I dodged the ectoblast to the left before running at Skulker. He slashed at me with a single glowing green blade that had extended from his suit, but I was able to duck while sweeping out with my legs, catching him off guard and sending him tumbling to the ground. I came up to where he was lying, preparing a witty comeback, when his missile launcher extended and fired, sending a dozen rockets my way. Instinctively, I threw up a shield, but the force pressed me into a wall anyway. I slumped to the ground and Skulker took this time to stand up, while I prepared my next ecto-attack, letting the energy build up in my hands. I fired it, and Skulker crashed into a building. Confident he was weak enough, I grabbed the thermos and sucked him in. The usual banter was exchanged, and he yelled something along the lines of "I'll get your head next time, Ghost Boy!" before I capped the capture device and let out a deep breath.
I clipped the thermos onto my belt and leaned against the wall, pressing my hand to my side and testing for broken ribs. Three, I predicted. I groaned, feeling the familiar ache of my super-fast healing process kicking in, but knew I would be sore in the morning. After catching my breath, I took to the air, ready for some much needed sleep.
The dark night unfolded over my head, a cool blanket rustling through my hair. It was about ten, and I knew I still had at least an three hours of homework left to do, factoring in at least two to three ghost attacks. I figured I would probably fall asleep halfway through my homework, meaning I wouldn't finish my English. Just thinking about the expression on Lancer's face when I didn't hand it in tomorrow stirred guilt and embarrassment in my heart. Contrary to his apparent belief, I didn't enjoy failing his class.
I was deep in thought, soaring over my city, when I felt a searing pain hit my stomach. I yelled in surprise and pain, losing my flight and spiraling toward the ground. I crashed into The Amity Park, the grass cushioning my fall. Managing to roll onto my back, I groaned and pulled myself up, rubbing my stomach. Sore, hopefully not too badly burned.
I scanned the area, my green eyes flaring as I attempted to locate the threat. I couldn't see anyone, my attacker remaining anonymous. I managed to get to my feet and, leaning against a tree, take a breather.
It was then that a heard the rumbling.
The noise started out quiet, like a distant highway, but built and grew into the roar of an overhead waterfall. Until finally, to my absolute horror, the Fenton Family Assault Vehicle roared into view, and, by the driving, my dad was in command of the wheel.
I panicked, and tried to fly, turn invisible, intangible, anything, but I was trapped. For some reason, my ghost powers weren't responding. I wracked my brain, trying to remember the newest invention dad had been yelling about when I had gotten home, but everything was just a blur.
I heard the door slam as mom exited the RV. A thump followed as my dad fell out, his bulk slamming into the ground. In any other case I would have laughed, but at the moment I was too busy running for my life, or afterlife, at the moment.
I tore through the park, running into the more heavily forested area. I could hear my mother behind me, gracefully dodging trees and leaping over bushes. Dad just kind of blundered through behind her, ripping through the brush. I could hear their footsteps echo through the growth, insults and ectoblasts hurtling at me.
I never saw the root. It was a big twisted and gnarled thing, a smooth patch worn into it where other people had grazed it with hiking boots and sneakers. The dirt from underneath it had been cleared away, leaving a small space, most likely by those before me who had fallen prey to the sudden tuber. It was this space that grabbed onto my boot. That twisted my ankle. That caused me to fall straight on my face. That let my mom catch up to me, stand over me with a ecto-gun pointed at my head, my father huffing next to her, hands pressed to his knees in an attempt to draw breath. I rolled onto my back.
"Don't move, you ectoplasmic scum." My mom's voice was even and steady, and the reflection of my luminous green eyes glinted off her goggles. My breaths were deep and ragged, the deep pain in my chest flaring with each intake. She stared me down, the world around us still for just a moment. The hunter stared down at the hunted as it quaked in fear. Almost poetic.
"We've…" -breath- "…Got you…" –breath- "…Now…" –breath- "…Ghost Boy!" Dad hoisted the Fenton Bazooka over his shoulder as he finally caught the breath that had been so desperately racing away from him.
"Please." Was all I managed to say. It was slightly pathetic, but the only thing I was able to utter as my side cut into my vocabulary, and I grasped it, gasping in pain. I saw the ghost of her eyes behind the glass glance down at my side, seeing the ripped suit and bruised skin, I'm sure. But that didn't differ her drive.
"We are going to take you back to the lab." She mono-toned. "We are going to lock you up. You will never escape. You will never be free to terrorize our town again. We will run tests on you. You will cooperate. If you do not, then we will have to make sure you do."
"Please…" I whispered again. It was all I could do to keep myself Phantom. I quickly weighed my options. One; I turn into Danny, and face the possibility that my parents will take me in for experimentation anyway. Worst case scenario they try and get rid of my ghost half. Two; they capture me. Jazz will notice I'm gone tomorrow morning, and come looking for me. She knows to check in the lab. Worst case scenario, I get ripped apart molecule by molecule or dissected, dead for good.
I had to choose between the possibilities of either losing my life, or my ghost powers. It was an easy choice.
I felt the net dig into my skin as my mom shot it at me, wrapping my already sore body, and causing me to cry out in pain.
"Jack." My mom said, keeping her face straight. Dad was a different story.
"Yes, dear!" He yelled enthusiastically, the toothy grin on his face practically splitting it in two. I weigh practically nothing in ghost form, and he hefted the net over his shoulder with no problem. "I, Jack Fenton!, have finally caught the ghost boy, Inviso-bill!" He proclaimed loudly, and a startled owl took off from a nearby branch.
Apparently, my broken body had no effect on my wit, for I was able to spit back, "It's Phantom. You would know that if you had ever stopped to talk to me before shooting at me."
Dad's eyebrows pulled down over his eyes, confusion filling his face. "But the news said your name is Inviso-bill."
I scoffed. "Uh, no. Who would have a lame name like that?"
Dad shook his head. At that moment, Mom appeared from the forest in front of us. "Jack," she snapped, and his head whipped from me to her. "No talking to the ghost."
The rest of our journey was in silence, although I had to say I was impressed with how far I was able to get, injured, and on foot, before they caught up with me earlier. It was a good twenty minutes until we managed to get back to the RV. Mom opened the back and Dad threw me in, not bothering to be gentle, and ignoring my cries. I ended up mostly curled in a ball, with my foot stuck under my leg, and my arm twisted uncomfortably over my head.
The motor roared to life, and we were soon off, towards my house and soon-to-be prison. I attempted for a second time to phase through the ropes, but either that shot did something to me, or I was just plain tired. I could hear my parents whispering up in the front, but their voices were an inaudible murmur. About ten minutes into the ride, I actually caught myself dozing off, but was able to snap myself out of it just as the blue rings appeared around my torso. If my parents did decide to dissect me, I could always turn human, last resort.
The huge clamoring vehicle finally ground to a halt, the neon light shining through the glass and onto my face, mocking me with its freedom. The back of the car jerked open, and before I knew it, Mom appeared over me, and shoved a long needle into my arm.
Now, if you've never had a large needle jammed into your arm unexpectedly, I don't recommend it. I could feel the cold metal slide into my flesh, and gasped. The plunger shot down, forcing the foreign liquid into my arm before pulling out, violently. A smear of green welled up on my arm, a single dot.
"What the hell was that?" I shouted.
"Just a slight sedative." Dad informed me. "It should keep you calm, and stop you from using your abilities." Mom glared at him.
Worry welled up in my stomach, but I pushed it down. "It's not like I could use them anyway." I grumbled. Wait, a sedative that blocks ghost powers? I cautiously reached for that warmth inside me, checking, not activating.
Gone.
Dammit, I cursed. Well, there goes plan B. My field of options was slowly getting narrower and narrower. My dad once again grabbed the net and hauled me into the house. As we walked through the house, I swept my eyes from side to side, attempting to find Jazz. Of course she would be in her room studying. Dad couldn't keep his accomplishments secret for long, thankfully. In a few minutes he would be running into her room proclaiming, 'Jazzy-pants! Guess what? Your mother and I have finally caught the ghost boy! Come downstairs and watch while we rip him apart, molecule by molecule!'. Jazz, horrified, would call Sam or Tucker, then come flying down the stairs and distract Mom and Dad until one of my friends came by to save me.
I was imagining the lecture Sam would give me when we reached the lab. Dad set the net down in a corner, and Mom activated the ghost shield with the click of a remote. The net around me disappeared with another push of a button. I tumbled onto the floor slightly, groaning. I managed to pull myself into a sitting position and did an injury check.
Slight scratches on my forehead and cheeks from running through the forest, not healing anytime soon with my powers blocked. My shoulders were sore, especially the arm that had been twisted behind me, the one that had received the shot. Ribs were still broken, thanks Skulker. I stopped when I got to my side, taking a deep breath before examine my worst injury.
The blast from my parent's gun had scraped away the top layer of skin, leaving the remaining bleeding ectoplasm slightly. The surrounding site was bright green, slightly blistered from the anti-ecto shot. Thankfully, I wasn't in danger of bleeding out, but it hurt like a mother.
I looked up to see both my parents studying me, two scientists observing an experiment. We stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before I raised an eyebrow and said "What?"
Dad, looking slightly embarrassed, turned back to whatever he was doing. Mom, on the other hand, continued to gaze at me before grabbing a clipboard and scribbling something down. Great, they were taking notes on me now.
Suddenly, Dad's head shot up. "Mads!" he practically yelled. "We forgot to tell Jazz! She'd want to see this!" I allowed a small grin to creep onto my face, all of the tension knotting up my stomach released in relief.
Mom shook her head. "No sweetie, remember? Jazz is at that late-night study session at the library." Who the fuck has a study session at the library at ten 'o' clock at night? I felt crushed, as if a thousand pound boulder had suddenly dropped onto my chest.
Hopelessness, a feeling I had rarely felt, threatened to overwhelm me. Look on the bright side, look on the bright side, think positive, there's always a way out. The mantra repeated in my head. Jazz would come home, what, in a half an hour? Dad would tell her, and she would come rescue me. Or Sam would come over looking for me. I had texted her I had go after Skulker, hadn't I? She would expect a message back, then when she didn't get one, would come over looking for me. If I had texted her.
A voice broke my thoughts. "Alright Mads, we're ready to go!" Dad thundered. I slowly brought up to gaze at the examination table in horror.
"Jack, could you grab the ghost for me, please?" Dad lumbered over to the ghost shield while Mom double checked the ghost-proof restraints.
Dad scooped me into his arms, and I tried to struggle, but was surprisingly sluggish. God damn sedative. My brain worked fine, of course, it was my body that was affected.
"The sedative is working well." Mom commented, scribbling more down on her clipboard. Dad laid me out on the table, securing my wrists and ankles. I noted that he left what appeared to be a head restraint where it was.
Even though it was slower than usual, I managed to speak. "Kinky." I said, and Dad laughed. Mom just seemed to roll her eyes, although hard to tell through goggles.
"We're going to start with the physical examination." She said, handing the clipboard to Dad. A large pair of scissors appeared in her hand, and my heart rate picked up. I flinched as dread as she lowered them to my chest, preparing to slice me open…
Alright, so, I started a new story. I haven't actually liked anything I've been writing recently, but I'm surprisingly proud of this one. I'm already working of the second chapter, but I am infrequent, at best, with my updates. This will not be a super long fic, just a couple chapters or so, but I'm attempting to write longer stuff. I've always had problems with starting an idea and not finishing it, like everything else I've ever wrote. Anyway, hopefully I'll actually be able to finish this one, and it won't end up on hiatus. I've always been jealous of you people who can write a whole bunch, like my brother whose 10,000 words short of a novel on his story. -Shakes fist at him-
Anyway. Review if you want, it may make me write faster. I don't know. I'm tired. Finals.
Later Gator,
NerdyWriterGirl