I do not own Danny Phantom or any of the songs used before the fic.
I'm Inevitable: Chapter 9
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
I walk this empty street,
On the boulevard of broken dreams.
Where the city sleeps,
And I'm the only one and I walk alone.
~Green Day
Vladimir Masters couldn't help but take advantage of certain moments; after all he's no saint. Let's face it; the eldest hybrid couldn't resist a really good opportunity when one came along.
That being said, it should come as no surprise at all when Vladimir Masters had the oh so brilliant idea to move the dangerous creature in the basement up four flights of stairs to one of the several extra bedrooms. He knelt down to take the rag doll like figure into his arms roughly. Standing up, Vlad hoisted the extremely light Scaeth up into a bridal style carry, and started up the silent stairs that seemed to have absolutely no squeaks. (And no, contrary to popular opinion he, the insanely rich billionaire did not even have a simple stretcher to transport the Demon.)
As he clambered up the staircase to the first floor, the billionaire couldn't help but examine the exhausted hooded form in his arms.
A dramatic cloak flowed seamlessly over what must have been a skinny figure going by the lack of weight that the creature in his arms had. The tough silk like material ended just past Scaeth's knee caps, flaring slightly as it stopped only to leave what looked like black jeans and stark black converse. His arms were covered with the cloak's long sleeves, although they revealed slight muscles underneath. Scaeth's hands were the only pieces of flesh uncovered. They were more scarred and paler than any human or halfa's hands he had ever seen, (in fact they were borderline translucent) however, they were not the common green tinge that all ghosts held. If anything, they had a blue imbedded in the pigment. But his face… Still shrouded in the hood he had clung to like a nervous child with only a few strands of ebony hair flowing out, Vlad could see nothing but a thick band around his neck emblazed with a scarlet, blood red "A" that looked to be painted over a carved "GT" in the metal.
Shaking his head contemplatively, Vlad nudged the door of a spare bedroom open with his shoulder into the navy blue room with a black king sized bed completed with black furniture. The gray haired man set the unconscious form on the black comforter.
His eyes drifted back to that infernal black hood. His finger tips grazed the slightly frayed brim of the silk, smirking slightly. Scaeth would never know that he had lifted his hood… He slowly raised the brim of the hood until it was over Scaeth's rustled black hair.
Blinking in surprise, the billionaire gazed at the pallid countenance of the youth in front of him-
"I believe I told you not to touch that, Vladimir."
Vlad jumped back at the wry tone, holding a gasp between his teeth as he saw the closed eyes of the Demon of Shadows open to reveal shockingly blue eyes that glowed even more than Daniel's had. He hadn't realized he had woken up…
Rolling past the mortification of being caught Vlad echoed back, "Hello, my good fellow! Had a pleasant nap?"
It was captivating seeing the youth's expression. His face was young, really young compared to what Vlad pictured… The softly crafted slightly discolored skin looked like it had been stretched to fit the child's bone structure as a molder pulls elastic latex over a sculpture. The powerful being he had seen earlier didn't seem to add up to this youthful teenage face, except for the scars that littered his countenance. In each line of white body tissue that streaked across the young one's face, Vlad saw less of a child and more of a tortured soul. The largest scar was down his left eye and onto his cheek, leaving the remnants of a sealed gash on his crystalline iris, it looked to be extremely old and very well healed. Then, there were the bruises. Marring Scaeth's right cheekbone and lower jaw were newly made purple globs of broken blood cells struggling to repair the weak body. They in the shape of knuckles and the myriad of bruises continued down to below the neckline of the cloak, standing out in stark contrast against the all too paled blue tinged flesh.
Scaeth looked at him, ignoring his question with a raised eyebrow now as Vlad continued to take note of his facial features, as if the billionaire was supposed to be realizing something extremely important. However, after a few minutes the teen just shook his head with a slight smirk on his face, and he was all but bursting at the seams with his irony filled laughter.
The billionaire's furrowed and he felt somewhat lost as he pondered aloud, "Is there something wrong?"
The smirk on the Demon's face just grew. He murmured with his guttural, hurt vocal chords, "No, Vladimir. Just found something extremely funny. Don't worry about it."
Vlad nodded, shaking off the urge to argue to force himself to be polite. He sat on the edge of the bed for awhile, looking casually around the room in an attempt to get Scaeth to start the conversation. To his surprise it worked.
With a choppy, hoarse voice the shadowy youth rasped out, "All right, you have questions." Sighing in resignation, Scaeth bit his lip. "Ask them before your jumping around the awkward silence makes you break something."
Letting out a small chuckle at the convict's blunt display, Vlad studied his mind. What question to ask? He didn't want to offend him or give him reason to be angry. (But frankly he was still astonished that Scaeth had let him take off his hood without trying to reduce him to a puddle of goo. Trying, there being the key word.)
Finally deciding on something mundane the halfa asked with a polite smile on his face, "How old are you?"
An immediate answer was thrown carelessly back at Vlad. "I will be three hundred and seventeen years old on my next birthday."
Now that had thrown him for a moment, but as he thought about it… Spirits do live an awfully long time.
"Kidding, oh so intelligent one." Rolling his diamond, ice shard like eyes, Scaeth smirked and all knowing smirk that made the tender scars distort on the child's face. Vlad wasn't so sure if it was the grotesque scars or just the other worldly vibe the smirk gave off that made involuntary chills crawl up his spine. Continuing, the Demon said like he was calmly discussing the weather, "I'm eighteen."
Eighteen? Perhaps that was the age in which he died, but there was no way that the Demon in front of him was eighteen years old. There were too many scars, too much seriousness, and too much maturity.
He needed clarification… "No, I mean your actual age if you kept counting past time of death."
A blunt response and a raised eyebrow proceeded. "Seriously, I'm eighteen."
Gaping slightly, Vlad just stared at Scaeth's worn features that kept an almost sinisterly regal appearance, nodding his head. Eighteen? He supposed he could see it past the scarring; however, he had to look awhile to get past those maims. And he did most certainly not shiver in horror as he tried to picture the event that may have caused those gashes to the child.
The clearing of a throat sent him back to the conversation he had been holding as he looked at Scaeth who gestured for him to continue questioning him. Actually, it was more of a resigned 'ask whatever the heck you want because I don't care' look.
However, that is beside the point.
Suddenly slightly confidant, Vlad asked a slightly more personal question although it still did not have much rooted in the child's past (or so he hoped), "What exactly is around your neck? I gathered that it is some type of shock collar-"
And suddenly every expression of humor vanished from the Demon of Shadows' face as he seemed even more pallid. Answering the question with a flat tone of apathy with a hint of disdain he ground out with his sore vocal chords, "Ancient Guard grade shock collar that is lovingly referred to as Ol' Blister, but was formally known as the Ghoster Toaster. It was originally invented by Madeline and Jack F-fenton." The end of his speech was taken with a tone of sheer malice and a biting bitterness that seemed to span farther than the simple invention. Although, the billionaire did shirk back unconsciously from the raw anger pulsing from the teenager in front of him.
"How do you know Madeline invented it?" This was simply out of curiosity. Did Scaeth have his own set of spies inside the Fenton residence as well? Vlad could barely hold back a grin as he imagined Daniel's face if the young hybrid would ever discover how many ghosts were keeping tabs on his family.
However, the dry reply that was returned with an eye roll was, "Ghoster Toaster. It doesn't get more Fenton than that."
Surprisingly enjoying the conversation now, the corners of his skinny lips curled up as Vlad humorously said, "Very true… The names are a bit lacking… Then again, I suppose Jack is responsible for that particular issue."
Suddenly, Scaeth seemed very uncomfortable with the conversation and Vlad could have sworn he saw one of the teen's eyelids twitch. Wringing his hands again, frosty orbs full of almost completely masked uncertainty looked at the billionaire as he murmured hoarsely, "I'll give you one more question."
The change of mood startled the hybrid a bit, but Vlad –always the strategist- was deep in thought. He needed to ask a more personal question, however, he couldn't go overboard with a emotional spinning question. It could potentially ruin his little relationship with the convict.
Making his decision, the elder hybrid looked into the never ending crystal void that was Scaeth's eyes and asked, "What is your role in the Ghost Zone?"
Silence.
Vlad saw an uncontrolled violent tremor strike the Demon of Shadows, the child's pale fingers trembling. Scaeth took a shaking breath as he pulled his silken shield of a hood above his head to mask his countenance yet again.
Not expecting an answer as the teenager drew into himself, the billionaire turned from the teenager to walk out of the room before he heard a clear, albeit hoarse, voice ring softly throughout the cavernous room.
"I protected them. I tried."
Bewildered, Vlad spun back to Scaeth and immediately called back softly, "They are ghosts. They don't need protection."
"Everyone deserves to have someone protect them, Vlad."
Silence again deafened him.
The elder half ghost just nodded his head in full concentration as he looked at the child with questioning eyes and he knew.
He was missing something, something drastically important if anything could be judged by the longing in that sentiment.
The child was an extremely morally rooted eighteen year old, he was convicted by Ancients, has most likely a few allies in the Ghost Zone, is capable of immense power surges, eccentric body functions like the odd 'pulse' of cold without the familiar 'lub dub' of a heartbeat, and…. What was he missing?
Resting his hand thoughtfully on his chin, Vlad just stared at his new hooded specimen with an intensity that couldn't be rivaled even by the Head Ancient. Furrowed eyebrows met as the billionaire's train of thought continued on a track, completely unaware of the extremely uncomfortable Scaeth that was wringing his hands on the other side of his probing eyes.
What am I not seeing? The elder man screamed mentally, Something about this Scaeth is so familiar... I know what it is that I am thinking of, but I just cannot put my finger on it-
Oh. Oh. Oh!
A devilish smirk spread across Vladimir Master's features when he felt his light bulb moment erupt. And he let out an involuntary chuckle.
He had never expected this.
Hehehehe... Yeah, I totally left it there.
Sorry. :D
Oh, and now I suppose that Vladdie isn't so clueless now, or is he?
I don't know, what do you guys think? Did you like it, hate it, love it? Was it a good cliff hanger? What did you guys think of the characters?
I really appreciate your opinions and feel free to guess where this story is going plot wise. It's really fun to see where people think I'm leading them.
Thank you all so much for reading!
kirby
