This is my first attempt at a fanfic, and it's also fairly old...about a year actually. . It's rather Ghost Writer-centric, seeing as he was my favorite character on Danny Phantom for a while...still is, along with Technus and Vlad. Anyway, I'll let you get on with your reading...obviously, I don't own any of the characters in this story, all are property of Nickelodeon and Butch Hartman.

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Ghost Writer absent-mindedly avoided a passing ghost as he made his way back to his house. The fellow he'd almost hit threw a dirty look at him down his nose, but the master author didn't notice, engrossed as he was with his current task.

He was attempting to scribble down ideas for a new novel in one of his ever-present notebooks, but he was having a hard time getting a storyline right. Clichéd beginning here, weak characters there…all in all, his pencil seemed to be doing more crossing out than actual writing.

His legs instinctively led him down an alley, a shortcut to his library-like home. As he approached the end, another ghost caught sight of him as he passed the alley's entrance, or exit from the Ghost Writer's view. A smirk began to tweak the ghost's metallic features.

"Out of jail so soon?" he questioned in his deep, booming voice. "Walker's not one to bend his own rules."

That got Ghost Writer's attention. He finally brought his bespectacled eyes off his notebook and fixed them on the face of Skulker. "Apparently even he is capable of some Christmas spirit," he answered somewhat warily.

"Hmm…" Skulker advanced a few steps into the alley. Ghost Writer fought the instinct to back up. "I doubt he was feeling quite that generous…apparently, you're powerful even without the Quantum Keyboard." Though, his tone suggested he didn't think it likely. "Or just a trickster."

"Why should it concern you? You've broken out of Walker's jail too many times to count!" Ghost Writer attempted to walk around Skulker, but the flame-haired ghost stretched out a large arm to the opposite wall, blocking his way.

"You really thought I just stopped by to chat?" he leered. "You're much too unique a specimen to allow to escape! And without your keyboard you'd be an easy prey!"

Ghost Writer felt a twinge of fear. Without the Quantum Keyboard, most of his reality-bending powers were gone and he was left only with the 'standard' ghost powers-and his were, by ghost standards, rather weak.

A whirring of machinery made him look up at Skulker's arm-a net had sprung up out of it, and was obviously about to be shot at him. Ghost Writer ducked and leapt towards the street outside the alley, only to be caught across the chest by Skulker's other arm.

"Oof!" he fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him.

"Ha! You cannot escape the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter!" Skulker proclaimed.

"Over-confidence leads to carelessness, which leads to failure," Ghost Writer prophesized from his position on the ground.

Incensed, Skulker growled, "You suggest I wouldn't be able to catch you, you little starving artist? You're powerless without your keyboard!"

Ghost Writer gripped a nearby dumpster and pulled himself back up. "Maybe-but when I have it, even 'the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter' can't catch me to put on display." He gave an inward shudder of disgust at the last part. "And you know that-otherwise, if you'd wanted me you would have tried already."

Skulker's emerald eyes glowed with renewed anger, then squinted as his mouth contorted into a toothy smirk. "As your pelt's not much to look at anyway, I suppose it wouldn't matter if it was a little…damaged."

Ghost Writer's eyes widened in fear as Skulker produced a large, menacing gun…