down there. If not, the attic."

"Well, let’s try the cellar first," Brock suggested, getting up and squeezing out of the tight space between the couch and the coffee table. Misty got up and followed him, her sleeping Togepi snoring lightly in her arms.

Ash got up along with them, tripping over Pikachu in the process. Ash chuckled softly. "Watch it, Pikachu, buddy. Come on up here." He held his arm down for Pikachu to climb up. "I don’t want to squash you."

"Pika!" agreed Pikachu, settling on Ash’s shoulder.

The remaining sunlight guided their way to the basement door, which was located in a dark hallway of the house itself.

"It’s gonna be even darker down there," Misty commented, as she heard Brock searching for the doorknob.

Ash pushed his way to the door. "Here, let me go first," he ordered, grabbing onto the knob instinctively. "The stairs are really steep and I don’t want to have to deal with you guys breaking your necks."

Ash opened the cellar door. The three kids peered down the stairs, which were gradually swallowed up into the deep dark of the basement. Ash trembled a little and stood there for a moment, becoming slightly intimidated at the murkiness. Almost involuntarily, he flicked on the light switch to the stairs. Of course, nothing came on, causing his two friends to shake their heads and burst into laughter.

"Duh, genius!" Misty laughed, slapping Ash on the shoulder.

Ash chuckled himself, though he was slightly embarrassed. He had never gone down into his cellar before in the dark, so turning on the light was habitual. For closure, he switched the light off again and slowly made his way down the stairs.

"Don’t let the boogie man get you, Ash!" Misty cooed from the landing. Brock giggled.

"That’s very funny, Misty," Ash shot back softly, gripping tightly onto the banister and placing one foot carefully down each step. Thunder continued to roar outside, and few times the lightning lit up the cellar. Still having a small fear of the dark, he was a little frightened, especially with the memory of the spooky occurrence in his room earlier. But there was no way in hell he was going to let her know that. Just go down and get the candles, he encouraged himself. It’s no big deal.

"You’re almost there!" Brock cheered from behind him.

"Hey, you guys are coming down, too, aren’t you?" Ash asked, turning back to them. His voice was a little shaky, but he controlled it quite well. He wanted them to come down too, just to calm him a little. Even with Pikachu on his shoulder, he couldn’t shake the fact that he despised dark basements.

Misty sneered. "Are you joking? It’s creepy down there."

"Yeah, no kidding," Ash retorted, sounding a little annoyed. He waved his hand a them, and turned to finish his descent. "Fine, stay there."

Ash started to go down again, but he froze when a sharp ring of a bell sounded out from the dim basement. Ash stopped breathing for a moment, not really knowing whether or not he had heard that. Slowly, he turned to Misty and Brock. They were dead silent.

"Did you guys just hear that?" Ash asked, the question coming out in a nervous squeak.

They were quiet for a moment, but Misty spoke up. "Yeah," she whispered.

"I heard it, too," Brock announced, his voice tight with surprise.

A chill ran up Ash’s spine, and his eyes widened fearfully. His fists balled and he could feel Pikachu digging his claws into his shoulder. Ash gulped, frozen in terror. "What was that?" he whispered, shaking.

Brock and Misty didn’t reply, but stood silently. All three of their eyes bugged out when brisk clicking noises began to sound, and Ash could feel himself nervously making his way up the stairs. The clicking concluded with the distinct ring of a loud, chiming bell, the same as they heard before. And then the clicking continued, this time more slowly and heavily emphasized.

Ash spun around and almost tripped as he scrambled up the stairs, a hot, sticky sweat breaking on his forehead. Misty and Brock jumped out of his way and he crashed through, immediately slamming the cellar door behind him. He was breathing heavily but otherwise silent, as were Brock and Misty, as they listened in fear at the noise that rang out from the dead silence. Thunder and the pouring rain were the only things that could also be heard.

Ash gripped the door tightly as his heart raced, shaking his head. He could not be hearing this, he just couldn’t. The clicking, then the ring. The clicking and the ring. He shut his eyes, his mind spinning.

He could hear Brock and Misty breathing heavily behind him, actually feeling Misty’s hot breath on the back of his neck.

"Ash?" she squeaked in a terrorized whisper, swallowing hard. Ash clenched his eyes closed more tightly, her uneasiness making his shiver. "What is that?"

As the bell sounded out quietly from the closer door, Ash bit down on his lip.

"A typewriter," he simply responded, his voice cracking.

Brock’s heart raced. "A typewriter?" He knew that that was what it was, but the sudden fear sweeping through him made his head cloudy.

Ash nodded, his eyes tearing up as the bell sounded out again. "My mom has my grandpa’s old typewriter on a table downstairs," he explained, feeling the blood draining from his face. Misty and Brock tensed, as if they knew what Ash was about to say next.

"And someone’s on it right now . . ."

TO BE CONTINUED . . .