"A ghost stakeout?" Brock asked incredulously, emitting a soft, amused chuckle. "You’re kidding, right?"

Ash gave him a face. "What’s so wrong with that? I gotta find this stupid ghost. It’s bugging me!"

Misty nodded drearily. Her arms were wrapped worriedly around Togepi. "I’d sure like to get one good night’s sleep." She looked down at the tabletop. "Maybe we should try to find this thing."

The three kids were seated at the kitchen table, their empty plates in front of them. Still clad in their pajamas, all they could think of was Ash’s encounter last night.

Brock sighed as his eyes darted from Ash to Misty. Ash looked somewhat determined while Misty looked upset enough to cry. Breathing in and out deeply, he turned to Ash.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" Brock asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

Misty’s eyes rose to look at Ash, who just shrugged. "I wouldn’t even know where to begin," he admitted sadly.

Misty licked her lips. She was displaying absolutely no distinguishable facial expression. Her face was as blank as a clean sheet of paper. She had gotten a good sleep last night, aside from the disproportionate rendezvous with Delia. Even though she had not encountered anything supernatural, the whole deal had left her shaken up and totally disoriented. She wanted it all to end.

Pushing a strand of her loose ginger hair behind her ear, she cleared her throat. She leaned across the table. "Well, let’s think of it this way," she began, drawing the two boys’ attention. Her eyes were still fixated down. "The only times that we heard the weird stuff was at night, right?"

"Well, I dunno," Brock responded, leaning on the table, also. "The typewriter thing was kinda in the evening."

"But it was still dark," Ash pointed out, his eyebrows rising at the realization that they were coming onto something.

"It seems to love making its appearance in the middle of the night," Misty added, shaky in her words. "It’s already done that twice."

"Misty’s right. Whatever this thing is, it only comes out in the dark," Brock said.

"Which is what ghosts do," Misty concluded, her voice drained suddenly.

A moment of silence passed, and the three stared down at the table. Each had a different thought going through their head. But each thought was virtually similar, as they tried to formulate some way of solving the mystery that had befallen them.

Ash broke the silence by arching his back in a snap. "Wait a second!" he shouted surprisingly. "What about the first time I saw it? That was in the middle of the day!"

"Hey, you’re right," Misty replied, a baffled look coming to her face.

"Well, there goes that," commented Brock, turning to his friend. "I don’t know what to think now."

Ash groaned. "Just great!" he exclaimed loudly, burying his face in his hands. "I thought we were getting somewhere."

"We can get somewhere, though," Brock said. "Let’s just think of what’s happened so far. Okay, first we got your tapping behind the wall . . ."

"Then the typewriter," Misty put in, holding up two fingers in counting the events.

"Don’t forget that stupid picture," Ash mumbled, thinking about how his mom had made him vacuum the floor repeatedly of every last piece of glass. She’d believe it to be the product of senseless "horsing around."

Misty put up another finger. "Ash’s seeing the ghost," she squeaked, a chill running down her spine at the mention of it.

"The tapping again the other night," Brock said, making five.

Misty shook her head, recalling how she had almost died of fright that night. "Stupid tapping," she muffled silently.

Suddenly, Brock engaged into a deep thought. "Stupid tapping . . ." he started silently. "That’s it!" he exclaimed, a broad smile lengthening on his face.

"What’s it, Brock?" Ash asked.

Brock beamed. "The tapping behind the wall! That’s the only place the ghost has appeared more than once!"

Misty and Ash joined him in smiling. They suddenly felt victorious, Brock’s realization lifting their spirits.

"So, what are you thinking?" Misty squealed in a perturbed manner, gripping Brock’s pajama top in her fist.

"You think that that’s where it is?" Ash asked.

Brock gave his friends a proud smile. "Well, that’s where we’ve experienced it the most. Maybe it’ll make another grand appearance!"

"And we’ll be ready for it!" Ash grinned, rising his fist determinedly. The thought of ghost hunting was beginning to stimulate his excitement.

All of a sudden, Misty shrank back in her chair as a nervous grin conquered her face. "Uh . . . we will?" she cheeped, sweatdropping.

"Why, what’s the matter, Misty?" Ash asked worriedly. His eyes suddenly narrowed mischievously. "You aren’t scared, are you?"

Misty giggled anxiously. With the sudden leap her heart had taken after she had thought of seeing the ghost, she wondered if she really was ready for it. "Who, me?"

"Yeah, you," Ash replied guilefully, snickering boyishly at her. "You’ll do it, won’t you?"

Ash’s smile melted into her rapidly and she shivered. I’ll do it for you, Ash. With a shaky hand, she displayed the victory sign and managed a brave smile. "Uh . . . I’m not scared at all!"

She suddenly leapt out of her chair and looked down at the startled boys. "Count me in!" she chimed uproariously. "Let’s show this ghost who’s boss around here!"

Ash, Misty, and Brock stood in Ash’s room, their attentions all drawn to the wall behind the dresser. While Misty looked at it worriedly and Brock looked at it unemotionally, Ash glared at it determinedly. The blank spot on the wall where the Celadon City photo had been stood out considerably. They were silent for a moment, until Misty’s shaky voice broke it.

"So, what’s the deal with this wall?" she asked sheepishly.

"That’s what we’re gonna find out," Brock replied. He turned to Ash. "What do you think, Ash? Got any lead we can follow?"

Ash stroked his chin and stared at the wall momentarily. He was positively certain that the knocking had come from it. He shivered slightly as he thought about a ghost the only way he thought of one -- covered all in white, decaying skeleton hands protruding from it, its face unseen and dark and sunken in, floating above the ground silently. Ash wondered if that’s possibly what was behind the wall . . .

"Behind the wall!" Ash cried suddenly, making Misty and Brock flinch. Pikachu almost slipped off his shoulder in surprise and gripped his claws tightly into Ash.

"Huh?" Misty and Brock responded in unison.

Ash spun to face them excitedly. "Behind the wall!" he repeated, pointing to it. "Behind that wall is a crawl space! I just remembered that now!"

"A crawl space?" Misty asked, cocking her head.

Ash smiled. "Yeah, a crawl space! I used to hide in it all the time! It’s right behind there."

Brock narrowed his eyes confusingly. "What are you thinking?"

"You think there’s something back there?" Misty said fearfully.

Ash looked timidly at the wall. "I dunno. I mean . . . the tapping did sound like it was coming from behind there . . ."

A chill ran down the three kids’ spines. Pikachu’s fur ruffled timorously.

Misty smiled weakly. "I have an idea! Why don’t we all get dressed and go out and battle? Whaddah ya say, guys?"

Ash didn’t respond, or even look at Misty for that matter. In the next second, he twirled around and dashed out of his room. Misty and Brock exchanged a flustered look, then bolted off after him.

They followed Ash into Delia’s room, and watched him bewilderedly as he opened the door to his mother’s closet.

"What are doing, Ash?" Misty asked agitatedly as Ash dove into the closet. Pikachu hopped off before getting tangled between clothes.

Ash was buried halfway into the closet, engulfed by the hanging clothes all around him. He pulled himself out, a huge wad of shoeboxes and bags in his arms.

"There’s two ways to get into that crawl space," he told them, dumping the items on the floor beside him. "From here, and from my closet. And there’s absolutely no way I can get through the crap in my closet."

"Oh yes, then by all means let’s rip your mom’s closet apart," Misty retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Are you actually planning on going into the crawl space?" Brock asked incredulously. "Do you think you’re gonna see something in there?"

Ash shrugged. "Hey, this stupid ghost has gotten me into enough trouble already. If this thing just happens to be in there, at least I’ll know for sure. And then I can get it out of my house."

At that, he dug into the closet again, throwing out another box. The closet was dark and smelled of Glade plug-ins, making Ash’s eyes water. He reached in front of him and fumbled around more hidden treasures until his fingers found the latch. The familiar latch that he had unlocked many times when he was younger. Ash remembered loving the crawl space, pretending it was his own special hide-out. It was also the ultimate place for hide-and-seek when he had played occasionally with Gary. Gary could never find him, and Ash won the game proudly.

Misty and Brock could hear a loud click as Ash unhooked the latch, and then a clunk as the door came out in his hands. Carefully placing it aside, Ash squinted as a blast of musty dust blew into his face. He coughed and waved his hands in front of his face to keep the dust away. It had been a while since anyone had been in there; Delia had closed it up after Ash had gotten hurt on a loose nail inside. And she never kept anything in it, either.

It was too dark to see a thing. "Hey guys, can you flip a light on here?" his muffled voice asked.

Misty sighed and reached up at the pull-string. The light bulb came to life, but unfortunately Ash couldn’t see much into the crawl space. The entrance to it was illuminated enough, and Ash looked at it perplexedly.

"Huh," he said simply.

"What?" Brock’s voice seemed so distant, as all the clothes were insulating Ash’s earshot.

Ash stared at the entrance. "This crawl space looks a lot smaller than it used to."

Misty rolled her eyes while Brock shook his head.

"Well, duh, Ash!" Misty shouted. "How long’s it been since you’ve gone in there?"

Ash chuckled softly. "I dunno. Maybe three years." He thought for a moment. "I don’t think I can fit in this anymore."

He heard his friends sigh loudly.

"Do you see anything in there?" Brock asked.

Ash bent down lower on his elbows to glance in. It was only a small space, it’s only purpose for insulation. It could fit maybe a box or two, but only a small child such as Ash could have ever fit in it.

Suddenly, Ash got an idea. "Hey, Pikachu! Come in here, will ya?"

Pikachu’s ears pricked. "Pi?"

"C’mon! It’s okay!" Ash called out from deep inside the closet.

Pikachu slowly made his way into the closet, popping out from underneath Ash’s crouched position. Ash looked down and Pikachu glanced up into his trainer’s upside-down face.

"It’s all up to you, buddy," Ash said softly but firmly to his Pokémon. "I can’t fit in there, but you can. Waddah ya say? Will ya go in there and check it out?"

Pikachu looked surprisingly into Ash’s face, and his ears lowered unenthusiastically.

"Pika . . ." he moaned softly, shaking his head.

Ash could see his Pokémon trembling slightly. He frowned sadly, and rubbed Pikachu’s back.

"Pikachu, don’t be afraid," Ash said soothingly. "I would go in there if I could, but I’m too big. You’re the smallest one here. Don’t you want to be the hero and see if there’s anything in there?"

Pikachu took a glance inside the dark crawl space, then looked fearfully back at Ash. Ash smiled warmly and encouragingly at his pal, and after gulping loudly, Pikachu nodded. He’d do this for Ash, even if he wasn’t thrilled with it. Pikachu didn’t exactly know what to expect, but after Ash showed his appreciation by stoking his head energetically, Pikachu didn’t care.

The Pokémon put on a brave face and proceeded into the crawl space. Darkness suddenly engulfed him, and almost instantaneously, Pikachu drew back nervously.

"What’s the matter, Pikachu?" Ash asked.

"Pika pikachu pi," Pikachu replied, his eyes glimmering in the dim light.

"You can’t see anything?"

Pikachu nodded.

Ash thought for a moment. "Hey, Misty?"

"Now what, Ash?" Misty asked, sounding a little annoyed. "What’s going on in there? Can we get dressed yet?"

Ash sighed. "Misty, could you go into my room and get my flashlight? Pikachu can’t see a thing in here."

"You’re making Pikachu go in there?!" Misty yelled incredulously. "You’re sending him in as bait?!"

"I can’t fit in there, Misty!" Ash shouted back agitatedly. "C’mon, will you go get the stupid flashlight?"

"Ash, if some ghost was in there, wouldn’t ya think it would’ve come out already?" Brock asked, making Ash doubtful for a moment. He looked into the crawl space, seeing nothing but darkness. No mysterious glow or floating white sheet. Nothing. Unless . . . it didn’t want to be seen.

"Just please go get the flashlight," he implored again.

Misty trotted off into Ash’s room and returned with his flashlight. She knelt down and knocked it lightly into Ash’s backside, which was protruding slightly from the closet.

"Here," she said simply, and watched as Ash’s arm came around to get it. "I hope there’s still battery juice left."

"Yeah," Ash replied, thinking of how they had used the flashlight a few nights ago to play Capture the Flag in his backyard. "It should, though."

Ash flipped the switch on, and the flashlight came to life, blasting a sharp beam into Pikachu’s face. Ash smiled contentedly and shined the light into the crawl space. Immediately visible were dark, wooden walls covered in many places with soft, pink pillows of insulation. They were tied back tightly with pieces of heavy rope, from which cobwebs extended from to wherever. Both Ash and his Pokémon looked into the crawl space attentively.

Ash brought the light out of the space and shined it into his face. "Well, Pikachu," he said. "I’m counting on you, buddy. Chase that ghost out of there."

Pikachu hesitantly put on a determined face and nodded. "Pika!" he exclaimed, and made his way into the crawl space. He crouched down as he walked in slowly, shaking his long ears free of cobwebs that had caught on. Silence invaded the atmosphere, and the only thing audible was the soft clicking of Pikachu’s claws on the wood.

"Does Pikachu see anything?" Misty asked from outside.

Ash didn’t respond as the light allowed him to watch Pikachu’s lightning bolt tail disappear into the crawl space. He could tell that Pikachu was still nervous, but Ash knew that he could do it. He had faith in all his Pokémon, especially Pikachu. If Pikachu could find a ghost and defeat it, he could help Ash come out of the Pokémon League victorious.

"Pika pi! Chu pika!" Pikachu cried out to his trainer, turning around to face Ash. He was complaining that the light wasn’t enough. For the past few seconds, Pikachu had been wandering into darkness.

Ash sweatdropped. "Heh, sorry Pikachu," he responded. "Guess I feel a lot better if I’m seeing you, but it’s you who needs the light right now."

Pikachu nodded once firmly and Ash brought the light up to go over Pikachu’s body.

Pikachu turned his head back around, and emitted a high-pitched wail. Illuminating from the darkness were two bright, blinding slits shining back at him. In a second, the slits opened wider and brighter. Pikachu’s fur stood on end, and in an instant, he flipped around and bolted out of the closet.

"Pikachu?!" Ash called out confusingly and worriedly as Pikachu blasted out of the crawl space, cowering underneath Ash’s body. The Pokémon gripped fearfully onto Ash’s arm, shielding his face away.

"Pikachu, what happened?" Ash asked nervously, fear rising in his voice. "Did you see something in there?"

Pikachu nodded, not opening his eyes. He kept them clenched shut, and he tightly pressed his face into the creases of Ash’s pajamas. "Pi . . ." he groaned loudly.

"What happened?" Brock cried from outside.

"Did Pikachu see something in there?" Misty screeched. She gripped tightly onto Brock, and the two found themselves unintentionally backing up. They stopped when they knocked into Delia’s bed from behind.

"I think so," Ash replied. He looked down at Pikachu. "Pikachu, what did you see?"

"Chuuuuu . . ." Pikachu moaned, translated simply as "a ghost."

Ash shivered. So there was something in there. He didn’t ask Pikachu for any more information, and he certainly wasn’t going to make him go back in there. He glanced into the crawl space fearfully as he rubbed his trembling Pokémon.

"Pikachu, go back to Misty and Brock," Ash ordered lightly, not taking his eyes away from the crawl space.

Pikachu looked up at him questioningly.

"Just go," he told him again. His eyes were narrowed in anger and determination. "I’m gonna get this ghost out of here."

For a moment, Pikachu didn’t want Ash to go. But the look on his face was incontestable, and there was no stopping him. Pikachu obediently but reluctantly made his way out of the closet.

As soon as Brock and Misty saw Pikachu, Misty shuddered. "Ash, what are you doing in there?"

"It’s my turn to go in," Ash replied, choking in fear. "Nobody scares my Pikachu and gets away with it."

"But Ash, what did he see?!" Misty begged for the answer.

"Is there really something in there?" Brock called out. His heart began to pound, and for a second he wanted to reach in and grab Ash out. Or go in himself. "Ash, what’s going on?"

Ash didn’t reply. Sucking in his gut, he crouched down and wedged his way into the crawl space entrance.

STAY TUNED FOR THE EXCITING CONCLUSION!