The Marionette's Heart
There is no magic strong enough in the world to appease a greedy soul. Or undo a fatal error. Vlad employs Desiree's help in capturing Danny's love and loyalty and drives the son he always wanted over the edge, and gets a monster instead.
~(*o0o*)~
He'd heard the rumors circulating around the Ghost Zone, and had immediately dispatched all of his resources into scouring the living and spirit worlds for the treasure. The Fright Knight and the Night Mare rode into the deepest depths of the Ghost Zone, and even the klutzy, unreliable vultures were peering under every rock they could find (as well as getting horribly lost in the process). Vlad spent hours online searching for the strange artifact, dispatching teams in his company to track the item down.
It took several months, but at last, he had located the rusty, sorry-looking object in a bazaar somewhere in the Middle East. The booth keeper, who thought he was only selling old junk, was more than happy to accept the price Vlad had offered for the lamp, completely oblivious to its true value. Vlad had smiled blithely like any other naïve tourist when the seller handed the lamp over to him in a plastic bag, though his eyes had flashed red underneath his sunglasses with ravenous glee.
The lamp was kept on his person at all times when he traveled back through the dingy village of Rii'zhan to his private jet, clutched constantly in his sweaty hands. However, he refrained from rubbing the grime away from its old surface at any cost. That would have to wait.
Vlad Masters flew with the lamp back to America, poring over his lists again and again. The old stories had taught him just how badly poorly-phrased wishes could go wrong, and he needed to be absolutely certain that the slave of the lamp would not, could not trick him. He'd heard rumors of the seductive ghost's beauty, and they did not charm her to him a whit.
He didn't have to spend much time thinking what he'd wish for, however. The three wishes had materialized in his mind as soon as he'd heard that Desiree the Genie Spirit had been sealed away in her prison by the wary spirits as punishment for causing unspeakable calamity across the world. According to Fright Knight, Desiree now bore a large number over her heart, forced to grant 1,001 wishes
At last, once he'd arrived back home in his manor in Wisconsin, he
"Of course you do," sighed Desiree, running a hand though her voluminous hair and admiring her reflection in a nearby mirror. "Well, master, do tell me what it is. Wealth?" she asked wearily, peering curiously at the finery all around her. "Seems like you have rather a lot of that already…."
Vlad scoffed at her from across his desk.
"Certainly not.
His eyes glowed with the promise of death. "There's a man I know by the name of Jack Fenton. I wish for you to-"
"Slaughter him by the shambles?" she asked, a smirk curling her violet lips. "Oh, you're no fun at all, master. I'd hoped that a man crazy enough to chase me across the world for my services would be a little more interesting. But you're just like any other desperate, greedy human, aren't you? You're boring."
Vlad shot her a poisonous glare.
"Just do it. Kill him. Heart attack, accident, suicide-"
"I cannot," said the ghost calmly, pulling a brush seemingly out of nowhere and running the bristles through her dark locks. "The death of a human being is not something I can do."
For a moment, Vlad just stared at her, stunned. Then, as the full implication of her words washed over him, he flew into a terrible, boiling fury.
"What?" he asked softly, though his fists were trembling with rage. Desiree touched up her makeup, opting not to look at him. "Are you saying you're worthless, ghost?"
Offended, Desiree sent him a nasty glance and made her cosmetics disappear with a small poof! of dust. She put her hands on her hips, bangles clanking noisily against one another.
"Well, I can turn your manor into gold, your water into silver, and your very blood into rubies," she said warningly, red eyes flashing as she glided towards him. "I certainly wouldn't call myself powerless."
Vlad just wildly shook his head, letting out a pained roar before knocking all the papers and pen holders off his desk, successfully shattering a vase.
"I don't need more wealth-you are useless, useless to me! I want Madeline's love, or at least my enemy's demise!"
"Rules are rules," said Desiree, biting the inside of her mouth to keep herself from smirking as Vlad stormed like a small child. "I cannot stop a heart, nor can I can create love to exist in one. Love cannot be manufactured, master. That would call for the creation of a puppet heart."
Vlad had turned his leather chair away from her, red face buried in his hands. Now, Desiree's words caught his attention. Still angry, but now curious, he turned around.
"What?" he barked warily. "What do you mean?"
Desiree bit her lip, looking pained. It was obvious that she regretted saying anything at all.
"I…I meant nothing by it."
"Tell me!" Vlad demanded in a booming voice. "What the plum tart did you-"
The female threw up her hands, looking weary, as if she had made this speech many times before.
"As I've said, I cannot create love in a heart using magical means-romantic or otherwise. I have tried again and again, but it is against the rules subjected to control a genie's power, which are wise," she admitted grudgingly. "Love is one of the most destructive forces on the planet, master. I am unable to forge genuine bonds between hearts-the ones linked by earnest, mutual affection-but I can recreate feelings somewhat similar to love," she said tiredly, shutting her eyes before she saw Vlad's eyes gleam. Too late. "I can create what is known as a puppet heart, and attach it to someone's true heart. This fake heart can inspire feelings to the true heart, which is often bewildered and uncertain with its new invader.
"Some true hearts reject the fake heart almost immediately; they recognize these implants as false. Artificial. It depends on the intensity of the fake heart and the ability of the true heart. Other true hearts are much easier to fool; they assume that the fake heart is but a mere extension of the true heart, left undiscovered and unexplored for years. If the fake heart and the true heart are compatible with each other-if the fake heart merely plants a suggestion in the true heart that it is happy to obey, than the two hearts often melt into one another, creating a misshapen new heart. Other times, the true heart may be completely overwhelmed by the size of the puppet heart, and be completely eclipsed. Thus, the true heart is now the puppet of the fake heart."
Vlad stared at her for a moment, and then slowly leaned back in his chair. He sighed, shoulders slumping, eyes closing. Desiree opened her own, and looked anxious.
"If you truly love this woman, you will not subject her heart to such things," she said softly, drifting to the irate man. "I can use my magic to prompt this woman to be attracted to you, but it certainly wouldn't be real. She would be repulsed by herself, living each and every day consumed in pain and doubt. If you really wanted her to be by her side, I could bind her heart so that she would have no other choice but to be submerged by the fake heart, but it would be excruciatingly agonizing for her. She'd be a slave in all but name and loathe herself. It would be incredibly traumatic."
"….I don't want to hurt her," Vlad muttered out grimly, feeling very old and wretched at this point. Desiree's words had inspired hope in him, but it had been dashed away once again. He wanted Madeline's true love, in spite of his greed to have her. Tired, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, and withdrew a fine glass bottle filled with an amber-covered liquid and a glass. He poured himself a generous amount, and took a sip, thinking carefully.
"You speak of bindings," murmured Vlad, wiping the cognac away from his lips with a napkin. He frowned slightly as he leaned forward, the tips of his fingers touching, eyes narrowed.
"Would it physically hurt the person, to have an additional heart?" he asked.
"Oh, not literally," said Desiree dismissively. "I meant their figurative heart, with which they feel. But it could cause some physical trauma, yes. I have seen people before so defeated by the dominating nature of a false heart that they become very ill-many commit suicide just to escape the guilt and pain."
Vlad stood up, and began to slowly pace in front of his window, looking troubled. Desiree watched him for a moment.
"I have seen it many times," offered Desiree hopefully. "People try to bind the object of their beloved to them using a wish, but most return to me, beseeching me to destroy the threads I have created. The people they love are but shadows of themselves, unable to express themselves in ways that would contradict the commands of the puppet heart. Wish for a glass of water, or food for a starving village. That certainly hasn't been wished for before."
Vlad ignored her. For many minutes the man paced, before he abruptly stopped dead in his tracks, and whirled around to face Desiree, face set.
"Daniel," Vlad making Desiree cringe. "You will construct a puppet heart for Daniel."
"You really wish me to do this?" she asked quietly, her red eyes smoldering in distaste. Vlad snorted in disdain.
"But of course. It was your suggestion, after all."
Desiree's nails dug into her palms, but the ghost said nothing for a moment. Then, as casually as if she were a waitress taking an order, she asked dryly:
"So, what will the specifics be? Do you want a puppet heart that will make him look upon you with more sympathy? Perhaps make him doubt the ties he has with his loved ones? Make him your groveling, pitiful servant?"
Vlad thought for a moment, a smirk uncurling on his face.
"Tempting….but I'll skip the latter. I don't want him to throw himself immediately. I want him to feel conflict. I want his true heart to be doubting itself every second. I want him to suffer."
He crossed his legs and leaned back, hands crossed neatly in his lap. Before he could stop himself, he went on:
"I want Daniel to think of me often; to feel some sympathy for my plight. I want him to be concerned about me; to note all my higher qualities and be able to ignore what negatives he might think of me. I want him to worry about me, to care about me."
"Sounds like you just want his pity," commented Desiree. Vlad went on:
"I do not just want that! I want just enough reality to sink into that boy's head to make him realize what he truly is: Half-dead, and all alone in the world. He had friends to help him when he became what he was; I did not! I want him to feel my loneliness, my pain. I want him to feel obliged to seek me out—I want him to feel no peace in his heart until he does! But he will remember his bonds to his family, and he will suffer greatly for defying me!"
Desiree tried to open her mouth, but Vlad was on a roll:
"Ultimately, help Daniel want me as a father, as his friend. Make his heart more susceptible to my interests, so that we'll actually have something worth talking about! Make him feel calm in my presence—with a heightened sense of wellbeing."
An unexpected lump grew in his throat, and Vlad stopped speaking, surprised. Gulping some spirits, he tried to force away the strange burning and firmly continued: "Make him want to be near me. Make him wonder if he can learn something from me. Make the boy feel incomplete without my presence."
Desiree's red eyes cast the man a sad, pitying look.
"So specific. So desperate and needy. But I will do as you ask."
Desiree's hands began to twinkle and sparkle with power. She slowly raised them to the ceiling, and for a moment, Vlad's vision was lost in a blinding flash of light. When his vision again became normal, he saw the number on Desiree's chest had been changed from 1,001 to 1,000. Desiree lowered her hands.
"It is done," she said quietly, drifting over to the window. "All that you have asked. Find me if you change your mind," the genie added, disappearing through the wall. "Which you will, I assure you. I hope you're good at pleading."
~(*o0o*)~
For days, Vlad heard nothing. After some time, he considered that the ghost might have been tricking him, and he descended into a bitterness unlike any he had ever felt before, including the time he'd received Jack and Maddie's wedding invitation in the mail. The billionaire had planted a bug on the teen in the hopes that he'd see some results, but outwardly, Danny didn't look much different at all. He still cracked jokes with his friends, still fought ghosts, still enjoyed playing games. If indeed Desiree had planted a heart, it had changed nothing, or Danny's heart had overpowered the other. Considering the strength of the annoying halfa, Vlad sank into despair.
No; the only difference he could see was that Danny's grades began to slip. But the boy was simply getting careless or lazy—that was no surprise to Vlad. The boy looked more spacey, seemed a tad bit more absentminded, spent more of his time brooding in silence when he was alone in his room. Now and again the slightest hint of sadness would fall over his features, but Vlad dismissed these spells as typical for the average adolescent.
Until the phone call came, that was. One night, he'd been trying to enjoy a solitary game of chess with a glass of wine when his telephone had begun to ring. Irritated and figuring that it was simply one of his executives, Vlad picked it up, only to spit out wine when he'd taken a look at the Caller ID. The Fentons.
Could it be….?
Hammering in his throat, Vlad raised it to his ear, only to quickly draw it back when he heard the love of his life crying out.
"Vlad!"
Astonished, Vlad's unfeeling fingertips slipped away from his wineglass, and the object shattered on the floor. The man was too startled to notice, however. What was Maddie doing, calling him….?
"Vlad, I know it's late, and things are still kind of weird between us, but something's wrong. This is going to take some explaining, but I hope you can fill in the blanks."
Madeline's voice rose like an angry cat's. "Did you say or do something to my son? Please tell me. I'm begging you."
What was she talking about….? Vlad swallowed.
"I said nothing to him," he said honestly, confusion and curiosity coloring his voice. "Maddie, what….did the little badger use my name? What's happening?"
"I'll explain that later," Maddie replied, her voice sounding tearful, much to Vlad's dissatisfaction.
"Danny just-oh, I don't know what happened-we were having a perfectly nice family game night, like the ones we used to have before Danny and Jazz got so busy all the time, and out of nowhere, Danny freaks out and knocks the table over! Then, he started screaming and crying and wouldn't let us touch him-Vlad, I'm scared. I'm really scared. Out of nowhere, he starts hollering at Jack for your…your accident several years ago."
Vlad bit the inside of his mouth so tightly he tasted blood. Accident?
"Then he started apologizing and beating his head against the wall, crying. He ran out of the house before long and neither Jack and I can find him! Vlad, tell me he's with you! Jasmine ran to you when she was p-particularly upset a-and I just don't know w-what t-to do anymore-"
Vlad slowly stood up, amazed.
"When did the little badger disappear?"
"A few hours ago. Maybe twelve. The police haven't been helpful at all. Please, has he called you or come to see you?"
Vlad opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud and frantic BANG, BANG, BANG, on his front door. Annoyed, Vlad ventured over to the window and drew aside the drapes to see who it was. How had they gotten past the front gate?
His mouth dropped, and the phone slipped from his fingers, falling to land with the broken wineglass and the spilled liquid. Faintly, he could hear a soft buzzing from the phone, as if Madeline were calling his name, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
Except for the fact that Danny Phantom was wildly pounding at his front door, looking desperate. His normally confident and buoyant green eyes were hollows in his thin face; there were shadows lining them too—he hadn't slept. The teen didn't seem to notice that Vlad was watching him, looking every moment like he might fall to pieces.
"Vlad? Vlaaad? I asked you, have you seen Danny?"
Vlad ignored her for a moment. He turned his attention to his chessboard, took hold of the white king piece, and casually strutted it across the board, to where the black king and his army lay. The pawns fell before it, and the king went tumbling with the slightest tap from the white king.
A triumphant cackling filled the room.
"Game, set, checkmate, little badger."
Still smiling hideously, the man left the room, assuming a very concerned and innocent expression as he did so.
