Sinclair gasped, jerking his head up like he had been drowning. He immediately touched his face where his mask should be, but there was nothing, not even the lines it usually left behind. That strangeness aside, the weirder part was that he was just lying in bed, and now he wasn't. Well, more accurately, he had been dying in bed.
*So, where am I? The morgue?*
As he took in his surroundings, it became apparent that he was not, in fact, in a morgue. It looked more like a lush forest. The place sounded like one too, with birds chirping and the rustle of leaves. Tall grass tickled his bare feet and reached all the way up to his knees, which were barely covered by a flimsy hospital gown. However, no matter how odd all these things were, the greatest change between where he'd been and where he was now was the smell.
When he was in the hospital, all he could ever smell was the dry air coming from his oxygen mask. Now, the onslaught of scents mentally knocked him over- trees, manure, and the heady taste of fresh air. For a while he just stood there, breathing.
*So this is what it's like.*
Wherever he was, it couldn't be bad if he could actually breathe for once. Perhaps it was heaven, a place where Sinclair believed all wishes would come true if you'd been a good person in life.
"Shell?"
A small voice interrupted his thoughts, and he just about jumped out of his skin.
"H-hello?" he called out. It was strange, though- Sinclair's voice didn't sound anything like it usually did. Instead, the voice was strong and squeaky- like a teenager who's going through puberty.
*Then again,* he thought, *far worse things have happened to me than a voice change.*
When no response came, he tried again. "Is anyone there?"
"Shellos!"
The voice came from his feet this time. The boy glanced down and nearly had a heart attack, as nothing until now had been quite as much of a surprise.
"HOLY SHIT, A SHELLOS?"
There, standing right next to him, was a tiny pink pokemon. A. Pokemon. As thoughts began racing through his head, the shellos recognized its name and let out a garbled giggle. Its large eyes blinked up at him, a wide smile spread below.
*WHAT. What is going on here? Is this really heaven?*
His first instinct was to take a step back from the creature, but something stopped him. For one, it was a pokemon- a real live pokemon! For another, that bright pink skin and that dopey grin were way too familiar.
Sinclair rubbed the back of his neck as he assessed the shellos. For the most part, it looked just like the pokemon he knew and loved, aside from one small detail. One of the tendrils on its head was missing a small chunk, just like…
*Just like my card.*
The pokemon card he'd received from Lily, his best friend, had been torn from the top down to where the pokemon's likeness began. He remembered not caring at all, being so excited to finally own a card. Sure, he'd gotten a few since then for birthdays, but that shellos was special. In fact, no matter how embarrassing it was to admit, he'd even named the thing.
"Marzipan?"
The pink pokemon let out a shriek of joy, nuzzling Sinclair's leg just above his ankle.
"No way," he murmured. "It's really you!" He picked Marzipan up, laughing at the squishiness of its tiny body. The pokemon proceeded to lick his face, leaving a thick line of purple slobber. "Ew! Don't do that, little buddy. That's gross." Still, Sinclair kept laughing. He didn't know why, but the whole situation seemed so incredibly funny, even the dying bit.
"Now," Sinclair asserted, holding his arms out so they were face-to-face. "Where am I?"
All he got in response was a chirrup.
"Cute, but not really helpful."
Tucking the shellos under his arm, he looked around until he spotted a path situated a few feet away from the patch of tall grass. Figuring that a path was better than anything else, he trudged over to it, nearly stepping on a few massive burrs in the process.
"Well, here we go," he said to no one in particular, starting down the path.