Chapter 10: The Ghost of Holly Finch

Holly barely remembered falling onto the cot, only that exhaustion had finally claimed her.

The last few days had been a blur of survival, battle, and strategy. Her body was worn, her muscles screaming for rest, but her mind refused to quiet. The headache pulsed behind her skull, a warning sign she had felt before but never this strong.

She curled onto her side, her fingers still tangled in Sakumo's fur as he lay beside the cot, his slow breathing grounding her.

She tried to focus on the warmth of the Ranger outpost, on the knowledge that she was safe.

But sleep was waiting for her, and with it—something else.

The gunfire was deafening.

The warehouse smelled like gasoline and sweat, the air thick with screams. Holly Finch moved through the chaos with precision, her body running on pure adrenaline and years of training.

They had raided safe houses before—but this one was different.

This time, there was a child.

Ten years old. Barefoot. Covered in bruises.

Holly could barely hear her own voice as she barked orders into her radio, trying to get support, trying to get an evac ready, trying to do something to make sure this wasn't another dead-end mission where the victims suffered and the criminals walked free.

She turned the corner, her gun raised, and saw the girl.

Her arms were wrapped around herself, her body trembling, but her eyes—God, those eyes were so empty.

"Come on," Holly had urged. "I'm here to help. We're getting you out of here."

The girl took one hesitant step forward.

A bullet ripped through the air.

Pain exploded through Holly's chest, burning white-hot, stealing her breath. Her knees hit the concrete before she even registered she was falling.

She heard shouting. Her teammates. Someone screaming her name.

The child bolted toward her, but hands—other hands, cruel hands—grabbed her and pulled her back into the shadows.

No.

Holly tried to reach out, but her limbs wouldn't move.

Her head was spinning. Blood soaked her tactical vest, warm and thick. She couldn't tell who had fired the shot—friendly fire or enemy? It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the girl was still in their hands.

Holly Finch was dying.

And in her final moments, she had one thought.

Let me have a peaceful life next time.

Holly woke with a start.

Her body jolted upright, breath coming in harsh gasps, sweat slicking her skin. The phantom pain of a bullet wound burned through her chest, though she knew it wasn't real.

She wasn't in a warehouse. She wasn't in Texas.

She was in the Kanto region, in a Ranger outpost, with a Growlithe curled protectively against her side.

But that dream—no, that memory—still clung to her like a second skin.

She lifted a shaky hand, pressing it to her chest where the bullet had hit in her past life. Her fingers met smooth, unbroken skin. No wound. No scars.

Just a new life, one she had been given because someone or something had heard her last wish.

Peaceful, huh? She exhaled, running a hand through her damp hair. Didn't exactly turn out that way.

Sakumo let out a sleepy whine, his ears twitching as he stirred. His warm amber eyes blinked up at her, his concern evident.

Holly let out a slow breath, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay, boy. Just… bad dreams."

Sakumo didn't look convinced.

She rubbed his head gently. "I'm really here. With you. That's what matters."

The words felt half like a reassurance to him and half like a reminder to herself.

She knew now.

She wasn't just Holly Ketchum.

She had been someone else before. Someone who had fought, who had killed, who had died in the middle of a mission that never ended.

And she had been reborn in a world where she was still fighting.

She exhaled. Maybe that was just fate.

And maybe, just maybe, this time—she would do things differently.