What if Danny was a murder victim, rather than the victim of an accident that didn't actually end his life?
DISCLAIMER ; I do not own Danny Phantom or any other brands involved in my stories. This is just for fun!
The morning was quiet, void of the usual resonant noises and jubilant atmosphere that often permeated throughout the Fenton household. The family sat at their dinner table, each of the members was self-occupied, appearing to be caught up in an atypical daze.
Jasmine, the teenaged daughter of the Fentons' seemed to be particularly upset that morning, listlessly gazing into the dark colored wood of the table. She rubbed her finger along the smooth surface, smearing the occasional tear across the wood whenever one would fall. She appeared to be locked inside of her mind.
One wouldn't understand the eerie silence and negative emotions until they noticed that something was missing. The vacant chair at the table, cruelly mocking the occupants of the room, the lack of rushed footsteps and creaking stairs as a teenage boy tried to make his way to breakfast in a timely fashion. Other things were amiss as well, like the abandoned room just up the stairway, messy and untouched all at once. There was a missing piece within the family.
It hadn't been long ago, when Danny Fenton went missing. Only about a week had passed since he had last been seen alive.
The news had swept throughout the town quickly and with relative ease, causing an uproar. Parents kept their children on short leashes, forcing them to abide by altered curfews, while authorities warned citizens to stick close to their companions and partners. The town was, to say the least, blanketed in a sense of dismay and unease.
Days after the news had first been broadcasted, the citizens of Amity Park were provided with a spirit breaking piece of development from the case.
The boy's body had been recovered. He had been the victim of a homicide.
A new sort of dread arose over the townspeople. Someone had been murdered in their town, the safest place on earth? It was a difficult blow to swallow for the people... Especially the Fentons - which brings us back to their incredibly dreary morning.
The older Fentons, Maddie and Jack were hardly any better off than their daughter. The only thing keeping them from entirely breaking down was their research, which the couple plunged into headfirst after the news of their son. The parents sat opposite from their daughter, Maddie silently looking over and marking things in a bright green notebook. She was checking and comparing their notes. Jack was tinkering with a small, metallic object, covered in strange blinking lights and emitting soft noises every so often.
And this is how the morning went on.
It had been about a week later when the first 'incident'' occurred. Jazz, still having a dreadful time mourning for her brother, had gotten up during the night - a bit after midnight - to grab something to drink. She walked down the stairs, gripping the rail to guide herself through the darkness. Suddenly, she heard a sound from the kitchen, a clang like a pan being set on the stove. She inhaled sharply and wrapped her hand tighter around the rail, nearly turning her knuckles an ashy shade of white.
She stood stock still for a moment, attempting to steady her breaths. What had that sound been? She knew her parents were still sleeping - she checked.
The sound repeated itself, and she cautiously let go of the rail. Jazz then carefully stepped down the last step, cringing at the creaking noises it made when she put weight on it.
"Hello?" She whispered, almost hoping no one would hear her, "Is- Is anybody in there?"She looked at the door, noticing that it was still locked, closed tightly.
She sighed, feeling silly for asking the question in the first place. Of course nobody was there, how would they have even gotten in?
She released a loud sigh, slumping from her unknowingly tense form. She shuffled the rest of the way to the kitchen, quickly flipping on the light. She blinked harshly and briefly covered her eyes with her hand to stop the spots growing within her field of vision.
After adjusting to the sudden change of lighting,, Jazz fixed her tired gaze on the table. She stared at the scene in a state of muted shock for a moment before she backed up a few steps, tripping over her feet and falling to the floor with a thump.
There, sitting on the table with a smile pasted on his face, was her brother.
