Secret spy guy: I'm sorry this is so short. I've been really busy, and I've been drawing a lot more lately. If you want, go to my profile and check the link for my Devieant art account. :D
Discalimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or butch hartman, or george lucas...even though that has nothing to do with anything
Green played across the metal walls, casting strange shadows on its surface. Daniel stared at the room in wonder, his eyes traveling over the various inventions and instruments that decorated the place. Vlad's hand gently guided him along, stopping before a metal chair, like one you would see at the dentist.
"Take a seat, Little Badger." The man cooed, beckoning his son with his hand. Daniel hesitated a moment, looking at his father in fear.
"What are you going to do?" He asked.
"Just a blood sample. Now get up." The man replied, firmer this time.
The boy nodded, climbing onto the chair's hard surface. His fingers tapped anxiously on the armrests as he nervously eyed a pair of handcuffs attached to them.
"Don't worry." Vlad smiled, walking over to a table. He took a pair of rubber gloves, forcing them onto his hands. Next was a syringe from a clean white box. Daniel felt his stomach turn as he saw the long needle. He wasn't looking forward to having that thing in his arm.
The man soon returned, a surgical mask covering his mouth and nose.
"This won't hurt a bit." Vlad said, wiping an area on the boy's arm with a cotton ball. Daniel closed his eyes tight, not wanting to see that needle.
He had to be strong. Had to be strong.
A strange sensation passed through him…a familiar feeling of lightheadedness…
She was there…
The boy opened his eyes, quickly regretting it as he saw a mixture of red and green blood pool into the holder of the syringe.
"There, Daniel." Vlad smiled, setting the needle aside and taking a thick bandage from his pocket. "I am one step closer to finding the cure. You can run along. Just don't lift anything heavy with that arm."
Daniel nodded, getting to his feet. He instantly regretted it, reaching a hand up to his head.
"Not another one I trust?" Vlad demanded.
"I just got up too fast…" Daniel whispered, shaking his head to clear it. "I'm fine father."
The man smiled warmly.
"Well then, I suppose it's alright. Maybe you can have an apple at dinner for being so good."
"Thank you sir." Daniel grinned, bowing his head before walking slowly up the steps. Then he stopped, and looked back to the man.
"Father?" He asked. Vlad turned to him.
"What, Little Badger?" He asked, taking the syringe in his hands.
"Is my blood like that…green and red…because I'm half ghost?"
"Yes." Vlad nodded. "Mine is just the same. The ectoplasm in our systems is the only thing keeping us alive. When the blast half killed us, half of everything inside us was killed as well, and the ghostly equivalent took over. That is why, Little Badger."
"Alright." Daniel nodded. "Thank you father."
Once the boy was gone, Vlad's eyes turned to the syringe in his hand.
"No. Thank you Little Badger." He sneered, squirting a few drops onto a petry dish.
Dreams were so easy to dispose of.
Daniel sat on his bed, staring as the skin the needle had punctured slowly turned a sickening yellow.
A thousand thoughts were running through his mind. He had seen two "dreams" in the lab. The first had Sam falling off the tracks over some body of water. She had screamed for him…but he hadn't saved her.
Then it had ended.
She had to be dead.
Danny cringed as he thought of the second dream. A girl with bright orange hair, clad in some type of armor, standing in an arena ready to fire at him…
"Jazz! No! Don't! Please!" His voice cried as she towered over him…
Had she hurt him?
Why?
A thousand questions ran through his brain. Questions he couldn't answer. Things that he couldn't see.
And he wanted to know…
Dinner was silent as usual. Daniel sat on his side of the long table, quietly eating his oatmeal in placid surrender. He tried hard to ignore the good smells coming from Vlad's meal. It was some sort of chicken, prepared quite well.
But he knew he wasn't going to get any. Better to eat well in his silence than to starve in his sorrow.
"So Daniel." Vlad said, setting his fork down. "How is your arm doing?"
"Quite well father." The boy replied. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
"That's good." The man smiled, taking another bite of chicken.
It looked so tasty.
"Do I still get an apple?" Daniel prodded.
"I suppose it will be a treat tonight." His father replied, motioning to the elderly maid. She nodded, bowing slightly and leaving the room. When she returned, she had a shining red apple held in her hands. Her gaze traveled over the boy's face as he smiled, gently taking it from her. He was so skinny and pale. The other servants said that his ribs poked through his skin.
Why did Vlad want to keep him like this? He was going to get even sicker.
She had to help him.
Daniel thanked the old woman, nodding politely before biting into the red fruit. It was sweet and juicy. He had to be careful not to let any drip down his chin. He knew his father would become angry at his sloppiness.
All the while Vlad watched. He kept himself from laughing at the boy. How he treated an apple like it was the sweetest of treats.
He was right where he wanted him.