Hi there, it's Hammy again! I really hope you like this fic! Anyway, go on and do what you are here for (reading this fic in case you've forgotten) and I'll see you at the bottom!

Why am I here?

Why do I exist?

How can I exist?

These questions always seem to come to my mind whenever I'm alone. For me that doesn't always mean that I am literally alone, I can feel alone in a crowd of people. I'm feeling more and more distanced from humanity lately.

You see I'm not human, not completely anyway. I'm half human, and half something else. Half-ghost. Not completely alive nor completely dead. Perpetually existing somewhere in between. It gives new meaning to the phrase 'living life on the line'; my line is the line between life and death.

It's all due to an accident I had in my parents' lab almost two years ago. My parents are 'paranormal scientists', but that's just a more scientific way of saying that they study ghosts. In hindsight, they weren't very good at their jobs, they still aren't, but at the time they were considered the best in the field of ghost research. Though, as there were no others who studied it, I'm not sure if that was much of an achievement. At the time they were trying to build a portal into the 'Ghost Zone' a theoretical, at the time, 'zone' where the ghosts lived. They had little success, but on the morning of my accident they had a breakthrough and, convinced it was about to work, they called for my sister and myself to come to their lab while they tested it out for the first time.

Once we had arrived, my father decided to plug it in. There was a dazzling flash of green sparks, but nothing else happened so my parents decided to give up and try again so they left along with my sister, leaving me alone in the lab. It was then that my phone decided to ring in my pocket, startling me out of my reverie. It was Tucker; he wanted to know if himself and my other friend Sam could come over. I knew that my parents were not to be disturbed and that they would understand if my friends came over, we practically lived in each other's homes anyway, so I said yes.

They arrived soon after, first Sam and then Tucker, and were ushered into the lab by my sister as I had not left. It was Sam's idea to look inside the machine, she hated when my parents were disappointed when something didn't work so she wanted to see if there was anything they had overlooked in their excitement. I reluctantly agreed and went to pull on a Hazmat suit, you could never be too careful when my parents' inventions were concerned. Tucker and Sam, even though it was her idea, refused to go in, so I was alone.

I ventured forth slowly, placing my hand against the wall so I wouldn't trip. I was inside the machine before anything happened, my hand, still on the wall, brushed against something on the wall. I barely had time to recognise that it was a button before I was assaulted by unimaginable pain. I can't describe the pain, words aren't enough, but I can say that I have never felt anything like it before or since. It seemed to go on forever, but later Sam told me that it was more like five minutes, but eventually it stopped and I collapsed on the ground, exhausted but alive, or so I thought, and fell unconscious soon after.

Eventually I came around, and, thinking nothing was wrong, made to get up. I couldn't. My hand, which I was trying to use to support myself, had gone through the floor. My expression of horror seemed to be reflected in the faces of my friends, but it was Tucker who was first to speak,

"What the hell, man?"

I could only stare at him, it was Sam who first came to her senses enough to shuffle over to me, mirror in hand, so I could see what had happened.

The first thing I noticed was that I was faintly glowing, not glowing like all of those skincare-product manufacturing companies say your skin will be if you use their products, no I mean actually glowing like I had a couple of low-wattage light bulbs placed behind my skin. My, previously white with black boots, collar and gloves, Hazmat suit was now black with white boots, collar and gloves. My unruly black hair was now a stark bleached white, though still as untameable as ever, but the most disturbing things I noticed were my eyes, instead of pale blue they were now blazing a luminous green. The imagined colour of acid or, I didn't want to think too much about it considering everything else… ectoplasm. I also seemed to be floating a couple of inches off the floor.

I tried to keep the thoughts from my mind, that I was dead, that I was a ghost. What would I tell my parents? How would they react? How could I explain it to my sister? My friends? Though nothing stopped a grin from curling my lips when I thought of what I could do to Dash and the rest of the A-list. I think it was this eerie grin which knocked Tucker out of his reverie and caused him to again do what he was very good at, stating the obvious at the worst possible moment,

"Dude, you're a ghost!"

Over the following couple of days I gained control of my newfound powers, intangibility, flight, invisibility and the ability to produce ecto-blasts, and used them, in a very obvious superhero based cliché, to save my town from the ghosts threatening to overtake the town.*

I've had two years to get stronger and to gain control of these powers, as well as gaining a couple more like my ice-powers and my ghostly wail, and to face off against many enemies multiple times like Skulker, Technus, my arch-enemy Vlad Plasmius/Masters and the ever-present Box Ghost. Other enemies were harder to overcome, like the All-powerful Ghost King Pariah Dark or his lieutenant the Fright Knight, but I always triumph in the end, but never without help from my friends or later my sister when she found out my secret.

Now though, I feel drained after every fight. My powers had been getting stronger and I no longer had to change back to human form after using my ghostly wail, but now even using my intangibility to retrieve my ghost hunting journal from the space in the wall above my bed, where I hide it to keep it away from prying eyes, is a struggle. I'm starting to think that the ghost fighting and lack of sleep and proper food for the past two years. I could blame it on the powers themselves but Plasmius has had them a lot longer than me and nothing like this has ever happened to him so I highly doubt they are the cause of my extreme fatigue.

*(A/N: Has anyone else not noticed this? If anyone gets any type of superpowers then they must immediately choose to become immensely evil or immensely good. There is never an in-between, once they have the powers then they must choose a side and can never again stand on the side-lines.)

Yes, at the moment this is just a short re-hash of Danny's transformation and is really nothing special, only the first few and last few lines threaten what is to come. Tell me if I should continue, I have a good idea of where this is going, I have a couple more written, and it could be quite good, but it is your choice if I should continue. I'd like at least 2-3 people to be somewhat interested, placing it on your alert list is enough, but, as I have so much more on my plate at the moment with school and stuff, that I am unwilling to continue unless there is some form of interest. I'm not being needy, I'm just prioritising!

Also please notify be of any selling or grammar mistakes in this fic or any other fics already posted or that are yet to be posted. Constructive criticism like that is always welcome. Just please don't pull me up on spelling mistakes which are due to my use of British English (having s instead of z, or spelling colour/color) I am fully aware of them that is just how I spell those words.

Anyway this is Hammy signing off, see you next time.

XXX