Authors Notes
WOoOoOo...The plot is thickening. Was able to write a big chunk of this really fast, because there was a thunderstorm, so my internet was down. That way, I had no distractions VIA browsing youtube, so I was able to focus purely on this for a large amount of time. I have a feeling I'm gonna pull an all-nighter to get this story done, to make up for my absence tomorrow. Sorry about that, by the way. Going to be at my Grandma's house. Anyway, Coca Cola has become my best friend when writting these chapters. If I don't finish this story, I have a feeling I will foam at the mouth and fall into a writer's block coma for all eternity. But enough of that, let's do this! *Cracks Knuckles*
Ghost Zone, Grim Reaper's Lair; Limbo.
Danny stirred from his spell-induced sleep, a profound, needle sharp headache drilling into his brain. His consiousness processed the pain, but was dulled, and could not compute why he was feeling it. Thoughts swirled in his head, evidently supressed when the discomfort faded with time, leaving him to wonder if he had truly felt it, or it was just an illusion his subconscious had conjured up to prod him into awareness. He felt weightless, muscles relaxed and loose, pleasureably at peace. His brain released happy endorphins, giving him an uncanny sensation of well-being, and a sense of safety. The halfa was almost content to simply float there, remain oblivious to what was around him, unknown as it was. But eventually, his natural curiousity peaked, and he felt the urge to explore. This shattered the spell placed on him, fragmenting it like a broken glass mirror. The state of primal contentment lifted, leaving him feeling weak, numb, and confused. He opened his eyes, blinking his vision into focus as black spots danced before him. For a brief moment, he was clueless as to where he was, gazing at the gray-red sky dotted with staring, inhuman eyes. The land was foriegn, charred, and decaying, lifelessly barren, unnaturally so. But as he looked about, his memory came back in a flash. He was in the Grim Reaper's Lair; Limbo. His house guest, in a sense. The thought of the skeletal Death God would have sent a shiver down his spine the day before, but he now felt that Death was not an evil ghost, despite his odd murderous hate towards Clockwork. Besides, the ancient ghost could've killed him at any point in time, during his 4 day captivity/ stay, yet he hadn't. That made the spook alright in his book, though he still gave the halfa a bad vibe.
He couldn't really place the feeling, actually. It was just something about the Reaper that set off alarm bells in his head, though the source was unknown. He had saved his hide from near-death, afterall, and was protecting Amity Park in his absence. Surely he wasn't as malicious, and dark as the legends described him as. Granted, maybe he was a little harsh when it came to torturing him, for merely taking a glance at the TO DIE list, and his gory artwork, but he didn't appear to be a bad guy, rather misunderstood. It was understandable that he be a tad mentally unstable, considering his job was to kill dying people for all eternity. Reaper had probably seen more than his fair share of the horrors humanity had to offer, during his millenias of existance. But despite that, he persisted to uphold his Death God status, while any other person would've fled from the duty at the first opportunity they got. Commendable, and extremely impressive, Death having yet to break under the insufferable weight of strain that came with the job. Danny had merely defended his hometown from supernatural invaders for a year and a half, and the stress was sometimes more than he could bare. His imagination couldn't fathom what Death's duty was doing to his mind, to his very soul, after all these years. Jazz would've loved to disect the ancient ghost's mind, find out what made the spook tick, probably document it all for a phycology paper on the effects of stress on the human mind.
Thinking of the black wearing spector, Danny looked about, attempting to locate his gracious host. The black marble collumn from which the TO DIE list hung was missing, as was the thorned, red pentagonal Ghost Portal, giving the place a more open feel to it, yet at the same time boading ill with Danny's subsconsious, which his clueless conscious mind ignored entirely as usual. As his toxic green gaze wandered, he took notice that Limbo now had a more forboading aura about it, somehow darker than before Danny was spelled. Black, forked lightning zigzagged in the oddly coloured clouds, the atmosphere dry and heavy, the ground trembling with slight tremors. Danny had considered the place depressing before, but now the gloom it gave off now was almost palpable.
A cold chuckled echoed behind the halfa, causing him to turn to its source. Large, ash coated stone stairs rose from the dead earth, winding like a twisted tree a good 5 metres in the air. At the peak of the steps was a spiked, obsidian black throne, decorated in disfigured human skulls, and crimson strips of cloth dangling from rusted chains. Intricate runes were carved into the chair, embented with a number of darkly colour gems, appearing worthy of an evil king. Death sat in the throne. The stoic skull was twisted into a sinister, bemused grin, bone ghost tail wisping from side to side, off the ledge of the seat. His head was resting against one skeletal hand, while the other tapped a clawed finger on the arm of the decorated chair, almost expectantly.
"I trust you had a pleasant sleep?" the ghost asked, an odd coldness underlying his tone.
Danny nodded slowly, eyes narrowed slightly. Something was definately different about the ancient spook, sinister. He couldn't place the thought, but it nagged at the back of his consciousness like his overbarring sister. He saw the Reaper's red eye flare, and immediantly knew the ghost had read his mind, and didn't like what he saw. Danny attempted to block out all thoughts, clearing his consciousness, succeeding almost easily, which was somewhat insulting to his intellegence.
Death's expression morphed, becoming the picture of a gracious host, causing Danny to doubt himself, considering if he was simply seeing things. The Grim Reaper cracked a grin, appearing genuinely pleased to know that his guest had gotten a contentful rest.
"That is good," he said, "Good sleep is hard to come by these days, especially for hardworking ghosts such as you, and me."
Danny silently agreed with that statement, the latenight ghost hunting often depreiving him hours of much-needed rest, causing his usually fall asleep in Mr. Lancer's class. Some days he always thought he would pass out from lack of sleep, sometimes even during ghost attacks. Juggling ghost hunting, and his personal life would pretty soon become a health hazard if he didn't get more sleep. Death seemed to give him sympathetic look from the height of his throne, leaning back in the seat.
"Yes," Death mused, "No one understands the troubles that come with our duties, themselves content in lounging in arrogance, and perfering to get others to do the difficult tasks for them." The spook shook his head in disbelief, as if he'd never consider the thought.
A thought spiked into Danny's mind.
"Sam and Tucker, Jazz, my parents...how are they doing?" Danny asked, gazing questioningly at the Death God.
The Grim Reaper appeared to be taken off guard by that, not expecting the question so suddenly had it been spoken aloud, lacking the chance to read his mind before he had asked it. To his credit, he recovered quickly.
"They are fine," he assured, a hurt expression dancing along his skull features, "The doppleganger has snapped them out of their depression. Your family is doing well." There sounded to be an odd hidden meaning burried within those last 5 words, but as usual, it skimmed right over Danny's head.
Noticing at last that he could move more easily, he looked down at himself to see that his body lacked the white bandages that had been wrapped tightly around him the day previous. The halfa's torn, insigna barring hazmat suit had naturally repaired itself, now whole once more. He never really understood how it did that. He stretched his body to its limits, testing to see how limber his muscles were. Regardless to what manner he moved his limbs, no pain spiked in his brain, or crippling weakness left him numb. He felt normal, uninjured despite the pounding headache that persisted to stalk him. The halfa's mind buzzed, energiezed by the realization that he was back at 100% at last.
He looked at the Grim Reaper in the eye, thinking as loudly as he could, sending the unasked question to the mind reader in an almost childish manner. The slitted pupil dilated, seeming to strip away at his mental defenses like they were made of puddy. The red eye gleamed, signifiying that Reaper had heard his thoughts, and he apparently didn't like it. Shadows danced menacingly on his scowling skeletal face, forked tongue flickering out from between from his fanged maw. Danny noticed his boney hand clenched, claws digging deep into the arm of the throne. This uncharacteristic show of anger was confusion worthy for Danny, unable to comprehend why his request to leave would cause Death to be infuriated. Maybe it was because he didn't say please...
The Grim Reaper snapped a finger, and the ground split open, rotting undead tentacles wrapping around him, retraining any, and all movement from the halfa. Danny struggled, attempted to phase through, or break free off the vines' grasp. It was impossible. The decaying limbs were as resistant to his thrashing as steel cables, the eerie red glow they eminated seeping into his core, effectively cutting him off from his ghostly abilites. After a beckoning guesture from Death, the appendages brought the squirming half ghost closer to the Death God's throne, until he could practically smell the discusting scent of decay, and death hanging over him in a choking cloud.
"I'm afriad I cannot allow you to leave," Death hissed, "We still have much left to discuss,"
"Let me go!" Danny said, still writhing in the bone-snapping grip of the rotting tentacles.
The Grim Reaper feigned a wounded expression, which should have been impossible considering showing emotion was unlikely when your face was a skull. But then again, logic went out the metophorical window when it came to ghosts.
"You would leave, abandoning these two humans to suffer?" Death asked, a crazed grin cracked across his face. Two more decaying apendages sprouted from the dry earth, holding a twisted, black barred cage in the air. Within the cage, Tucker and Sam lay, clothes ragged, bodies battered. "And you call yourself their friend." Death cackled, his voice resonating in Danny's skull.
The halfa's eyes widened slightly, staring at the limp forms of his best friends. For an instant, he thought they were dead. Unconscious, not dead, Danny thought, seeing the steady - if not strained - rise and fall of their chests. Anger bubbled in his veins, directed at the skeletal ghost that had kidnapped, and hurt his friends. Danny growled dangerously, glaring at the spook sitting on his obsidian throne, looking quite amused by the halfa's rage. The clone had chosen wisely for the bargaining piece. This child was so easily provoked, given the right motivation.
"Now that I have your attention," Death sneered, expression instantly becoming serious, "I have a proposition for you, boy."
Danny's ectoplasmic green eyes bored holes into the spook's skull face. "I'm listening,"
The Grim Reaper smirked -again, quite impressive considering he currently had no lips to speak of.
"Five days ago, when you were attacked by Vlad Plasmius, and left for dead in the Ghost Zone, your archenemy stole from your possession, a blackened, skull design barring key." Death stated, tongue lashing in anger, "That key was once mine, until it was stolen by a paultry thief. The culpret hs eluded me for quite some time, but I had managed to track it down six days past. Unfortunately, it had already entrusted the artifact into your possession, and thus it escaped my grasp yet again."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Danny asked, anger still underlying his voice.
"I want you to track down Vlad Masters, and retrieve the key for me," The Grim Reaper hissed through his fangs, "If you do this, I will release your friends, and you may return to the human realm. Everyone walks away content, and no one besides that fool, Plasmius has to die."
"Why not just get your clone of me to do it?"
Death scowled, irritated at all the questions this child kept spouting off. Honestly, what was so difficult to grasp about this whole situation? The boy had retrieve what was rightfully his, or else he would kill his friends in cold blood. It was not a hard concept to understand.
"You of all people should know how unstable clones can be," Death snarled, "The doppleganger barely lasted a day, surviving only long enough to capture your friends here, before disolving into a puddle of ectoplasm. A shame, really, but such is the fate that all clones suffer... eventually."
Danny fell silent, thoughts swirling in his mind. All he had to do was just get this key from Vlad, and then Death would release Sam and Tucker. It sounded fair, all things considered. It probably wasn't going to be easy, but he could manage. He found himself doubting the Grim Reaper's honesty, as he had built this entire situation around Danny ears without him noticing. Who was to say he wouldn't simply take the key, and kill him, and his friends regardless out of spite?
"The truth is...you don't," Death hissed, answering Phantom's unasked question, "All that is certain, is that I will kill your friends should you refuse my...generous offer."
Danny swallowed, fully believing the sinister ghost. "Fine...I'll do it."
"I knew you would," With a gesture, the skeletal tendrils retreated back into the earth, releasing Danny. The cage containing the halfa's friends disappeared, vanishing into the depths as the crevices snapped shut. Danny floated in front of Death, glaring daggers, before clenching his hands into fists, and taking off swiftly in the opposite direction, disappearing into the swirling green void of the Ghost Zone. The Grim Reaper remained seated, absentmindedly carving deep grooves into the arm of the throne with a 3 inch long claw. The boy would complete his appointed task to save his friends, there was no doubt about that. What gnawed at his mind continuously was the question of if Clockwork would intervene before the key fell, once again, into his possession. The thought of his father made his blood boil, igniting his mind aflame in an inferno of hatred. It took him a moment, but he managed to calm himself, leaning back against his chair as much as his horns would permit. No doubt the timelord was already making his move against him. But that old fool would not stop him, deny him his birthright of ultimate power, and domination over all of the Ghost Zone.
He had been the strongest ghost in all of history, until his father had put a swift end to his ambitions to rule over all, sending a petty thief to spirit away the source to his true power, which -ironically- was a key. Centuries of searching pursude, but to no avail. The thief eluded him at every turn...until now. It had finally slipped up, and Death had finally cornered him. Unfortunately, it had already passed the key on to another; Danny Phantom. And even despite his best efforts to sieze the boy, the artifact continued to evade him. But not for long. Currently, it was in the possession of Vlad Masters, an upstart halfa of small renown, hardly worth Death himself to visit to retrieve what didn't belong to him. But he could already sense Clockwork's approch upon the billionaire...he intended to hide the source of his power yet again, far from his grasp. He didn't expect his piece in the game to make it in time to counter Clockwork's advance, but moreso to lure the timelord into the open. He would act as a beacon, a way to locate Clockwork when he appeared to confront Danny. He was predictable that way. His father had developed strong mental defenses over the millenia of their conflict, making it almost impossible to keep track of him, or read his thoughts. Danny on the other hand, had a mind that could be read as easily as an open book. He could hear every thought whirling inside his head, making it an simple task to find him wherever he may be. It was the equivalent of strapping bright, multicoloured neon signs over his head, and sticking him in a small, empty gray room. The two halfas -Danny and Vlad - were merely pawns, caught in the middle of a 4.3 thousand millenia old power squabble between two ancient ghosts. A dangerous place to be.
Death thought of the might he once possessed, yearning to wield it once more to smite down his pathetic father, get his revenge at last for all those billions of years of abandonment, and rejection. Clockwork had left him to rot in Limbo, bound for all eternity by the gruesome duties as Lord of the Dead. He could do nothing to create, to give life. All he could do was destroy, his dark power gnawing away at him from the inside out, forced to be utterly alone for the majority of his afterlife, surrounded by nothing but death, and decay. And it was all Clockwork's fault. It was his subtle cruelty that had made him suffer in Limbo for 4 billion years...
...And he would PAY...
Author's Notes
WoOoOoOo The Grim Reaper is INSANE! He wants to kill everyone, just because he and his dad don't see eye-to-eye. A little extreme, I'd say, but then again this is Death we're talking about. When you think Lord of the Dead, you don't exactly picture gumdrops and rainbows now do you? As someone -I don't know who- once said, 'Great power corrupts.' Which I suppose could've happened to him at some point. Woah, two chapters done in a day. Now I KNOW I don't have a life! So now we know the key is the secret to reawakening some ultimate, badass power in the Grim Reaper, so why does VLAD have it? He can't even use it, so what purpose could he want the key for, or is it just because he loves stealing shiny things from people? I don't even know at this point! My brain is mush from writting so much! I'm just gonna let you people guess, and leave it at that. I'm leaving for my grandma's house tomorrow, and wont be back for two days, so expect a delayed update, as It will take awhile to get my writting cap back on. Good bye, and I hope you enjoyed this extremely confusing chapter.
