First-off, I should be typing up more of my other story right now, but I've got to get this out of my head (nobody reads Batman stories anyways). And secondly, this is too fun of a story line to pass up.
Okay, so this is a huge change from what I usually write… on paper, that is. For one, it's utterly morbid at the beginning, so I have it rated mature.
This story is about my OC Tara Wilkins. She was originally going to be a halfa, but it was obviously too cliché. So I adapted my original story from my Quizilla account (urabi91). If you're curious, go ahead and look. Also, let me know if you want me to continue my Quizilla story (revised of course).
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DANNY PHANTOM! DO I LOOK LIKE A TOTALLY HOT 49-yr-old MAN TO YOU? No, I didn't think so.
Ignore the comment about Butch Hartman being totally hot.
And now, without further ado, onto the story!
No, the woman thought as she fled from her attacker. I'm too young to die, I'm only nineteen!
Her gray-blue eyes were wide with fright and her long, dark-red hair streamed behind her a wide silver streak at her hairline that she had since birth. She was taller than most people and her strong, almost Russian facial structure had landed her a job at a modeling agency. While the pay was good, her occupation caused her unwanted attention-like stalkers. Some were harmless but others felt the need to have her. Then there was this guy. At first, we was like the harmless creeps who took pictures all the time, but then it escalated to him wanting to obtain her. Eventually, he kidnapped her, wanting to keep her forever. Fortunately she had escaped his little fortress in the Wisconsin wilderness.
"Come back, Tara! Why won't you love me?" he cried, waving his machete in the air. Oh I don't know, maybe because you're a deranged lunatic? she thought and lengthened her strides, deftly darting through the trees. She looked around frantically for any sign of human activity and, of course, finding none.
The man finally fell behind and was out of sight when Tara came across a clearing. There in the middle of the clearing was an enormous hunting lodge. Without wasting a second, Tara tore across the lawn and made her way to the front doors. She slammed her fist on the dark wood, screaming for someone, anyone to help her. Tara was surprised by an excruciating pain going through the small of her back and out the middle of her chest. She looked down in shock, sound no longer capable of escaping her lips as she eyed the tip of the machete protruding from her torso. Blood poured from her mouth and the wound as she fell onto the door. Wrenching the machete from her dying body, he began to pull her away from the lodge by her ankles.
Suddenly, the massive doors opened and a very irritated man with gray-blue eyes and long silver pulled back into a ponytail poked his head out.
"No free cheese samples!" he roared. His expression then changed from irritated to shocked to horrified as he realized what had just taken place on his front porch. The machete-man dropped his weapon of choice as well as the dying model before he took off back into the woods.
(See? I told you it was morbid.)
Vlad Masters was in his study, stroking his cat, Maddie and thinking of underhanded ways to obtain the love of his life when he heard a loud banging noise emanating from the front of his lodge. His expression soured as he set Maddie down next to him and stood. When he was a mere yard away from the doors, the frantic pounding stopped and was followed by a soft thump.
Oh no, he thought, not another cheese sampler. He wrenched the door open a crack and stuck his head out.
"No free cheese samples!" he roared before attempting to slam the door. He stopped, however, when he noticed just who was at the door, and what they were doing. A man was dragging an abnormally tall woman off the porch by her ankles. She was limp, her face dragging on the concrete and there was blood everywhere. The man had a machete but dropped it, along with the woman, and sprinted off into the woods.
Vlad stood there for a moment, stunned, before looking back down at the woman. Her blood was still pooling around her in an ever-widening puddle. Vlad, despite his suit, kneeled down and rolled her over to check her pulse. He was shocked to find the famous model, Tara Wilkins. He checked her vitals and found her pulse to be weak and fading fast. He quickly picked her up bridal style and ran her to his medical wing. He had to work fast if she was going to survive.
Despite what young Daniel thought, Vlad didn't wish for anyone to actually die, not even Jack Fenton. All he wanted for Jack was social and financial ruin. But enough of that, Vlad need to save this woman. If not for the huge payoff, then for all that is left in him that is good. Unfortunately, little did he know that by the time she had been gently placed on the exam table, Tara had already drawn her last breath.
Another thing, Tara doesn't know who her father is. Her mother paid for coughspermcough and, you know, applied it to herself, thus resulting in Tara. Now, obviously, I dropped a hint as to who the donor is, but you gotta figure it out. I'll reveal it in time. If you guess correctly, I'll tell you. If not, I won't. Simple as that.
Alright, until next time! Please Review! All reviewers will be given cookies!