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Reader Warning for Foul Language and themes appropriate only for teenage audience on up.


Chapter 1

An End to Ordinary


Kira Danielle Blake, that's the name, don't wear it out. Tad cliché, of course, though I generally was a cliché myself. Never a surprise when it came to being me, not until that day, that is. The day everything changed, another goddamn cliché.

I woke up on my back, looking into the stars. Did I fall asleep outside last night? I was known to do that on occasion, falling asleep under the stars. Meg and Ben joined me on occasion. I sat and enjoyed it for a moment, the last time things would ever seem normal. Once my brain finally woke up enough, I remembered falling asleep in my bed. Confused, my eyes slid shut and I sat up with a sigh. Did I get kicked out last night and just not remember? I kneaded my eyes and forehead until I was ready to face reality. Well, I guess what constituted reality. Everything in front of me was wrong. A world made of thick black lines and coloured in like a freaking cartoon. Three dimensional aspects, all an allusion. Where the hell was I?

"Holy shit," I gasped, jumping to my feet and spinning around like a cornered animal. After a moment of standing, my brain was wracked with vertigo like I'd never felt before. It was like being trapped in a cement mixer, and then this strange, burning heat filled my chest. It was like I was burning and freezing at the same time. A flash of white light blinded me. I blinked the spots out of my eyes and focused on the weird green glow tinting my vision. What the hell?

I closed my eyes and shook my head. This couldn't be happening. I was dreaming, obviously. Just have to wake up, wake up, wake up. Calm down, breathing too hard. Open your eyes, it'll be gone, I just know it. Following that advice, I noticed the strand of hair that fell in front of my face. White? Why the hell is it white?

What was wrong with me?

Push back the panic, nothing good comes from panicking. I wandered around the park I had landed in, searching for something to tell me where I was. The answer came in the form of a sign next to some benches. "Amity Park, North Park."

Is the park two sections? Or is Amity Park the town? Well, North Park was written in a larger size, so it was probably the name of the park, but then Amity Park was the town. I didn't know any Amity Parks in Iowa, of course, it didn't look like Iowa either. It sounded familiar though. Where had I heard that name before?

A clanking of metal pulled me out of my thoughts with a start. I found the source of the noise to be an old water fountain, still slightly shiny. Good enough for a reflection. I could check myself for injuries. I didn't feel any, but that could mean there was nerve damage. Getting on one knee, I looked at myself in the metal side plate. I froze. "That's not me, I don't look like that. I can't look like that!"

Staring back at me with a mirrored expression of shock was a girl with snow white hair and glowing green eyes. When I reached out to touch her, I saw my own glowing arm, and some black, rubbery material I was wearing all over my body. With eyes wide and my brain switching to lower functions, I ran. There was nowhere to go, I didn't know a way home, if there was one, but I ran.

By the time I wore myself down to the point of collapsing, I had ran halfway across the town, ending up in a residential district. My lungs felt like they were on fire, but I wasn't short of breath. The air I was taking in was more from panic than exertion. Trying to calm myself down, I finally looked up. I gasped at the sight in front of me.

I had my suspicions after looking in the makeshift mirror. Impossible, crazy, ridiculous suspicions, but seeing the sign in front of me only went to prove it. Fentonworks. The impossible was real. A place with ghosts and heroes and the very real possibility of being half dead. The Danny Phantom TV show. I was in it. And I was just about to meet the title character.

An ice-cold sensation in my lungs took my breath away. It wisped into the air in a blue icy cloud. "Oh no."

"Hey Spooks, isn't it past your curfew?"

I turned around just in time to avoid a streak of green light coming towards me. Looking at the blackened impact zone from my place on the ground, I was shaking with terror. "Wait!" I shouted, putting my hands up. "I don't want to fight. Please just don't shoot me for a sec."

A strange warm yet electric feeling spread through my fingertips. Soon enough, it was burning, and not a second later, it was gone, and Danny Phantom was in a crater. "Not fighting normally involves not shooting me!" he said, raising electric green hands.

"In my defense, you shot first," I snapped automatically, backing down the street and nearly tripping on my own feet.

Narrowing his eyes, he launched himself at me as fast as a car. It felt like a truck. Tingling numbness passed through me as we literally flew through a building. When we made it through the other side, he shoved me forward and let go. A painful shock ripped through my spine as bricks crashed down over top of me.

In my attempt to peel myself away from the building, I realized my muscles had turned to straw. After falling onto my knees, the warmth started spreading through my hands again. Trying to avoid a deeper hole, I tucked them under my arms and held them there, focusing my hardest on trying to cool them out of their glowing state.

"What are you doing?"

Looking up at the ghost boy and trying to suppress my fears, I stuttered out, "I… I can't control it. You've gotta help me. Please."

"You sure you're not one of Plasmius's clones?"

"I don't think so, but are you sure you're not some kind of crazy delusion from too much pepperoni before bed?"

"Fairly certain," he said, landing on the ground. "If you're not one of his, then who are you?"

"Blake, Kira Blake. And you're Danny Fenton."

His eyes widened, but he stuck out a hand none the less. "If you really want help, grab on."

Staring at his hand, I said, "I really don't want to shoot you again, or whatever that was."

"An ectoblast. Trust me." I tried to read his face, but all he was doing was smiling like this was normal. For him, I guess it was. I grabbed his hand and he immediately sored into the air. With a gasp, I clenched onto him hard with my other arm and tried not to look down. He gave me a confused look, but shrugged it off and flew into the backside of what must have been his house. He peeled me off of him and had me sit on the end of his bed while he transformed and pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call some friends, just hold on."

"Sam and Tucker," I muttered, staring at my thumbs as I made them fight each other for a perfect balance of strength.

"How did you… Never mind." He finished dialing on the archaic flip phone and held it up to his ear. Hardly a moment later, he was talking about some strange girl showing up at his house and having a "situation". I heard their every word as though I was the one with the phone in my ear. Sam was worried, Tucker intrigued. Five minutes max, they were on their way. Call ended.

"Daniel 'Phantom' Fenton, half ghost savior of Amity Park, a quiet midwestern city. This can't be freaking real," I muttered, grabbing my head and leaning into a half-fetal position.

"I would ask how you know all that, and why you're so confused, but I'll save that for when my friends are here."

"That flash of light, when you transformed, does that always happen?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"I saw a bright light earlier, after I… showed up. Before everything started to look greenish. That's from my eyes, right?"

"You get used to it eventually. Did you just go ghost for the first time tonight?"

"Go ghost?"

"Yeah, change forms, or… you know," he said awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah this was the first time," I said. "This is nuts."

A silence fell between us for the remainder of the time. He wanted to hold off on questions. I was too terrified to ask any. The door creaked open before I knew it, and a cartoonishly gothic girl and a nerd boy snuck in. I knew who they were, but I wished I didn't. They shared greetings with Danny. He whispered an account of recent events to them, though I could hear it loud and clear. They turned to look at me, Sam looking very suspicious and very much dangerous. Tucker spoke to me first. "So Kira, how did you end up in Amity Park?"

"I… I don't know. I was in my bed and then… this," I said, motioning to myself, myself that wasn't my self.

"What do you mean? Did you die in bed or something?"

"Die?" I squeaked. "I'm not dead. That's… not even a thing. A not-thing. Not-things don't happen."

"But dude, you are a ghost."

"Tucker," Sam snapped, noticing my stress, "I think we should explain some things before you go laying that on her."

"But I'm not dead. I can't be. I've got to be like you," I said, looking at Danny. "That bright flashy thing, that happened to me in the park. I didn't look like this before then."

Danny looked thoughtful. "Is there a cold feeling in your chest?"

"Um… yeah. It's cold and warm at the same time, but what-"

"Try to contain it."

"How?"

"Think of a ball forming around it, thick enough to block out heat or light or coldness."

"Okay," I said with a tremble, focusing on that. A few moments later, a comfortable feeling of warmth passed over me. When I opened my eyes, the green tinting was gone. "Yes!"

"Huh, another half ghost. And this one's actually my age," Tucker said, straightening his shirt.

"Um, what?"

"Tucker!" Sam shouted, shaking her head. "Where did you come from Kira?"

"Someplace with three-D, no ghosts, and oh, where this shit's a cartoon," I answered. With three blank looks, I added, "Iowa."

"…"

"What do you mean this is a cartoon?" Danny finally asked.

"Um, there was this show when I was a kid, on Nickelodeon, I think. They played it nonstop, I swear that place couldn't afford enough shows for 24 hours, but whatever. My… friend used to make me watch it. I was called Danny Phantom, and you were the main character. But that was a long time ago. If this is a dream, well, I don't know why I'd be dreaming it."

"This definitely isn't a dream," he said."

"I'll pinch you if you want."

Sam shot Tucker another glare. "How did you get your power?"

"I really don't know. Like I said, I was at home, completely normal. Next thing I know I'm in North Park with weirdass hair and glowing eyes."

"You're saying you just got… poofed here?" Danny asked.

"For Christ's sake, fairies don't exist here do they? I can't deal with that much in one night."

"Not that we know of," Sam said.

"Ugh, ghosts are bad enough. Any more than that? Not our problem," Danny said. "We're going to have to show you to my parents."

"Why?" I asked.

"I hate to tell you this, but you can't just hide in my closet."

"Wanna bet?"

"What?"

"Every time your dad meets someone, they end up covered in ectoplasmic goo, if I remember right," I said.

"She has a point, Danny," Sam said.

"Fine, I promise if Dad shoots anything at you, I'll take the hit," he sighed.

"Please and thank you," I said, jumping up and looking in a mirror. "I do look interesting, but if we're going to trick your parents into taking me in, we'll need a cover story."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you gonna say? 'Hi Mom, Dad, this is Kira, she's a half ghost from another dimension, and I'm a half ghost too, so can she live with us?'" Sam said.

"My point," I said, pointing a finger at her before ripping up my shirt.

"What are you doing?" Tucker asked.

"Name's Kira Isabelle Blake. My parents died in a ghost attack two years ago. I've been on my own ever since. Everyone forgot I exist because the government wanted to cover it up to make the ghosts sound like less of a problem. Does that sound like a fair story?"

"Yeah, but let me add a few burns for authenticity," Danny said, lighting up his hand and making holes in my shirt.

"Don't forget the hair," Sam said, pulling out a bottle of hair spray and using it to keep my hair messy.

"You guys are nuts," Tucker said.

"How else would she pull of that story?"

"If I'm claiming to be homeless, I've gotta look homeless. Get with the program tech boy," I joked.

"Tuck, that means she's going to need to be dirty, not just roughed up," Danny urged.

"On it," Tucker said, reaching into Sam's spider backpack and pulling out a bag of dirt.

"Why-"

"Alibi," Sam supplied.

"Oh, that makes sense."

"That's all you have to say?" Danny asked.

"Dude, I have ghost powers and I just made up a story about how my parents are dead just to get room and board. I don't think dirt is even worthy of a question anymore."

"You… make a point."