This one took a little longer than I expected, but I finally got done tweaking it. We're switching back to Vlad's perspective for the first time since the beginning, so I hope you like it. The rest of the story should mostly alternate between Vlad and Danny's POV.
As always, if you have questions or suggestions, please shoot me a message.
Vlad Masters was used to being noticed.
Over the last ten years, his rapid rise to wealth and influence had drawn the constant attention of the human world. His hybrid nature and merciless hatred for all ghosts did the same in the ghost zone.
So, when Vlad entered the dark tent that was swarming with the activity of both humans and ghosts, his brow drew into a pronounced scowl when no one immediately came forward to receive him.
To his credit, the ringmaster was a little preoccupied. Vlad watched with interest as the unnaturally pale man he had seen only in pictures tried to whip his hired help into shape. He was obviously in a high temper with the group of workers he had hired from Amity park to install the vast amount of staging and lights that a circus, even a dark one like Gothica, needed to run.
"You idiots! We may be a freak show, but even I know that center ring needs to be in the center of the tent!" The man's high pitched voice rose over the noise. "We open in two days! I need a ring to master!" The workers were obviously more interested in watching the performers practice than their own responsibilities.
Vlad decided to take advantage of his unexpected invisibility. He slipped around the edge of the tent, carefully watching the melee of activities going on around him. His skin tingled at the ghostly energy that hung in the air as thickly as the dust. If Ms. Gray was correct in her guess that every performer at Gothica was a ghost, then there were over two dozen within the tent alone. Though none of the performers appeared to notice him as he made his way around the edge of the ring, the back of his neck prickled with the assurance that he was being watched.
Vlad was grudgingly impressed by these ghosts ability to mask themselves. At first glance, they appeared completely human, bizarre props and stage makeup aside. Even so, no disguise is perfect.
The gigantic man juggling an astonishing amount of flaming skulls was not sweating in the intense heat given off by his props. The contortionist who was warming up nearby was not breathing. A heavily pierced, corseted woman sitting on the opposite side of the ring was staring, unblinking, at the high ceiling of the tent.
Vlad knew it was foolish on his part to walk right into the nest, human form or not, but he couldn't resist seeing it for himself. He hadn't wanted to get personally involved until he could figure out what the ringmaster had done that caused his loss of control. Yet, Ms. Gray had insisted that Freakshow was human.
The staring woman.
The juggler with his skulls.
Technicians hoisting lights to the catwalks high above.
The contortionist in a position he couldn't even begin to describe.
The ringmaster shouting at a group of embarrassed workers.
A pack of clowns that all bore an unusual amount of teeth.
Around and around his gaze swept the shadowed ring. Vlad knew what he was really looking for. The boy. A level 7 ghost disguised as a white haired teenager. He honestly expected the creature to be among the other performers. If Freakshow wasn't a ghost, a revelation that still surprised him, the boy had to be the one in charge. So where the devil was he?
His gaze landed once again on the corseted woman. What was she staring at? The back of his neck prickled once again with the assurance that he was being watched. A sudden suspicion took hold, and his head snapped upwards.
The highwire was stretched taut across the length of the tent. In the exact center a scythe was standing upright with the slender form of a boy crouched with impossible balance on the handle of his blade. His large, glittering eyes were keenly focused on his own. Vlad suppressed a shudder as he realized he'd been walking beneath him the entire time.
They stared at each other, both cautious and calculating. Then, to Vlad's irritation, the boy jerked his head dismissively. Turning his back, he shifted his weight from his feet to a single palm and began balancing on it, his body completely horizontal to the floor.
Finding himself able to breath again, now that the boy wasn't paralyzing him with his stare, Vlad's eyes narrowed. The boy precariously balancing far above him with a look of total boredom had to be the ghost that Ms. Gray had described, but was he?
Unlike the rest of the cast he had seen, this boy was almost certainly human. He was breathing deeply, and his body shook slightly as he shifted into a single armed handstand. He could even see the faint gleam of sweat near his hairline. There was absolutely no sign of anything supernatural about the child. Except, perhaps, his amazing balance. Besides, the ghost's human disguise was supposed to be a white haired boy with red eyes. Unless that wasn't his human disguise, but his true form?
"Incredible, isn't it?" A smug voice said behind him.
Vlad braced himself, mentally preparing for another assault on his senses as the ringmaster appeared at his side, his dull red eyes focused on the figure on the highwire.
"He's the youngest of my cast. Though, I suppose, they all started a little late." He laughed at some private joke.
"You have a unique cast, Showenhower." Vlad admitted after a long moment. The ringmaster's voice was having absolutely no effect on him. "One can't help but wonder how you manage them all." Freakshow bared his teeth in a smile, obviously annoyed that Vlad had used his real name.
"Of course, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Vlad tensed slightly. "I may command a small troupe, but you manage such lucrative companies, not to mention an entire city." Vlad straightened, inwardly frowning at his apprehension. Freakshow hadn't been alluding to his alternate identity.
"It's all a matter of having the right tools." He couldn't help but smirk at the memory of his rise to power. It was only fair, after all, that he should use his abilities to take from others when so much was taken from him.
"Oh, I agree!" Freakshow laughed again. The loud sound was starting to grate on his nerves. It was beyond infuriating to Vlad that this scarecrow of a man was the only thing making him hesitate to just level the entire tent. How was Freakshow human? Was he being possessed? Did he even realize he was surrounded by ghosts? He was either very stupid or very brave.
"I must say I was intrigued to receive the city's invitation to perform here in Amity Park." Freakshow continued " What inspired your decision?"
"Irony." Vlad shrugged, "A gothic circus for a haunted town."
"Ah, yes." Freakshows eyes gleamed. "I've seen the footage of course. I'd be very interested to catch a glimpse of the town mascot. I'm a little surprised I haven't already."
"In the meantime, I'm afraid I have a favor to ask of you, ringmaster." Vlad said smoothly, choosing to ignore being called a mascot.
"Anything I can control is at your service my dear mayor." Vlad suppressed a sneer at his groveling. Instead he gave a longsuffering sigh and continued.
"My niece is rather smitten with your show, and especially with a certain tightrope walker. Is there any way you could introduce me to the boy that has caught my dear niece's attention?"
"Such a simple request is almost an insult to a man of my resources, but if that is what you wish. . ." Freakshow turned his gaze back to the tightrope. The boy was walking along the cord with ease, his scythe prop slung casually across his shoulders. Freakshow made a loud, almost chirping noise. Vlad suppressed his unease as every performer in the tent froze, their attention immediately on the Ringmaster.
"Boy! Center ring!" Freakshow called in the sudden silence, unperturbed.
The boy's head jerked back in surprise, and he stared down at the ringmaster for several moments. Then, with a fluid motion, he flung his scythe towards the ground. It twirled rapidly in the air before sinking blade first into the dirt, quivering to a halt with the handle horizontal to the floor. Vlad stared at it. The scythe was real? If the boy was human, his hands would be in shreds. Did that mean this boy really was the ghost? The boy's voice tugged him out of his thoughts.
"Hey muscles!" There was barely suppressed laughter in his voice as he called to the massive juggler who had had the misfortune of choosing to stand directly beneath the highwire. "Catch!"
Vlad bit back a gasp as the boy jumped from the highwire, flipping neatly through the air as he hurtled towards the ground. He watched in shock, temporarily forgetting that the boy was possibly the ghost that he had been warned about, as he plummeted towards the floor.
The juggler flinched when he realized what was happening, and the steady loop of objects he had been deftly throwing clattered to the ground as he abandoned them to prevent his fellow cast member from smashing into the dirt. He barely managed get his arms out in time, grunting slightly as the boy slammed into him.
"Thanks, muscles!" The boy said sweetly, apparently unhurt. He patted the ghost's cheek condescendingly as he was lowered to the ground. The only response was a sharp whack upside the head as the juggler bent down to retrieve his props, sending the boy staggering.
He recovered quickly and tossed his dark, unevenly cut hair out of his eyes. A small smile tugged at his mouth as he strode towards the waiting men. The ringmaster appeared bored by the whole display, and began talking as the boy quietly came to stand by his side.
"This is Mayor Masters, boy. He requested to meet you."
The teen bowed theatrically to the man. Vlad tried to hide his distaste for the boy's ripped pants, bare feet, and shirt that looked like it had probably come from Gothica's reject merchandise.
"It's always a pleasure to meet the giver of the game." The boy straightened and pinned Vlad in his blue eyed stare once again. "Come to embrace your dark side, Mayor Masters?"
Vlad didn't answer right away. Something about this boy was bothering him. Well, besides the fact that he couldn't determine if this boy was truly the ghost he was looking for. Vlad just couldn't shake a sudden feeling that there was something familiar about him. It wasn't the graceful walk, or the mockingly confident way he spoke. It was something in the curve of his mouth and tilt of his head. Something in the large blue eyes carefully lined with dark stage makeup.
Unnerved by his thoughts, Vlad answered the boy with a condescending laugh.
"I hardly need a circus to do that, my boy. I'm here to greet the cast of this fine company, and make sure you're all settling in well. It's the least I can do, considering I'm sponsoring your presence here."
The boy appeared unimpressed by this sentiment. He absentmindedly plucked off the leather half gloves that were covering his palms, and snapped them onto his belt. Why was the boy wearing so many belts? He didn't understand, there had to be at least three of them.
"A flattering notion for a humble circus." Freakshow interjected, scowling at the boy's attitude.
"I'm afraid I don't know your name," Vlad continued, ignoring the ringmaster. "I promised my niece I would ask. She was very impressed by your performance at the opening ceremonies."
For the first time the boy seemed uncertain. His hand crept to the back of his neck and fidgeted with the leather choker that rested there. His eyes flicked almost imperceptibly toward the ringmaster standing next to him. The man stepped forward to answer, slightly blocking the boy from view.
"Your niece may come to any performance of his that she wishes." Freakshow said smoothly. "The boy's tightrope act is titled Reaper, and he does a delightfully terrifying act on the trapeze with his mother, titled Phantom."
"You do an act with your mother?" Vlad politely changed the subject to lure the two into a false sense of security. The boy's strange reaction to being asked his name only heightened his certainty that it would confirm his identity, ghostly or not.
"Yes." The boy pointed behind Vlad. "That's my mom, her name is Lydia." He turned and jumped slightly when he saw the corseted woman standing directly behind him. She gazed at him with blank eyes, then strode past him to wrap a arm around the boy's shoulders as Freakshow began to speak once more.
"Well, I'm afraid we must be getting back to our responsibilities. I have some construction to oversee, and the boy really should be getting back to his warm up. We hope to see you at Saturday's performance."
"Of course." Vlad replied graciously, irked by the obvious dismissal.
Freakshow strode off towards the other side of the tent, while the other two began walking towards the tightrope. They were obviously having a rapid conversation using nothing but their eyes and subtle tilts of their heads. The boy shook his head firmly at one final look from his mother and turned away from her.
"Hey, muscles!" The boy called, effortlessly wrenching his scythe from the ground as he strode past it, "Wanna give me a lift?"
The juggler scowled, but began throwing his skulls in a higher, but slower, circle. The boy grinned and sprinted towards him, scythe flashing dangerously in the dim light of the tent. The juggler extended his cupped hands in the brief second they were free and launched the boy straight into the air. The boy twisted to hook his knees on the almost invisible cord of the tightrope. He cheerfully waved his scythe in thanks and dangled there lazily.
"Excuse me, Lydia was it?" It was almost painful to address a ghost so politely, but he had to keep up appearances. The ghost turned, her eyes once again blank as she turned away from her 'son'.
"It was a pleasure to meet you and your son. I hope to see your performance of Phantom." Her face could have been carved from stone. Vlad turned away from her and looked up to where the boy was still hanging from the tightrope. He at least had the decency to act like he hadn't been trying to eavesdrop.
"I never did catch your name," Vlad called, "I'm afraid my niece was really quite insistent." He shrugged indifferently.
The boy glanced at the woman. Another rapid flurry of expressions passed between them, and Lydia shrugged slightly. Swinging up to sit on the cord, the boy looked down at the scythe in his hands.
"My name is Danny, but everyone just calls me Phantom."
Hmmmmmmmmm *Starts poking Vlad* HMMMMMMMMMMM!
See you in a day or two!