Chapter Four: The Beginning

Danny, dark, shaggy hair still damp from the shower, stood in only his plaid pajama bottoms as he checked his cell phone for any missed calls. He found he had two: one from his parents, hastily informing him of their whereabouts, and the other from Sam.

"Hey, Danny, um. Listen. Sorry about freaking out today at lunch. I know it's not really your fault or anything. Paulina is just…Ugh. I can't even describe her. And okay, well, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I'm really sorry, and I think we should talk about what happened, because it's starting to happen more and more frequently, if you haven't noticed. I mean, there are all these girls chasing after you now and I feel like…Ugh. I feel so stupid. Just call me back, okay? Love you."

Danny sighed and was about to dial his girlfriend's number when a thought struck him. Placing his phone down on the bed, a devious smile spread across his face, blue eyes twinkling. It was only just getting dark, after all, and tomorrow was Saturday…He shouldn't get in too much trouble for what he was about to do. Quickly, Danny pulled on a plain white t-shirt.

He backed up slowly, turned intangible, and then sprinted, taking a flying leap through his bedroom wall and becoming Danny Phantom for the second time that day. Sometimes it feels like I'm Danny Phantom more than I am Fenton, came an unexpected thought from the back of his head. He quickly shook it away, however. He didn't need to be angst-ing over anything when he made up with Sam. But then a different, much more welcome idea struck him, and grinning, he stopped at a shop to buy his girl some of her favorite flowers.

XOXOXO

Sam, fresh out of the shower, stepped into a pair of satin, red pajama shorts and slid a black tank top over her slim shoulders, trying to not think about the incident at lunch, and failing miserably. I hope Danny isn't mad at me seemed to be her catchphrase of the day.

With a disgruntled sigh, she threw herself on her purple canopied bed and buried beneath the fluffy ebony comforters, thinking herself pathetic to be at home, let alone already in bed, on a Friday night. Typically, she would be out with Danny and Tucker (if Danny was home, that is), either scouring the streets of Amity Park for ghosts or at the Nasty Burger complaining about how boring the weekend was turning out to be.

Sam reached out to her nightstand and felt around blindly for her book, Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. Maybe she could lose herself in Melinda Sordino's sad, small little voice. She was so quiet all the time, and so messed up on the inside, and Sam really wanted to know why. She had a good hunch, but-

Suddenly, Sam's hand grasped something that felt nothing at all like her book. No. It felt like…another hand. An ice-cold hand.

Stifling a scream, she wrenched her arm away and turned to find the intruder to be…Danny, in his phantom form. Oh. Sam released a slow, steady breath before sitting up on her knees and whacking her boyfriend, who was currently transforming back into a human, on the shoulder. "Don't do that!" She scolded. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Danny snickered at his girlfriend's expense before breaking into a genuine smile and presenting her with a bouquet of red roses, lilacs, and mauve tulips. They perfumed the air with a sweetness that came from more than just their smell. He got me flowers. Sam thought she might cry.

Danny watched her priceless reaction; she completely froze, and then moved a hand to her mouth, almost in disbelief. Her lavender eyes lit up and they made contact with Danny's own blue ones before she launched herself at him in a gigantic hug.

Simultaneously, the both asked, "So you're not mad at me?"

"No!"

"Of course not!"

"Why would I be mad at you, Sam?" Danny asked, holding her at arm's length. She shrugged awkwardly, responding, "Well, I really did sort of freak out today at lunch. I'm sorry about that. You know I trust you more than that, right?"

"I do. And you know that there is no girl in this universe that I could ever love like I love you, right?"

Sam dropped her gaze and colored slightly. She mumbled, "There are a lot of girls who love Danny Phantom, though."

"You're right," Danny agreed, tightening his hold on her shoulders, "But there's only one girl who truly loves Danny Fenton. And there's only one guy who truly loves Samantha Manson."

She looked up at him, feigning shock. "Oh my God, I never would have guessed! Why didn't Tucker tell me?!"

Danny laughed, and Sam joined in, and he pulled her closer and she snuggled her face into his neck. He was warm, and smelled like soap and…aftershave? Since when did Danny shave?

She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and pulled him down so that he was sitting on the bed next to her. Before he could say anything, she leaned in until her forehead was touching his. She smiled as his breathing sped up; it matched the pace of her heart exactly. His eyes were bright and clear, and with the little flecks of white near his pupils, she thought they really did look like the sky on a perfect summer day. Danny closed the distance slowly, savoring the innocence of the moment. Her breath fanned against him, and for some reason it smelled like strawberry lemonade.

Their mouths met softly, lips brushing against each other, whispering silent promises, and the simple beauty of the kiss erased all of the tension from earlier in the day. He moved closer to Sam and pulled her into his lap, never removing his mouth from hers. Their lips moved together more quickly now, more heatedly.

It was a while later before they surfaced for air, smiling at each other. Sam even giggled.

"Let's go somewhere," he said suddenly, his voice deeper, husky.

Sam rolled off her bed and skipped to her door, quickly turning the lock. Her parents had the annoying tendency to pop in on her in the middle of the night. "Lead the way, Sir Daniel," she said regally, and Danny bowed.

"My princess," he took her hand and scooped her up in his arms. Together, they flew into the night.

The air was stale and stiff with the expected spring humidity, but a glacial breeze, a remnant from the freezing winter, sliced through the air. Sam shivered.

"You want a blanket?" Danny asked, immediately concerned. She wrapped her arms more securely around him and snuggled into his chest. Contented, she smiled up at him. "I'm warmer now."

The sky was painted violet, with yellow flecks smattered across the canvas as if the artist had just flung the paint with wild abandon; the stars glimmered vibrantly. The true work of art, though, was the moon, which hung suspended in the midst of the dark drapery by invisible strings, a stunning centerpiece, pale and luminous, and breathtakingly beautiful.

After she had taken a moment to be awe-struck at the wondrous sight before her, Sam ran a loving hand through Danny's hair and scoffed, "Yeah, right. Being a princess would suck."

"What makes you say that?"

"You remember that princess Dora, who was her brother's prisoner, or something like that? She captured me, and was going to force me to be his bride-" here, she gagged, "-but that's only because he made her. Being a princess equated to being, like, a slave. A slave in a pretty dress. "

Danny flew into a forest and weaved through the thick trees, nodding thoughtfully. "That was only the one princess though. I'm sure it wasn't like that all the time, everywhere."

"I bet it was," Sam disagreed, sighing. "I bet they made the princesses marry men fifty years older than them. I bet it was disgusting. And it's not only that, but not even having a choice in your own fate? To be born without a real destiny, just a prewritten timeline?"

"Since when did you get so deep?" Danny inquired playfully, finally reaching their destination.

Before them, the glassy surface of the Amity Park Lake shimmered under the moonlight. It sat peacefully, gentle waves lapping at their feet. Danny carried Sam over to the dock, where they plunked themselves down, legs dangling over the edge.

"Actually, I think I've always been this way, and you've just matured." Sam grinned back after a moment, "But seriously. What do you think?"

"I think…you're pretty." Danny leaned towards the goth girl, closing his eyes.

Sam pulled back, arms in front of her chest and her eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to look put off. Needless to say, she failed. She laughed softly and encircled his waist with her arms. "Come on, really. What do you think?"

Danny groaned good-naturedly and slung an arm around his girlfriend. "I'm trying really hard to be romantic here, and you're totally not interested."

"I'll be interested as soon as you tell me your opinion. I will be very, very interested." Sam promised.

He chuckled and tilted his head up to stare at the stars, considering his response. "You're right," he said at last, "But isn't that what fate is? I thought you weren't supposed to get a choice?"

"Well…no," she disagreed, "For instance, when I was born, I was fated to be a perfect, mannerly daughter. To wear girly dresses and use my money for popularity and to look down on anyone of a lower social class than me. But I had a choice, and I chose not to be that girl-"

"Thank God," interjected Danny.

"-and we always have choices. But with Dora, with any princess, they felt they had no choice. They couldn't decide their own fate. Because, ultimately, our destiny is what we make of it."

Danny rubbed his head. "You're confusing me."

"I'm sort of confusing myself, too." She admitted.

Numerous fireflies flew over the lake aimlessly, buzzing melodically through the crisp blackness, in perfect harmony with the crickets serenading the night. They flickered fleetingly, on and off, like broken streetlamps. The tiny insects were mobile stars, reflecting off of the calm, cold waters, and illuminating the placid surface with their soft, erratic glow and shedding light down into its forbidden depths. Danny called Sam's attention to it.

"I think this is all we have to worry about," he whispered, nuzzling her neck, unwilling to break the profound silence that had suddenly fallen gracefully upon them, like the first blanket of ivory snow on a frigid, winter afternoon.

Sam placed a gentle hand on his cheek, whispered back, "I hope so."

And in the utter stillness of the night, with the moon cradled in the clouds, bathing the land with ephemeral light, blue fire melted amethyst stone, and no evil dared pervade their serenity.

At least, not for tonight.

XOXOXO

Beneath the same sky, under the same glow of the same moon, a figure strode leisurely down the streets of Larkvane. The roads were filthy, with litter rolling down the path like tumbleweeds. The chain link fences around her were broken, in some areas torn all the way down, and the houses they were supposed to guard weren't much better. Shrill police sirens rang in the distance, and in one of the houses people were shouting. She was not in a good part of the city that much was obvious, though it was of little concern to her.

A draft blew her hair back. It was a chill night, and she supposed that if she had been able to feel different temperatures, she would've wished for a jacket. Of course, her skin was ten times tougher than leather, so it was really a moot point. It was nice to entertain such thoughts, though; one rarely got the chance these days. Things had become so busy so quickly, and being a human was a thing of the past, as was feeling the heat of the sun and the biting cold of the wind and snow. These were the negative aspects, though, and she didn't care to dwell on them. They made her feel a tad melancholy, and so she changed her stream of thought to something happier: She couldn't feel pain. Well, okay, yes she could, actually. The extremely horrendous, unbearable, writhing-on-the-ground type of pain, she unfortunately was still capable of enduring. The type that would automatically blow the mind of a human and cause them to scream and scream and scream and grovel for death… But getting stabbed in the arm, and paper cuts, and bullets to the stomach, and banging her knees on the coffee table, and stubbing her toes, and tearing her fingernails off one by one with tweezers (yes, she had tried that, and it had actually sort of tickled), and that sort of pain, she couldn't feel.

It was pretty cool.

A shift in the quiet atmosphere interrupted her from her musings. She sniffed; a new smell, acerbic and musty, permeated the air. Straining her ears, she could hear the light padding of footsteps several yards away, coming closer and closer in her direction. Someone was following her? How irritating.

The girl glanced down at her brand new, emerald tank top. Sequins lined the straps, and sparkles were sewn into the fabric. And these were her favorite pair of jeans, too! Dark-washed, low-rise. They fit her perfectly.

And now she was going to get some worthless human's blood on them. Just great.

The footprints were only a few feet away now, and a gruff male voice called out, "Hey, baby. Where do you think you're going this late at night?"

Might as well have fun with this, she thought, turning abruptly on her heel and doing her best to look terrified. It had been a while since she had experienced this particular emotion, and she hoped her face didn't give her away. Mouth trembling, eyes wide, eyebrows slightly together, right? In any case, the man didn't catch anything suspicious.

She saw that he was tanned, and taller than her, with broad shoulders and a built chest. His arms were fairly muscular, and he might've been considered lean if not for the beer belly extending over his belt. His face was rough, unshaven, with a crooked nose and menacing, dark eyes that roved over her shapely figure as if he were inspecting a piece of meat. He raised a beefy hand and scratched at his blonde buzz-cut, a sneer curling the corners of his thin lips.

The girl shuddered for added effect before speaking, an octave higher than normal. "Please don't hurt me! I'll give you my money, I swear, but please take me someplace safe!" She lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced around wearily, "This is when the monsters come out!"

The man seemed startled that she had addressed him so quickly, but then snickered. "Honey, the only monster you have to worry about is me. You have a beautiful little body," he took a threatening step towards her.

"Please, sir! Please don't come any closer!" She cried, internally laughing at herself because of how false she sounded. The guy must've been really, really stupid.

"Come on, sweetheart. Daddy wants to have a little fun. I won't hurt you too bad."

What an idiot. "Well, okay, but can I tell you something first?" She moved close to him, standing on her tiptoes and placing her hands on his shoulders. He stopped in his tracks, bewildered.

She muttered darkly into his ear, "You're bothering me."

And then in one fluid movement, the girl grabbed him and hurled him into the nearest alley, as easily as if she were throwing around a ragdoll. Relaxed, she quickly followed his fall, and before he hit the ground, she had kicked him into the wall.

He coughed up blood, wiping it away from his mouth in horror. "Wh-What are you? What are you?"

She cackled, a fallen angel with her back silhouetted by the moonlight and her eyes glowing fiercely. No, not even an angel. A devil. A demon. "I am one of the monsters, baby."

Casually, she kneeled next to him and with one delicate fingernail carved a bloody path down his cheek. "Scream," she whispered seductively, amused by the incoherent pleas that were tumbling out of his quivering lips, "I dare you."

And just as he drew a breath for a decent screech, she snapped his neck.

The girl was hungry, and for a split second considered a quick feeding. But it was getting early, with only several hours until dawn, and she decided she could do without. Plus, he was already dead. It was never any fun when they were already dead.

She stood and inspected her clothing, noting with satisfaction that she hadn't stained her shirt at all. Her pants had suffered a few blood spatters, but she thought they might come out with a good washing.

Pacing now, because she was late, she carried on down the dark streets. A policeman dared stop her, inquiring as to whether or not she was okay, and she disposed of him quickly, neatly, threw his body in a dumpster. Why can't anyone just mind their own business these days? People are so rude, she grumbled to herself as she made a sharp turn into an alleyway. The darkness imposed itself upon her, swallowed her up as she disappeared down the path. Buildings on either side of her blocked the passage of any light, and all was quiet, so still that not even the wind followed in her wake.

A door to the left of her swung open without warning, but she wasn't startled; she had expected it. A long, slender arm extended and its fingers beckoned her forward. Hissing filled the alley, like someone was letting air out of a tire.

She rolled her eyes. "Corbeau, enough with the dramatics. You're not scaring anyone."

"Comment le savez-vous étiez-vous moi ?" He huffed, stepping out of the shadowy entrance. His espresso-colored skin and hair seemed to blend in with the background, though his hazel eyes glistened with an emotion she couldn't understand. She was sure she'd find out soon enough. He shoved his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, his jeans stained with fresh blood and dirt. So she wasn't the only one who had had to make a quick stop.

"Nous sommes dans Amerca. Parler anglais, stupide. We're in America. Speak English, stupid. And by the way, it wasn't that hard to figure out it was you. No one else is that idiotic. "

"It's not fair, Faye!" he whined, "Why did we have to learn a different language?"

"Because we're in their territory. If the situation was reversed, they would've learned French." Faye was growing increasingly annoyed, and she had to strain to keep her voice level.

"But the Redo Kid herself speaks French! She's even from France."

"Enough!" Faye yelled, swiping him across the face with her nails. He didn't even flinch. "We're standing out here in the open like imbeciles when we should be at the meeting!"

Faye brushed past him, shaking her head. Dealing with Corbeau was always agitating. Granted, he was one of the youngest, but did he really have to be so immature?

He followed, complaining under his breath, "English is an ugly language…"

Together, they descended two flights of stairs lit by torches and then entered into a huge, oval room. The walls were sparse of decoration, and harsh florescent lights burned their eyes; they quickly raised their hands to their foreheads in an attempt to shut some of it out. In front of them, at least fifty others were clustered around, all on their knees, chattering bleakly about something Faye knew she had missed.

"What's going on?" She muttered to Corbeau.

He just sighed. "You'll have to see for yourself."

At the front of the room, a man dressed in red robes stood at a podium. Faye thought he looked familiar. His salt-and-pepper hair was long, too long in Faye's opinion, and was tied into a ponytail. He had a beak for a nose, and large, yellow eyes. He waved a withered hand, gesturing towards the crowd, and Faye remembered who he was:

His name was Dax, and he was a head priest. From France, of course. Otherwise, she wouldn't know him. And, if her memory did not fail her, he was the one who had finally managed to track down the Redo Kid.

Head Priest Dax's voice was richly coarse, layered with many years of knowledge, of trial and errors, of triumphs and disappointments. "Bonjour, mes enfants," he began, "Hello, my children. I'm pleased to see that you all could come. Has everyone fed well these past few weeks?"

They all nodded in general agreement.

"America is a beautiful country, is it not? Filled with beautiful landscapes and beautiful waters. We thank our American relatives who allowed us to venture onto their turf with no trouble. Thank you!

For this land is also, as most of you already know, where the ceremony shall take place. The ceremony that we have all waited for, for centuries!"

Eager murmurs filled the room.

"It is in the quaint city of Amity Park, my sweet, sweet family, located in a cavern deep in a forest, that our existences will change forever. No longer will we have to hide in the darkness, my dear children, oh no. We will call forth our deceased brethren from their graves, and coat the world in ashes. No more sun! We will at last rule this earth. We will at last reclaim our rightful throne. The humans will perish, and would you like to know why?"

Dax paused, his eyes glowing in excitement. "It is because of one special girl who has already lived in one lifetime. One special child that has enough spirit, enough power, and just enough-" Dax grinned wickedly "-evil within her to raise our fallen comrades from the pits of Hell. Please, bow down before her!"

Faye bowed deeply, her nose skimming the ground; everyone else did the same. When she looked up again, a tiny girl was standing next to (or rather, behind) Dax. He was smiling in a fatherly way down at her. Faye dimly wondered where she had arrived from, but then noticed the many side door entrances. So this was the famed "Redo Kid", as the lesser of her kind had dubbed her, though her real name was-

Dax began stroking her white blonde hair. "Except we have a small problem, don't we?" He cooed, only to her. He then turned his attention back to the crowd. "Born of a human mother and an undead father, she is able to repress her more…animalistic instincts. She feels compassion towards the filthy abominations known as mankind. It was a slight glitch in the Predecessor's plan, though of course we all make mistakes. She refuses to feed upon the lower species, and is thus weak. You see how thin she is? We need her at her most powerful. And as an added bonus…the more blood she drinks, the more sadistic she will become. Honestly, how many of you feel like killing for the fun of it when you haven't eaten in a while?" Dax chuckled.

"And so," he sighed and pushed the girl into the group, "I'm afraid we must force her to feed."

The multitude rose to their feet and advanced to her. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks.

A human was brought forth, a squirming little thing still in his PJs, and Faye tsked. He would never be enough to feed her starving leader. But to Faye's astonishment, the Redo Kid grabbed the child and held him, shielded him from the rest of them.

Eventually, Faye knew, she would succumb to her nature. The blonde girl screamed and hugged the human boy closer to her chest, her screeches hurting her ears. One of her bolder brothers grabbed her neck and roughly shoved her face down into the child's neck, pressing so tightly that blood began to seep out of her mouth.

Dax rose his arms majestically above his head as the masses forced the wailing girl to eat, rose them and swayed them amidst the chaos, and called out for the sleeping world to hear,

"The vampires shall rise again!"

AN:

Whoa! Cheesy much?

I'm using the translating system from dictionary dot com, and so yes, the translations are probably not the most accurate but I'm doing my best. :)

If I don't get any reviews I am going to cry. I worked my BUTT off on this chapter! I don't know, it was just hard to write for some reason! As always, I apologize for any grammatical errors. Is this story getting too confusing? Or just confusing enough? Please tell me what you think! :)