Who would have thought ten years could change a man's life so drastically? That was the question that was haunting Vlad Masters these days. He sighed, slowly raising his old, worn out body from his chair, a solomn look on his old, sunken face. He sure hadn't, that was for sure. But then again, he hadn't expected a lot of things to happen. Yet, nevertheless, they did.
He shook his head, raggedy hair flopping over his shoulders. But the old man paid no heed to it, his mind elsewhere. It was hard to believe he used to be a man of power someone people both respected and feared. Ha. Feared. That was something Vlad hadn't been in a long time. But it was time enough.
Making his way over to a cobwebbed table in the corner of his room, Vlad's grey-blue eyes fell upon a collection of faded photos, set in frames, decorating the wooden surface. And tears formed in the old man's eyes. Faces. So many faces….gone. Friends, enemies, employees, all having met the same, horrible end. It wasn't fair. There were so many of them-so many people he'd never treated with the deference they deserved. And never have the chance to.
As he gazed at the pictures, he noticed one to the far left placed face-down. Curious, Vlad picked it up, wondering who the photo was of and why it had fallen. But when he looked at it, a pained expression crossed his face, and tears formed in his eyes.
The photo was of a girl, no more than twelve years old, with white hair tied in a ponytail and glowing green eyes. She wore a black and white out-fit, revealing her mid-drift-and a care-free smile on her cheerful face. "Danielle," he murmured hoarsly, recognizing the girl instantly. Sadness struck him as he studied the picture longingly, memories of the past flooding his mind. Danielle….his Danielle….his greatest creation, his pride and joy, though he had failed to tell her that. In fact, as each day came and went, he realized there were many things he failed to tell that poor girl.
Like letting her know her father really loved her.
All those times she worked with him, done his bidding, he'd never taken into consideration her feelings towards him. She had called him 'daddy' hadn't she? Did as she was told because she wanted to, didn't she? Anything to please the man who treated her like a real daughter.
But he hadn't. Not in the slightest bit. He snapped at her, called her names….gave her no more respect than he had any of his other clones. Yet she still continued to try to please him. Even though she knew she'd never be anything more to him than a carbon copy of the ghost boy, Danny Phantom.
Danny Phantom. The very thought of his name made Vlad shudder in fear. Fear and hatred. It was his fault: it was all his fault. And what's more, the old man knew it, too. Even though he'd tried to deny it all these years, when all came down to the truth, Vlad was forced to accept the fact that the boy wouldn't have been the man...the monster….he was today if he hadn't listened to him….if he hadn't….interefered. None of this would have happened if he hadn't honored the wishes of a boy who had seen everyone he'd ever cared about destroyed before his very eyes. He had wanted nothing more than to help the boy, ease his pain….but by doing so, Vlad had created a being who felt nothing-no love, no pain, no logic. And in turn, he had watched the people he had known-the people he had loved-murdered. His friends….his associates….even his little girl….gone.
He let out a sob, placing the old photo back on the table with the others. Ten years really can change a man's life, he reflected closing his eyes. Too many things left unsaid. Too many things left undone.