Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.
Author's Notes: This is a one-shot respose to Hottiegally's challenge: "A mysterious villain/stranger spys on Danny for oh-how-long, and demands to kidnap Danny with the intent he may become his/her apprentice, for good/bad reasons." Well, that's the challenge in my own words, anyway.
09/19/10: Due to the recent death of Hottiegally, I am continuing this story in her memory. This is part one of three.
The Stranger
Response to Hottiegally's Challenge
Apprentice, Part I
Danny scarcely noticed the man clad entirely in black, nor did anyone else, for that matter. Anyone who noticed him would gaze past him as if he wasn't entirely there, or as if he was something so extraordinarily mundane that he wasn't worth looking at. He was nothing more than a shadow, a dark, fleeting glimpse in one's perspective – no one gave him even so much as a glance. The odd man preferred it this way; in fact, he made it so.
Yet, had one started at this person, they would have noticed that he kept his face covered almost entirely. They would have noticed his unfeasibly white skin. They would have noticed how impossibly emaciated the man appeared – he was practically a walking skeleton –, and they would have marveled at his impressive height. He remained unnoticeable to all, even if he was rather bizarre.
Danny had seen the stranger once or twice, but thought nothing of him. There were more important things to worry about than minding someone else's business. Seeing the stranger once or twice didn't qualify as being stalked, in Danny's mind. It was only coincidence. There was no issue.
Unfortunately, Danny wasn't entirely aware of how long the man had been watching him, or of how frequently. He did not know that the man practically shadowed his footsteps, observing each move the ghost-boy made with some then-unknown intent. He was entirely ignorant of the fact that the stranger had been present at each and every ghost fight, studying Danny meticulously.
He catches specters with ease, with a certain finesse. He is familiar with the spirtual realms, no doubt, and he has experience dealing with the inhabitants. He has a sense of obligation, which is good. . . His potential is immense, the stranger thought, and should not be wasted. It should be put to use, and then, when his time is up – when his duty is fulfilled, just as mine is –, he shall have his reward.
One night, at precisely midnight, Danny awoke from his sleep to the icy feel of a blade upon his neck. It was a cruel blade, a scythe's blade, which was boasted by a cloaked figure. The figure's face was covered almost entirely, but Danny could see a skeleton's hands gripping the twisted wood of the instrument.
"Hello, Danny," the stranger spoke at last. "I am Death. You are my apprentice."
Author's Notes: I initally wanted to title this "Don't Fear the Reaper" - that song was stuck in my head as I was writing this, due to the fact that I decided to write about the Reaper -, but I thought it gave away too much.