Jazz Fenton sped down the road that led into Amity Park in her rundown car. She swore that at the speed she was going the car would be stripped of its rusted parts by the time she actually arrived, that was, if she actually arrived without having an accident and killing herself. She felt the car's inner workings quiver uncertainly, heard the nuts and bolts bounce and jingle merrily as they intermingled. As she sped around icy bends of road or stopped her car at a light, she became certain she would die. She would get into an accident on these frozen streets, or the car would completely give up and fall apart in the middle of the road, and that would be the end of her, because God knew she wouldn't be able to regain whatever control she had in this car if she were to lose it. But she never slowed down once, because she was not concerned about her health. She was only concerned about Danny.

Of course she knew that whatever was going on had something to do with ghosts. Whenever she found herself in the middle of an argument between Danny and their parents about his slipping grades and the calls they received regularly that he'd skipped out of final period again, arguments caused simply because Danny couldn't afford to keep his grades up or make it to school, she found herself realizing that if it were not for the constant distraction of these ghosts Danny might be as studious as her, because he was smart, and he could apply himself if he was given the time. But that wasn't the full extent of the trouble these ghosts got him into, because, truthfully, she found herself feeling thankful when an argument between Danny and her parents was all that he had to deal with in a day. Now that Danny had started to accept her help more after the whole incident with Vlad and the Ecto suit, she found her phone constantly ringing with his or Tucker's or Sam's ambiguous pleas for help when they were engaged in battle with one of the ghosts. And while they always managed to pull through, how many times had they almost managed to get themselves killed fighting off ghosts? How many times had she had to speed to an alleyway or to the mall or the like after receiving this call with the impending fear that the ghost her brother was fighting was not merely the Box Ghost or Klemper but rather someone like Vlad Plasmius, someone serious?

And serious Vlad was. When his mind was set on something, when he had a purpose, a goal, nothing, no matter how cumbersome or tenacious, got in his way. However, unfortunately for her own safety and peace of mind, her little brother had seemed to make a habit of thwarting Vlad's plans, and when her phone tolled endlessly she thought what she always did: Vlad found him and defeated him, he took him away and is going to do God knows what with him and Tucker and Sam are calling to ask my help to find him and bring him back. But the truth was that the idea that it might be Vlad Danny fought rather than someone like Johnny 13 or Spectra brought such relief because she held the knowledge that Vlad, unlike any other ghost, would not kill Danny. Unlike Johnny 13 or Spectra, who wanted nothing more than to see Danny dead and out of the picture, Vlad's ultimate goal was much more humane but much more pathetic, she'd thought when Danny told her about the incident with this clone Vlad had created of him—he wanted Danny as his perfect half-ghost son. And while he might need to hurt Danny, he would never be able to kill him if he were to accomplish this. And this brought such peace to her on the occasions when she was able to attain that it was, in fact, Vlad inflicting the damage because she knew her little brother wouldn't be becoming a full ghost anytime soon.

However, she was never certain who exactly it was her brother and her—more or less—forced friends were battling, and she could never be completely at peace. Driving to the places where these battles went down she looked as she did now. Her turquoise-colored eyes wide and fearful, her body tense and rigid, convulsing in sporadic waves, because she never knew, just as she didn't know now.

She had reached Amity Park driving in this fashion, which she was thankful for because she thought that if she had to spend another moment in anticipation she was going to scream, cry, throw up, or perhaps a combination of all three. She was also in complete shock that she had managed the drive without killing herself, especially because she had not been paying attention to the road or to her own driving whatsoever, for she was lost in thought about her brother, hoping—and it felt so odd—that it was Vlad he fought, praying for him, even though she was not religious and strongly supported Darwin's theory of evolution. But perhaps that had been why she had not killed herself—not focusing on the drive—because she had found oddly enough that when she did not pay attention to what she was supposed to be doing she did it twice as well.

She drove more slowly now as she entered the town, which was completely silent and still in the dead of the night. She passed under the glowing lamplights that lined the street—what was typically considered to be their main street—on each side as she headed to Fenton Works. A little ways past this area of the town there was a wooded area that surrounded a treeless patch of land on which was a park, which she had to pass in order to get to Fenton Works. As she drove past this rural part of the town, it was dark enough that she could only clearly make out what appeared directly in her headlights. Then, like a cheap scare out of some horror movie, a small, lanky figure darted in front of her car and stood there, the literal representation of the clichéd term "a deer in the headlights." Jazz screeched and slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the figure, who she just narrowly missed. She lurched forward, realizing that the last time she'd had the car inspected she'd learned the airbags did not work, but she was miraculously not hurt, like her car which sat in the middle of the road, idle but intact. She sat, unmoving, in the car, shaking, her eyes wide with fear. Then, someone began to pound with their fists on the outside of the passenger door.

"Hey, let me in! Quick! He's coming for me!" came the panicked voice from outside, a high voice, a young voice.

"Who are you?" Jazz asked, her voice equally as frantic and unstable.

"Please, just let me in! I'm going to be killed!"

Jazz reached over and pushed the unlock button and pulled back quickly and nervously. The door opened suddenly and a small girl wearing an oversized blue sweatshirt, red shorts, a red hat, and scuffed tennis shoes spilled in. She gripped the door handle tightly and slammed the door shut behind her hastily. Her black hair hung in front of her widened eyes, and from beneath those locks of hair a steady stream of blood trickled down her face from her forehead. Her clothes were soaked in blood, specifically around her stomach area, and her face was scraped and black and blue with bruises. She stole a glance at Jazz, then turned in the direction of the park, then back at Jazz again.

"Please! We've got to get out of here!"

"Who are you? What happened to you?" Jazz cried in horror.

"Vlad's going to kill me! Please! He's coming! I see him!" she cried, and pointed out the window on the driver's side.

Jazz looked out the window and saw Vlad Plasmius charging toward the car, his face twisted in rage, a blast of pink energy charged in both his palms, screaming, "Get back here, you little bitch!"

Jazz turned back toward the road and slammed down on the gas pedal.

A/N:

I hate cheap scares! Me and my girlfriend saw this movie a few days ago called The Woman in Black and that was all it god damn was! A bunch of cheap scares!

Danny: Yeah, I'm way scarier than that sh*t!

Me: I know you are, baby, let's make out.

Danny: No, the only goth girl I'd do that with is Sam.

Me: Fuck you.

Danny: No, like I just said, I'd only do that with Sam.

Me: -_-

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you enjoy this story because I'm going to be updating this twice a week now, and I hope you appreciate me for this because I have school tomorrow and I'm going to be tired now.

Kiss my ass (just kidding, seriously)

~VC