Chapter Eight: The Call of Red
Like any other day the great and powerful hero of the world sat comfortably in his recliner, feet atop his desk and playing on his PSP while his secretary threatened him from beyond his office door. But, unlike other days, the young immortal hero had actually fortified said door, using the bodies of several upon several sad ghost vultures and the random moose, to hold the door still as the secretary kicked and screamed and blasted away with her bazooka.
Alas, he had not done so for the window.
On the bright side, it was not his secretary (who would have surely killed him a second time, immortality be damned) who found this out.
On the not so bright side…it was Youngblood.
"Ahoy Matey!" the child cried as he flew through the window, scattering the painstakingly staked pile of papers balanced precariously on the corner of the desk and completely ignoring (or otherwise not caring) the utter transformation of the hero to Evil Dan. "You'll never guess who's called!"
Before fangs could snap and seething red eyes could scold, the boy continued, "Akashi!"
And, suddenly, the child's action's made sense.
For the strange human was indeed far scarier that Dark Dan, though why this was is something beyond the worlds hero's scope of understanding…or maybe that was just an excuse he liked to tell himself in order to escape the trauma of his first encounter with the red haired terror and the strange little doll that stood in the corner, eyes glowing with untold tales of death and torture. The creepy old bat that chuckled in the background didn't help any.
With a grunt the hero, for the first time that day, sat correctly in his seat and clasped his hands together on the desk, ignoring the papers the scattered at the action.
"What does he want?"
"Well," the dead child began, trying hard to remember, so hard, in fact, that he whacked himself on the head with his hooked hand, almost catching his eye and lip a few times, but skillfully pretending it never happened. "Something about 'getting his retarded arse over here,' though, more refined, or something."
If the young hero hadn't already been so used to the ghosts antics he was certain he'd have blown him into next week, as it were his eyebrow was twitching with such ferocity Young Blood was scared it would find some way to attack him. Or maybe the child should have been looking out for the pen, which had somehow found its way into the hero's hand, being flipped and spun and somehow looking deathly sharp.
"And that is all he said?"
"Um," the child tilted his head to the side, tapping his lip with his hook and looking about, "uh…yeah, I think."
"You think." The hero drawled, feeling disturbingly allot like Vlad at the moment.
"Yup!" the child cried before skillfully zooming out of the room, just barely dodging the pen, no doubt ghostproof, aimed for his head.
"Daniel Fenton!" cried the hero's secretary, patience at its limit (cause apparently the fact that she only used a bazooka was a sign of patience, or so the women declared whenever the hero asked), "I swear, if you don't open this door this instant-!"
But, really, Danny wasn't in the mood. If the fraken devil himself has called for his…assistance (though he only dared to use the term loosely, as the young man would be sure to rip out his tongue if he dared say anything of the sort out loud, and man does it hurt!), then he needed to get there, like yesterday, or last week, hell, last month!
"Paulina!" the hero called through the door, "I'm off to save the world!"
"Like hell!" the secretary screamed, "from what, a rampaging undead kitten?"
It was true, as of late there was nothing to save the world from, nothing at all. Though some strange things had happened, like nightmares suddenly taking hold of all the children and darkness seeping into everyone's soul's, making them all depressed, but that had resolved itself nicely. Not that he'd have been able to do anything about it anyway, as he was stuck in bed due to a cold (Paulina laughed so hard when she found out about it, and Sam, bless her, actually came over and cared for him, skillfully kicking the laughing secretary out on the street).
"Nah, but I'm sure scissors will be falling from the sky at any moment!"
And thus the hero heroically flew out of his office, gleefully leaving a pissed secretary behind, though if the giant blast that followed was any indication, he wouldn't have an office left to return to.
Ah, well, that was for later. At least he remembered to store his games in a Paulina-proof vault.
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A/N: Don't ask how I got the title, it just is cause it is.
