All other stories on hold for this! I have struck gold!
To compensate for the insult of DP's soon cancellation, I am writing this story of what I think would be cool if it continued. RnR, even with flames, I gotta know if this is good.
Disclaimer: If I owned Danny Phantom, you would be stabbing me for canceling it.
Amity Park was no longer a quiet town.
True, it wasn't exactly New York. Aside from being the home of the first Nasty Burger, it was practically in the middle of cultural nowhere. But it had a nice feel to it, not to small, not to big. And it seemed like that was its fate, until the incident reports started.
At first, no one took them seriously. After all, who, with the exception of readers of the Weekly World News, would take a story about a ghost infestation without scoffing? However, after several of these incidents, it became impossible for the world to ignore. You can't just overlook a city vanishing off the face of the earth, then reappearing later.
This drew the attention of the government, who formed groups like the Guys in White to research and combat these threats. In the end, though, it was learned that the town itself was more than it seemed. It was a place of destiny, a place of magic, and a place where the mightiest of heroes rose to battle the ultimate threat.
Observants, what I am about to show you is a tale that must be saved for eons. This is the story of the ancient weapons of the lost kingdom, the Twelve Crests of Atlantis, and the heroes who bore them to victory.
-Clockwork, the Master of Time
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The classroom was in ruins.
Granted, Casper High was getting to a place were this was routine. With the problems recently, the school board was considering doubling insurance and the building just to cover the damage from random ghost attacks. In this case, however, the teacher had practically asked for it. Cardboard boxes were becoming a major problem.
"I am the Box Ghost!" The overweight ghost yelled dramatically. "And now that your learning facility has seen fit to enhance my cardboard arsenal, I will reign supreme!" He them began using his powers to hurl boxes in every direction, creating mayhem and destruction. However, he didn't realize that the mayhem had nothing to do with fear.
"Alright, no more class!" one kid yelled. It seemed that this was a common occurrence. The students gleefully ran from the classroom taking advantage of the Box Ghost's attack to play hooky. However, three students were not pleased.
"Why won't he just give it up?" An African American kid with thick glasses mumbled. "I mean, every week it's the same thing, he shows up, we kick him around, we put him in the thermos, he comes back. Doesn't he ever get discouraged?"
"I don't know, Tucker, maybe he just has a short attention span." Answered a Goth girl. "Anyway, is Danny coming to clean up this mess sometime today?"
"Sam, I don't thing he's going to ignore an attack like this. He's probably just taking his time. I mean, on this guy he can afford to."
At that moment, a bolt of green energy slammed into the Box Ghost, knocking him to the floor. It came from the hand of a white haired boy at the end of the hall with piercing green eyes. It would be hopeless to live in Amity Park and have never seen him. The entire town knew the name of Danny Phantom.
The Box Ghost pulled himself back up. "So, you stand against me again, ghost boy? Well, you will be crushed beneath my cardboard wave of doom!"
Danny just shook his head. "Look, could we skip the banter and get to the part were I kick your butt and stuff it in the thermos?"
The Box Ghost responded by sending a box flying at his head. Danny fazed through it with ease and opened the Fenton Thermos, sucking the cardboard tyrant in.
"I will have my revenge, and my square minions will-" the box ghost tried to say, but before he could finish, the thermos had sucked him in. Danny sighed with relief.
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After school that day, Danny and his friends were walking home. It had been a trying day, though not mainly because of the attack. School was just a stressful thing.
Suddenly, Sam moaned in frustration. "I just forgot I have something to do after school today. My parents want me to go to this lame dinner party with a bunch of their snobby friends. I need to go." She bolted down the street. Tucker raised his eyebrow.
"I don't even think her parents know her." He said. "A Dinner party?"
Danny shook his head. "Yeah…..wait, is her house even in that direction?"
They both shrugged and continued on.
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Sam walked up to the door of an old house. It was a run down wreck and had been abandoned for years, but somehow the city had never gotten around to pulling it down. It had just stayed there indefinitely, growing older and creepier with every passing year. However, its rundown state was useful for people who didn't want to be found. And at the moment, that's exactly what Sam was.
She opened the door, making it creek softly, and walked into the entry room, closing the door behind her. Leaning down to the floor, she pulled up a board, revealing a pile of books, mainly on Wicca.
"My parents are never going to find these ones. She whispered.
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Meanwhile, in Washington…
President Bartlet sat at his desk in the Oval office, considering the best way to say what he was about to say. When he had been elected, he had no idea that he would have to deal with this. But the fact was that the government was paying for an organization that wasn't working, and that had to be dealt with.
Two men in white suits entered the room. They looked every bit the secret organization members. However, their organization was far from secret, and that was partially why they were in trouble. The President began to speak.
"At my last press conference, I was expecting to talk about terrorism, welfare, and maybe gay marriage. I was fully prepared for that. However, most of the questions where in a different vane. Do you know what that was?" he asked.
The two men stayed silent with guilt.
"I was mostly asked, 'why are tax dollars funding a ghost hunting division that can't catch ghosts!'" He practically yelled.
One of the two men began to speak. "Mr. President, we are working out our internal problems and should be ready to get back on the field soon."
Bartlet sighed. "I wish I could believe you," he said "but I'll have a hard time winning re-election if I don't do something. However, instead of disbanding you, I will simply put the Guys in White under new management. Say hello to your new director."
At that moment, a man walked through the door. He wore a long trench coat, like the kind that you would see in detective movies, and a hat, both of which were a grayish black color. But the really defining thing about him was his face. It was covered by what looks like a World War One gasmask. Needless to say, he unsettled the two men.
"Does he have a name?" One asked.
"That's classified." The man answered on autopilot. "You will refer to me as Charade." His voice was strange, like it was going through a scrambler. He turned to the President.
"Mr. President, as my first act as Director of Paranormal Investigation, I would like to conduct a solo investigation of Amity Park."
"Are you sure that's safe?" Bartlet asked.
"It is necessary." He replied. "Unlike the Guy's in White's clumsy tactic of open investigation, I mean to see for myself how thing are."
"Permission granted." Bartlet said.
"Thank you, Mr. President." Charade replied.
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A lone figure stood at the city limits of Amity Park, looking at the city.
"Amity Park." He mumbled in a light cockney accent. "The center of paranormal activity in America. That's the last place those filthy blighters will look."
Well, that's the first chapter. Tell me what you think, please.