Pokemon: Lord of Fear

Filming a full-length movie would require a large investment, and Edward needed more time to research whether scare tactics effective on humans would work on Pokémon. If they didn't, he'd have to find methods to frighten Pokémon specifically.

It would be better to start with a short film.

However, much like when Edward was making horror films before, he had decided not to use Ghost-type Pokémon. This time, if he was targeting the Pokémon market, there could be no humans—or at least very few.

"A short film..." Edward scratched his head. He thought of a classic animated film—Tom and Jerry.

As a timeless cartoon that appealed to both children and adults, Tom and Jerry was a classic. Even when watched as an adult, it never felt childish.

And speaking of Tom and Jerry, in the Pokémon world, there just so happened to be both cat and mouse Pokémon. The actors were already available, and as for scenes like Tom getting hit by a tree, those could be left to a special Pokémon effects company.

But Tom and Jerry wasn't a horror film, so it could only serve as a way to test the market. Edward still needed to make another short film, one specifically for Pokémon.

A microfilm.

A name popped into Edward's head.

"There were some classic microfilms in my previous life. They weren't very long—usually around two to fifteen minutes—and these microfilms could amp up the horror elements, have a fast pace, and be cheap to produce," Edward rubbed his hands together. He had seen some classic horror microfilms before.

One famous example, which later inspired James Wan to make a feature film, was the horror microfilm Lights Out.

It was only around three minutes long, but it was one of the standout horror microfilms, and if used as a template, it could be a great choice.

Moreover, the actor requirements were simple, and the set could be minimal, only needing a single house.

As long as the actors weren't terrible, it wouldn't be a problem to finish filming in a day and upload it to a video platform.

The only trouble was casting.

After all, if they chose a Zoroark to play the lead and a Gengar to play the ghost, the microfilm would shift from being a horror piece to a Pokémon battle film.

"Script..." Edward picked up a pen and paper and began to write the script for Lights Out.

[The protagonist, after finishing a shower, returns to their bedroom. When turning off the lights, they see a shadow in the hallway. They turn the lights on, and the shadow disappears. They turn the lights off again, and the shadow reappears. After repeating this several times, the shadow suddenly appears next to the protagonist. The protagonist is scared and uses tape to seal the light switch, retreating to their bed.]

[The protagonist hears footsteps in the hallway. The hallway light is turned off. The protagonist, frightened, curls up under the blanket. They notice the bedroom lamp flickering. They reach out to secure the wire and realize that the hallway light wasn't off. The protagonist sighs in relief but turns to find a ghost, who switches off the lamp.]

Two short lines of script.

But these two lines were enough to make it one of the scariest short films of its time.

"This short film's inspiration likely came from the way human vision can play tricks during sudden changes in light, which was then turned into a terrifying short film," Edward thought while looking at the script in his hand.

Human eyes, when faced with abrupt changes in light, often perceive things differently. One reason for this is the time it takes for the eyes to adjust, and the other is that the brain tries to fill in the details of what's being seen. The more we imagine something frightening, the scarier our brains make it.

In truth, Lights Out wasn't all that scary. Generally, the first time you watched it, the sudden music might make you jump. But on subsequent viewings, the fear factor decreases drastically.

However, it was undeniable that in the world of short films, this was a solid choice. And since Pokémon had electric lights, it fit the theme well.

"For humans, it's simple. Just two actors are enough," Edward chewed on the pen in thought.

The human version would be easy—just cast two actors who looked right for the part and made sure they fit the horror genre's "uncanny valley" effect.

But what about Pokémon?

With so many types of Pokémon, it would be impossible to make a version of each Pokémon that matched this "uncanny valley" feel, as it would be too expensive.

"Casting..." Edward closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. Now the only obstacle between him and a Pokémon version of Lights Out was the casting.

The protagonist definitely couldn't have any fighting power; they needed to appear weak to maximize the fear. The greater the disparity in strength between the protagonist and the monster, the stronger the fear. Otherwise, if the protagonist had the ability to fight back, it wouldn't be a horror film anymore.

In horror films, the protagonist couldn't have the ability to resist. If they did, it would be the villain's doing to make the protagonist more desperate.

"Jigglypuff?" Edward raised an eyebrow, picturing a soft, round Jigglypuff in his mind.

Then he replayed the script in his head: Jigglypuff finishes its shower, sings a song, and when the lights go out, it sees a Machoke (its counter) striking poses in the dark... wait, no, Jigglypuff is a Normal/Fairy type, so it would need a Metagross to strike poses.

"Ah, this is so troublesome," Edward pinched his brow, but then he realized he was overthinking it. There was no need to specifically use a Pokémon with a counter ability. As long as it was scary enough, it would work.

Edward instinctively looked at Q, who was twisting around on the desk.

Q's true form could scare even Meowth out of its skin. If Q played the role, it could tear off its disguise when the lights went out.

But that wouldn't work either. Edward thought it would be better to just use a Pokémon with a naturally terrifying appearance, one that could deliver a visual shock. This could also help test how Pokémon respond to fear. If this type of jump-scare worked, then perhaps Dead Silence could indeed get a special Pokémon version.

"Well, since Dead Silence is still showing, and One Missed Call is still a bit too early, we might as well test the market," Edward decided to test the market and then called in the staff who had previously arranged auditions for the company.

"These are the casting requirements. Go find people to audition, but make it clear that this is just a short film, around three minutes long," Edward delegated the task.

The short horror film could be found on a small site for anyone interested.

(End of Chapter)