The Story of Specter
She felt agony bubble within her heart, not unlike the anticipation of an irrational fear beneath an incessant urge to retain normality. This did not discourage her from continuing on, her heart pushed to its limits as it hid away her emotions. War waged on in the silence, knowing full well not to distract her mind from the exterior battle.
One side took hold for a time. Blissful acceptance washed over her body, but she gave no outward indication what she felt. And the young ghost was feeling quite a lot at the moment.
There was no need to worry about death from over-exerting herself, and she relished the feeling of using her powers without limit. However, the cruelty weighing on her heart struggled with her mind and the assumption of morals inside her brain.
As a clone, was there any real need for morals? She'd long contemplated the existence of a soul within her, and what exactly granted her free will while her other cloned-siblings spoiled her father by not having any of her defiance.
When she severed her opponent's head, she was still envisioning one of her brothers melting to goop. The ectoplasm in her hands was not the bubbling liquid she remembered, but smelled all too familiar. This wasn't her fault, this was merely another test of her father's. It was yet another attempt to train her into his perfected murderous weapon. At least that was what she assumed as she tuned out the cheers and returned to her place between the guards. She looked with mild interest towards Walker's throne above the Pit, only to see his familiar glare.
Walker cared little for this particular pet. She was all too willing to kill after her first few fights, and he was irritated that she hadn't spoken since arriving. Sure, he may have cut out her tongue when she got there, but after winning seven fights her wish was to be fully healed. She had been of some amusement to the warden at the beginning, but after three actual fights (the first seven were all just weaklings to break her spirit), her eyes lost their glow. She simply attacked on instinct, as if her mind were elsewhere. Even pain did not rouse her from this state, as much as Walker relished her screams of agony when he'd plunge his knife deep into her shoulder and twist.
For months, Walker watched this young half-ghost devastate whatever opponent he threw at her. He soon grew weary of his pet and began to search for a new one. He passed over the girl's biological brother on the assumption that he would be just as boring.
After sending for some bounty hunters to discuss the kidnapping of a new prize, he oversaw one final match of hers. It was against his "rules" to move on to a new hobby without at least a last hurrah. And setting her up against the second strongest fighter in the Pits was his nice gesture to his fading hobby.
The fight went well, the veteran warrior ghost slashing wildly at her with his heavy sword, impossibly fast despite the irremovable armor he wore. Pushed to the defensive, Dani was rarely able to get a good blow in. But backing up and attacking with energy blasts and wails proved ineffective against the strong armor. The quick sword deterred her from attacking close-range, which was honestly her greatest advantage in most fights.
She was just finishing a last ditch attempt at a ghostly wail, which due to her subdued emotions, was actually quite weak, when the warrior pushed her against the ghost shield and rammed his sword through her heart.
A lot of things happened at once in that split moment. A beam of light that had begun to form after the wail had exhausted the girl ghost hung in the air and shattered as the sword pierced her heart. For the smallest second, her hair became black and her back phased through the ghost shield just a centimeter. Her hair messily fell, becoming white as her head toppled forward.
The ghost shield then wavered as it sent shocks through the sword to both fighters. Dropping the sword, the warrior backed up, daring to smile in triumph. The smell of burning flesh made him take another step back, hoping she'd dissolve into ectoplasm soon so he could leave. The warrior then thought to retrieve his sword before the goo could mess it up.
But another hand grabbed and pulled out the sword. The now full-ghost slammed the sword into the sandy muck and wailed so loud the entire audience covered their ears. All except Walker, who twitched in surprise. The wail full of vengeance and pain brought the warrior to his hands and knees.
"My swan song, just for you." She said in a raspy voice, her eyes blazing like green suns as green blood pooled down her back. She grabbed the ghost by his neck and floated into the air, letting him dangle by his neck. "Would you like an encore?"
"Hhhh-nohh" The ghost garbled out, trying to break free from her hold.
"Then tell me who I am." She snarled.
"hhhhhI… I… don-" His reply was cut short as she wailed again at him at point blank range. She watched as his eyes rolled back and his body went limp.
Not satisfied, she charged her hands with ectoplasm and ripped her blazing fingers through the warrior ghost's neck. "I am Specter, and you are nothing." His body reduced to a sloppy mess of green blood and a bemused smile formed on her face.
And so Specter was born. Her transformation from half to fully ghost intrigued Walker, and solidified his newfound resolve to get that other Halfling into his Pits. The warden grinned at the irony. The boy's clone was almost boring enough to save him. Almost.
Little did anyone know how much a small rat was smiling at his latest achievement. All was going according to plan.
"Twenty-one wins. You get a wish." Walker said as he barged into Specter's room. The cot was on its side and she continued throwing kicks and punches at the wall, ignoring him until Desiree entered. The warden gripped his knife tighter but held himself back. He had other ways to torture this ghost.
"Lucky, lucky me, huh?" Specter said, spreading her legs to stretch. A sly grin formed on her face. "That guy got me thinking… I want to be able to make daggers and swords appear on a whim!" She almost yelled. Her entire aura was different, like she knew no fear.
Walker didn't wait to hear Desiree grant the wish. He pushed the button that activated the young ghost's collar. Relishing the screams of agony, Walker didn't pay any heed to Desiree when she left the room. "Danielle Phantom." He began, letting off the button as she trembled on her hands and knees before him. "How would you like-"
She mumbled something.
"Either speak up or don't interrupt!" He planted a firm kick to her head, knocking her to the ground. It wasn't hard enough to knock her out, though. That wasn't as much fun.
"That's not my name." She said in a small, angry voice. Walker raised his eyebrow at that. "I'm Specter."
"Alright then, Specter," Walker said in a voice that sounded as pleasant as sandpaper rubbing on a chalkboard. "I'm bringing in your brother. You haven't been entertaining enough to save his life from the Pits."
"So?" She asked. There was a long pause. Walker was not used to prisoners not reacting to his threats as he expected them to. "If I had a brother and he left me in here to die, why should I care if he comes to join?"
"You really have forgotten…" Walker scowled. "I sincerely hope Phantom is more entertaining to break."
"Have fun with that." She replied, spitting on his shoe. She wasn't able to see him leave. The collar activated until she passed out.