Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

I almost died, the day I found myself in the Pokémon world.

The first thing I noticed as I groggily returned to consciousness was the pain. My entire body ached as if I had been trampled by an elephant. Even breathing hurt, the tiniest inhale of breath causing me to wince as pain shot through my chest.

Beneath me, something hard and sharp was stabbing into my kidney. Feeling blindly, I grabbed the offender and pulled it out from under me. I forced my eyes open to the barest slits and blearily peered at it. It was a rock.

Why the fuck is a rock in my bed?

Then I saw the trees. This wasn’t my bed, or my room. Or even my apartment.

I sat upright with a jolt followed by instant regret as light stabbed white hot needles of pain into my eyes. My stomach clenched and I gagged, bile burning my throat. Whatever I drank last night, it was coming back up.

"Bleeeeuuugh,” I vomited noisily.

Collapsing back to the ground, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as the spots before my eyes slowly cleared. Panting, and with a good amount of pain, I lifted my head and looked around, trying to work out where I was.

Well that explains the rock. And the trees.

Going by all the trees and dirt, I was somewhere in the woods. But what the hell was I doing here? My apartment was in the city and I rarely went further than the office if I could help it, let alone traipsing off into the wilderness. I wasn’t exactly the outdoors type.

A terrifying thought struck me.

Had I been drugged? My drink spiked? Had some asshole date-rapped me and dumped me in the woods?

I checked myself over but I seemed fine. No bruises, no torn clothes, no… fluids. My clothes were my usual home clothes. Cheap, plain black shirt and jeans. No bra. No shoes. I had my phone on me too, but no keys or wallet.

I unlocked my phone and opened the front-facing camera.

My usual pale face peered back at me framed by a mess of box-dyed black hair in desperate need of a comb. Piercings, dark bags, cracked lips. Everything was there. I didn't even have any makeup on. There was no way I had gone out. I don't ever leave my apartment without at least eyeliner on.

I closed the camera and checked the time. 2:14 am. That was weird. No reception either. That was less weird. I locked my phone and put it back in my pocket. No sense in wasting battery.

I was about to lay back down and try to recall the events of the previous night when I was interrupted from my thoughts by an angry chattering. I froze. Slowly, I looked towards the source of the sound.

"No fucking way," I breathed aloud. "No fucking way!”

Standing beside me was an honest to god Rattata. And it was covered in my sick.

"Uh, hey there, little guy," I said to the purple and white rodent. "Sorry about the, um, you know."

I weakly waved my hand to indicate the vomit dripping from the Rattata's fur.

What is going on right now? Am I really talking to a real Pokémon!

Ignoring the scary-weird question of how I ended up alone in the woods, this was like something out of a childhood dream. Clearly the Rattata didn't agree. Jumping backwards, it hissed like a tire deflating and glared at me with bright red eyes.

"Hey, woah, it's okay," I said, reaching my hand out towards the creature. "I won't hurt you."

Big mistake. The Rattata lunged, moving so fast I barely saw it. One second it was hissing at me, the next it was flying through the air, oversized teeth flashing as it went for my face.

I screamed in fright and threw my arms up in front of my face. My body complained at the action, every muscle protesting in pain. I was exhausted and just sitting up had taken most of my energy. By some miracle though, my flailing connected with the purple blur of teeth and hate, knocking it away to smack against a tree.

Forcing myself to my feet, I stumbled back from the creature, desperate to get away from it. But I was too slow. Already back on its feet, it came at me again. I tried to kick the thing but it was too nimble, easily dodging my feet. It leapt again, sinking its teeth into my leg.

I screamed again, and furiously shook my leg trying to dislodge it. I realised my mistake as my leg meat gave up before the giant rat - a long strip of flesh ripping free along with part of my jeans. Screaming even louder than before, I collapsed back to the ground, my mauled leg unable to hold me up.

Through streaming eyes I watched the monster approaching. I begged it, I think. It was hard to breathe, my vision darkening around the edges.

I’m in shock. Blood loss.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was a pair of saliva dropping fangs closing on me.

---

The second time I found myself swimming back to consciousness, I found I was laying on a comfortable leather sofa, a thin blanket thrown over me. No blood thirsty fictional rodent about to tear my throat out. No woods either.But this still wasn't my apartment.

Where the hell am I now?

High ceilings, large windows. A single closed door. Oh, and every wall was lined with expensive looking dark wood bookcases absolutely stuffed to overflowing with leatherbound volumes. As much as I enjoyed a good read, I'd never owned this many of them.

Did I fall asleep reading somewhere and dream all of that?

I sat up. Or I tried to. Pain shot up my leg and I shrieked. The door was thrown open and an older guy with short brown hair streaked with grey dressed in a white lab coat burst in. He was saying something, his mouth moving, but my mind refused to process anything except the pain.

He left the room again, then returned a moment later with a glass of water.

"Here," I realised he was saying at last, my pain dumbed brain finally parsing his words. "Stay still and drink. It'll help."

He gently lifted the cup to my lips and helped me hold it as I sipped it. A sweet citrus-like flavour hit my tongue. It was the most amazing thing I had ever tasted. It tasted like the freshest lime you can imagine was dipped in the bathwater of a fairy.

"Careful now, slowly," he was saying.

Glass empty, he took it and set it on the nearby coffee table while I lay back down and tried to catch my breath. After a few minutes the pain began to fade to something manageable and I could think again.

"Where?" I tried to ask, barely managing to croak. My throat hurt and it was difficult to form words.

The man in the labcoat leaned in closer to hear me. Too close. I don't like people being too close. I tried to wave him away but my arms were too weak, floppy like I'd slept on them.

"You're safe now," he replied. "You're in my lab."

I swallowed, trying to work my throat.

"What happened?" I croaked.

He frowned at me, deep wrinkles furrowing his brow.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he replied, rubbing a hand across the day old growth sprouting from his chin with a rasping sound that made my skin crawl. "I found you laying on the ground just beyond the boundary line."

"There was a… a creature," I said, my voice gradually regaining a little strength. "An animal."

My head was still fuzzy, but I sure wasn't going to admit I had seen a Pokémon. At best they’d assume I’d hit my head. At worst, they'd lock me up and throw away the key.

His frown deepened, clearly not happy with my answer. His dark brown eyes stared at me, piercing in their intensity. I felt like he was looking past my skin and bone, trying to see what I was hiding beneath it all.

"You were extremely lucky we heard your scream," he said. "Even a few minutes later and that Rattata would have killed you."

What? Had I heard that right?

"What?" I said, repeating my thoughts aloud.

"This isn’t one of the cities," he said, taking a step back and crossing his arms across his chest. "There are wild Pokémon everywhere out here."

Yep. I hadn't heard wrong.

I tried to sit up again, bracing for the pain but it wasn't nearly as bad this time. I must have shown my surprise as his frown eased a little and he gave me a small nod.

"Good, looks like the Oran extract is kicking in," he said. "It should help with the pain until the doctor arrives."

I nodded as if I understood what he was talking about. I mean, I kind of did. Oran berries were a type of item in the Pokémon games that restored health points. But that was just in a game, none of it was real.

Like the Rattata?

I looked towards my leg. Blood soaked bandages covered me from ankle to knee. I felt faint and had to look away. Nope, let’s not look at that again.

“Where are we?” I asked. “You said a lab?”

He peered at me for a few seconds before answering.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you didn’t know where you were when you just happened to stumble upon the most famous research facility in all of Kanto?” he asked. “Who do you work for? The KLF? Or perhaps you’re a poacher?”

“Hey, woah,” I said, trying and failing to sit up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I just woke up in the middle of nowhere and had a giant rat attack me.”

“You’re referring to the Rattata we chased off?” he asked. From the look on his face I could tell he wasn’t buying my story.

“Yeah, man, I’m not lying to you. I am just as confused as you are.”

“Hm,” he said, the sound noncommittal. “Perhaps you hit your head? Are you experiencing any pain? Headache?”

"I've got a headache," I admitted. "How did I get here anyway?"

“My Espeon, Queenie, carried you,” he said. “I’d have preferred to take you straight to a doctor but my lab was closer.”

"Right. Your Espeon," I agreed, closing my eyes and willing the world to make sense. "I've gone insane. This is all some hallucination."

“If you weren’t sent here and you aren’t a Poacher-” he started.

“I wasn’t, and I’m not.” I interrupted.

“-then what were you doing out there?” he asked. “And without a Pokémon to defend you?” he finished.

I groaned.

“I told you,” I said, exasperated. “I don’t know. The last thing I remember is being at home in my apartment and then I was waking up in the woods.”

“I will admit, it’s not entirely unheard of to be teleported out of your own home,” he said. “Especially if there are any Psychic or Ghost-type Pokémon nearby. And where is home, Miss…?”

“Chloe,” I said, my eyes still closed and talking to the ceiling. “Luxford. I’ve got a place in Marpole.”

“Well, Miss Luxford, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Marpole,” he said. “But I guess there are always new towns popping up on the frontiers.”

I snorted, blowing my breath loudly out of my nose.

"Not that any of this matters," I said. "But who the hell are you, dude?"

I heard a confused laugh as he tried to work out if I was joking or not.

"Apologies," he said after a few seconds of awkward silence. "I completely forgot to introduce myself with all the screaming and bleeding. I am Professor Gary Oak."

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"No you’re not."

"Excuse me?"

"Oak is an old guy. Older even than you. And he's not real."

"Ah, that would likely be my grandfather. And believe me, he was very real."

A knock came at the door. I opened my eyes to see a young woman stick her head in.

"The Doctor is here, Professor," the woman said.

"Thank you, Penny," the man claiming to be Oak told her without looking at her. "Please bring her in."

The woman nodded and disappeared out of sight before returning a few minutes later with another, older woman, in tow.

"Miss Luxford," Oak said. "This is Doctor Jao."

"Hi Doc," I said from my couch. "I’d get up to greet you properly, but, you know."

She looked to be at least ten years older than Oak, her dark hair in a bun, and dressed in a comfortable sweater and trousers. A pair of tiny round glasses perched on her nose. A black doctor’s bag at her side.

"Nasty wound," she said, ignoring my snark, and instead kneeling beside the couch and setting about unwrapping my bandaged leg. "I am going to have to cut this off."

"Hey, what?" I demanded, trying to sit up again. “No one is chopping off anything.”

She simply pushed me back down, my body too weak to stop her.

"Your pant leg, girl," she clarified, sounding annoyed.

Unclasping her black leather doctor’s bag, she reached inside and pulled out a small steel dish and placed it on the floor. Reaching back in again, she withdrew a pair of scissors then began expertly snipping away the torn and bloody fabric  and dropping it in the dish, leaving my leg bare from the knee down.

After she was done, she dropped the scissors in the dish alongside the filthy fabric and withdrew a long pair of tweezers and a single-use wipe that she tore open with her teeth.

With the bedside manners of a polar bear, she wiped down my leg, removing any visible blood and dirt, as well as eliciting a number of yelps and curses from me in the process that she simply ignored, then set about plucking any strands of fabric and other debris from my wound.

Once she was finished cleaning, she nodded once, then pulled a spray bottle from her bag. I swear to you, it looked just like the Potion bottles from the Pokémon games. Aiming the nozzle, she pulled the trigger and sprayed the clear fluid up and down my leg. Immediately the wound began to itch and I watched in stunned amazement as fresh pink flesh began to grow over the jagged bite.

"I’m done," the doctor said, standing back up and turning to face Oak, deliberately turning her back on me. "Apart from the leg wound, which she needs to keep off for the rest of the day, she's also suffering from mild dehydration and sunburn. Water, a little food and plenty of rest."

"Thank you for coming, Doctor," Oak replied. "I'll make sure she rests."

Doctor Jao sniffed, clearly showing she didn’t care if I rested or not.

“If it didn't go against my oath, I'd have left her to bleed out,” she declared, then allowed herself to be led out.

"What the fuck," I said to myself when I was alone again.

Forcing myself to sit up, I examined my leg more closely. No stitches, no staples. Just bright pink skin covering any sign of an injury. Experimentally, I poked it. It hurt. But not as bad as it should have. More like poking a bruise. Whatever had been in that spray bottle was the real deal.

I took a deep breath and swung my legs over the edge of the couch. No debilitating pain so far. Bracing, I pushed myself up from the couch and stood.

For about 30 seconds.

More like jelly than bone and muscle, my legs collapsed and I fell back to the couch with an oof. It seemed I was stuck here. At least for now.

Exhausted, I laid back down and closed my eyes.

---

When I woke for the third time that day, the room was growing dark, the last of the day's light casting muddy orange beams across the ceiling above me. Taking it slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and looked around.

I was alone, the door Oak and the others had used was closed.

A glass of water waited on the coffee table before me, a sandwich cut in triangles sat on a plate beside it. Carefully, I reached over and picked up one of the sandwich halves.

It looked like roast chicken on white bread. I sniffed it. It smelled like roast chicken on white bread. My stomach suddenly roared its demands and I stuffed the food into my mouth, barely chewing it in my haste to get it into me. It tasted like roast chicken on white bread.

Eagerly, I grabbed up the second half and devoured it too before downing the glass of water. I recognised the taste of the Oran extract in the water and almost immediately began to feel better.

"Merrow."

I jumped, startled by the cry, then looked down. A purple cat looked back at me.

"Meeeorow," it said.

I shrieked. Frantic, I pushed myself back onto the couch and pulled my arms and legs around my head. Yeah. I'm not proud of it. I went total foetal position.

"Arceus! What is - Queenie!" Oak shouted bursting into the room. “Queenie, please leave us for a bit.”

A hand touched my shoulder and I whimpered.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," Oak said.

His voice sounded like it was coming from deep under water.

Panic attack. Oh god. Not again. Not now.

“You’re safe,” Oak repeated. “Queenie is gone.”

I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. Eventually my heart began to slow and I was able to unfold myself.

"There we go," Oak said, looking worriedly down at me. "I apologise for Queenie. I told her to stay out but she was curious."

I nodded. I wasn't sure I could speak. I wiped my face and nodded again.

"I've never seen someone react like that to a Pokémon before," Oak said, taking a seat on a nearby recliner. "Even after an attack from a feral."

I chose to remain silent, continuing to focus on my breathing and staying calm.

"Who are you, Chloe?" he asked. He leaned forward in his chair and looked at me intently. "Where are you from?"

I pulled away from him and he seemed to get the hint, giving me some space.

What could I say?  Hi, I'm Chloe and I'm a twenty five year old computer science grad from a world where you're a cartoon character!

"I want to help you," he tried again. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Was there?

My parents would drop everything and come to me if I called asking for help. But a part of me that wouldn’t be quietened suspected that wasn't going to be possible. I sighed and let a shudder run through me as the adrenaline ran out.

“I told you, my name is Chloe Luxford,” I said. “I’m not some spy or whatever you think I am. I work for a company making tax software and rent a crappy studio apartment that I can barely afford.”

Oak shook his head.

“But where are you from? What region?” he asked. “Your accent is similar to Unovan but too different to have grown up there. Then there's your tattoos and those piercings in your lips, nose and eyebrows. You're clearly not from around here.”

“Yo, what's wrong with my tattoos and piercings?” I said. “Don't tell me Gary Oak is some old fashioned conservative type.”

“There's nothing wrong with them, per se, they just…” he said, trailing off, embarrassed.

“They what?” I demanded in a low voice.

“They make you look like a thug,” he admitted. “Traditionally, tattoos in Kanto were a sign you were a gang member.”

“Well where I come from, it's a sign you like tattoos and piercings,” I said. “Fucking hell, you sound like my grandmother.”

“I said traditionally,” Oak tried to explain. “I don't judge a person by what they do to their bodies.”

"Forget it," I shook my head and leaned back on the couch. "Man, this is so fucked up. Either I'm babbling into my straight jacket right now or I'm talking to Gary Fucking Oak."

"Professor Gary Fucking Oak," Oak corrected.

I looked over at him. Like, really looked at him.

White button up shirt tucked into brown trousers. Brown hair starting to show strands of grey. A white lab coat thrown over the top.

Just a regular looking guy.

I met his eyes.

"Professor Gary Fucking Oak," I repeated, then laughed, my voice too loud, too harsh in my own ears. "Alright, what if I told you I'm pretty sure this isn't my world?"

"I'd say that's not as outlandish as you might think," Oak said levelly.

I blinked.

Well, I hadn't expected that.

"Travellers from other worlds are well documented," Oak continued, shrugging. "Ultra Wormholes being the most well-known method, but there are cases of people coming through rifts, dropped out of portals, or brought here by powerful Pokémon."

"Pokémon," I said the word like I was trying it for the first time.

"I assume Pokémon aren't very common where you're from?" Oak asked.

"Hah!" I said with another laugh. I sounded manic. "Pokémon are everywhere back home. I sleep with one!"

Oak raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure I understand," he said.

"Pokémon is a children's media franchise, man. Games, cartoons, toys," I told him. "Pokémon aren't real."

I watched his face, trying to gauge his response but he only gazed right back at me.

"I must admit, that's difficult to imagine," Oak said at last. "I've read of worlds where Pokémon are less common or less diverse than ours, but one without any Pokémon at all?"

"Nah, man," I said. "We have Pokémon. Hell, it's like one of the biggest franchises in the world, but none of them are real. They're all made up by artists and stuff."

Oak seemed to need a minute to absorb what I'd just told him, and I found myself grinning with a kind of perverse pleasure.

It’s not every day you get to tell someone a fundamental part of their life is make believe.

"In that case," Oak said, a grin of his own spreading across his face. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you, Miss Chloe Luxford, to the world of Pokémon."

---

Bright fluorescent light bathed the white lab-coated researchers bustling about the white walled rooms, their shoes clicking smartly against the white tiled floors. All pointedly ignoring the young woman with bed-hair, no shoes and only one pant leg. The place was so recognisably a laboratory that I half expected to find I had wandered into a film set.

Except for the Pokémon.

Everywhere I turned, there was another one.

Oddish. Poliwhirl.

Following researchers or ambling about carrying things.

Abra. Nidoran.

No one seemed to pay much attention to them except to occasionally thank them or direct them in a new task. I, though, stared, open mouthed, as a purple and tan monkey the size of a child slipped past me carrying a manilla folder, its mouth twisted up in a creepy grin.

Aipom.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Oak said, seemingly oblivious to my bewilderment as he led me through the lab. “It’s just that I’m a scientist. I need proof.”

I glanced down at the man’s feet.

Espeon.

The pink-ish cat creature looked back up at me with far too intelligent eyes.

“Um, what about this?” I asked, reaching into my pocket and retrieving my phone. I unlocked it and handed it over to him.

“Fascinating,” he said, turning the device over in his hand before tapping on various apps. “I don’t recognise any of this branding or these apps. That doesn’t prove you’re not just from some distant region though.”

I followed as he continued to lead me through the bustle of the lab, unlocked a door and into a dark room. He fumbled against the wall for a moment, then a light flickered on overhead.

We were in a kitchen. Quite a nice kitchen, if I'm being honest. Rustic, but in a posh way. All gleaming polished wood and cut slabs of some kind of stone. A huge wooden dining table dominated the room and a cheery fire burned in a red brick fireplace.

“I don’t have anything else,” I said. “Can’t you like, read my mind or something?”

“With Espeon’s help, that is a possibility,” Oak said, making his way past me towards a woven wicker basket near the fireplace. “It’s not something I like doing though.”

“I’ve got games on my phone,” I said. “Pokemon games about this world and the people in it, even you.”

“Again, that sounds fascinating and I would very much like to play them, but on their own they’re not enough to prove you are indeed from another world,” he said.

Oak squatted down next to the basket and poked the lumpy blanket within. It chirruped. A small brown face pushed itself free of the blankets, followed by two large ears.

"Chloe, I'd like you to meet Ace," Oak said, smiling up at me and indicating the creature with a hand. “Ace, this is our guest, Chloe.”

"It's an Eevee," I said, stating the obvious.

Oak smiled as he scratched the Pokemon behind its large brown ears.

"Ace here is one of Queenie's kits," he said.

The named Espeon padded over to the other side of the basket and sat, looking for all the world like a proud mother as she began to lick her kit clean.

"It's super cute," I told him. "But back up, you have a way to prove what I’m saying is true but you won’t just because you don’t like it?”

Oak's smile disappeared.

“The sad truth is, Chloe, that there are organisations out there who don’t hesitate to strip someone’s mind bare in search of their secrets,” he said. “My own experiences with such people has left me with a bad taste for the act.”

“Then what? You say you need proof but you won’t let me give it to you?” I shook my head. “That’s cooked.”

Oak grimaced and stopped patting the Eevee causing it to give a little chirp of annoyance.

“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked in a soft voice. “Queenie is not gentle. You won't be able to keep anything hidden, you'd rather not have me see.”

I shook my head again, harder. Of course I didn't want someone rifling through my mind. But what choice did I have?

“Do it,” I said.

Oak's shoulders slumped and he sighed. He looked as if he'd suddenly aged ten years.

“Okay,” he agreed, relenting. “But not tonight.”

“But-”

“You're clearly exhausted and I need to prepare.”

His decision final, Oak led me to a spare bedroom and showed me where to find a bathroom en-suite and some pyjamas he'd sent an aid to purchase earlier in the day for me.

Our brief conversation had left me worn out, so I was more than happy to ignore how weird I felt about someone else buying my clothes.

After a shower I barely registered, I dressed in the plain pyjamas and climbed into the surprisingly soft bed.

I was just beginning to doze off when I heard a noise.

Immediately, I was wide awake again, memories of the Rattata flashing before my eyes.

My hand shot out for the bedside lamp.

"Mrrrrw?" said Ace, the Eevee kit sitting on the floor looking up at me.

I stared at it, my heart pounding.

It's just an Eevee, I told myself. A baby one at that. It can't hurt you.

Taking my silence as an invitation, Ace leapt up onto the bed and padded towards me.

"Eek!" I cried, thrusting my hands out to keep it away.

Warm fur pressed against my palms.

"Prrrt," Ace purred.

I lowered my hands and watched as it curled up beside me and went to sleep.

Huh. Okay.

Cautiously I reached out and ran my fingers through its fur.

Oh. My. God.

HE WAS SO SOFT!

Petting the Eevee kit, I settled back down, flicked the lamp off and closed my eyes.