Chapter Ten
Checkmate
In hindsight, it probably hadn't been the best idea for Phantom to disregard the blue mist escaping his lips earlier as the result of his forced transformation from human to ghost. How stupid could he be? Especially after having lived through four years of being both ghost and human, he should have known the mist had always been his body's subconscious way of warning him of imminent danger. Nothing else.
He saw Sam's eyes move from him to something behind him and heard a voice call out mockingly, "Aren't you going to say hello?"
He turned just in time to see a ball of ethereal fire heading towards him. He spun around quickly, throwing out his arms. Sam's horrified face filled his entire field of vision. The ghost ray slammed into his back, hurling him forward into Sam. He crashed to the ground with her held tightly in his arms. Her head hit the doorframe of the bathroom with a loud, painful thud that reverberated throughout his skull a million times over. Her scream filled the air around him.
Phantom clutched Sam to him and glared up at the unidentified ghost, gritting his teeth through the pain. "Who are you?"
"You don't recognize me?" the ghost hissed, voice dripping with conceit. "You really are as weak and as dumb as I was told!" His boisterous cackle echoed in the room. "Clockwork was wrong when he told me to be cautious!"
Phantom's lips curled up in a snarl. Clockwork again. What exactly was the ghost doing, playing with him like this and meddling in his affairs? Phantom stood and released Sam, shoving her back into the bathroom and closing the door on her. The stranger and Phantom had their eyes locked on to one another's—one a bright, piercing blue and the other a glowing emerald green. Phantom held on to the doorknob of the bathroom, felt Sam struggling to open it, and—forcing himself to push all thoughts of her aside for a moment—let energy flow from his palm and melt the knob so she couldn't escape.
"Are you ready to fight fair now?" Phantom sneered.
The other ghost smirked and opened his mouth to reveal a set of sharp teeth. Before he could say anything, Phantom hurled an energy-laced fist through the air and punched him square in the jaw. Green bursts of energy erupted from the collision, leaving a nasty reddish-purple welt in its wake.
Phantom watched smugly as the unidentified ghost fell back, writhing in pain, green ectoplasm dribbling down his chin. His bluish-green chin, much like the color of a familiar ghost's skin. Phantom stomped his foot onto the ghost's neck mercilessly. "I'll ask once more. Who are you?" Phantom growled.
"Who do I look like?" the ghost spat, smirking despite his current position on the floor. He held his hand over his jaw and took a deep breath.
Phantom growled again and looked over the body. Long black hair, blue eyes, bulky arms, blue-green skin. The only person he could think of was Plasmius, aka Vlad Masters, the half-ghost mayor of Amity Park. But this wasn't Vlad, and Vlad didn't have a son. Phantom's curiosity overpowered his anger for a brief moment. He glanced down at the insignia on the side of the ghost's white hazmat suit. The Roman numeral for seven was hidden underneath a mess of thorns and vines. A flaming knife cut through the entire emblem. It was definitely flashy enough to belong to Vlad. He clenched his teeth and glared down at the blue eyes. "Who are you?" Phantom snarled.
"I'm smarter than you apparently," the ghost cackled, grabbing hold of Phantom's ankle. "But you can call me Sev." He put his other hand underneath Phantom's knee and, with a devilish smirk, hurled Phantom over top of him and sent him flying through the air.
Phantom collided into the wall, slamming his already wounded back into it, and let out a bloodcurdling scream. He dropped to the floor, heaving and shaking. He tasted ectoplasm. He spit it out and wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. His eyes steadily became unfocused as pain shot through him. His back was being burnt to a crisp, being stabbed repeatedly by jagged-edged swords. That's how bad it felt. He could barely breathe. It was hell just trying to get back up on his feet.
"Sev," he rasped out, cringing. "You're not supposed to be here. This is my domain."
The hulking ghost merely laughed, dusting himself off. "Says who?"
Phantom opened his palms. A sphere of ecto-energy hovered in one, growing larger and larger with his every breath. Diamond shards of ice were held in the other, their sharp edges glistening dangerously. "Says me," Phantom hissed. He threw out the ice shards with a loud, animalistic cry.
Sev yawned behind his hand. As the shards drew near, his body split apart, connected only by a thin trail of spectral vapor. His upper half lifted all the way to ceiling while his lower half remained standing on the floor. The shards flew across the room and shattered on the opposite wall. "Is all you got? This will be boring," Sev taunted. He dodged the sphere of ecto-energy heading for his face and laughed again. "Predictable." From his position at the ceiling, he outstretched his arm and flicked his fingers. Hundreds of shards of ice materialized into the air, faster and more deadly than Phantom's.
Phantom leapt to the side, avoiding the majority of the shards, but a few managed to slice across the skin of his legs. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He'd been under the impression that he was one of the rare few ghosts able to use cryokinetic abilities like manipulating ice. That was how Frostbite from the Realm of the Far Frozen had made it sound. So who exactly was this ghost?
"You're not doing so well, are you?" Sev murmured, suddenly appearing by Phantom's side. Phantom swung out his fist, but the other ghost ducked and launched an ecto-energy disk at his torso.
Muttering a curse, Phantom spread his hands out in front of him and wrapped his fingers around the disk as it slashed his palms, turning it to ice. He hurled it at Sev's face, forcing the ghost to weave to the side and giving Phantom a clear shot with an ice beam. The ice encased Sev's feet, locking him in place. Before he got a chance to release himself, Phantom—gathering a massive amount of ecto-energy around his hands and arms—jumped up and slammed both of his fists down, aiming right for Sev's wide-eyed, open-mouthed face.
There was an explosion of light. Then silence for one sickening moment. Then laughter reverberated throughout the room, growing louder and louder.
Phantom narrowed his eyes, glaring down at the wildly grinning ghost.
"You're really not doing well," the ghost said, ridiculing Phantom as if he were powerless and frail. As if everything he'd done up to now had been a fluke. As if no one had any reason to fear and steer clear of what belonged to him. "Should I give you a handicap?"
Something audibly snapped in his mind. Maybe it was the thought of Sam trapped in the bathroom, or Tucker wandering somewhere below. Maybe it was the thought that despite all his experience and struggles and triumphs and loss, he was still that scrawny little fourteen-year old boy pretending to be something he wasn't. Maybe it was the thought that the house his parents had so painstakingly cared for was being desecrated by this lowlife oaf, their most hated enemy. Maybe it was the thought that Sev reminded him of himself in some convoluted way. But something snapped.
Something snapped.
Sev escaped from the ice holding him down and drifted up to the ceiling. He unleashed a barrage of green ethereal flames from his palms that rained down, striking every inch of the room.
Phantom stood with his head down, eyes raised to stare blankly at the ghost above him. He lifted his arm, creating an energy shield that did little more than protect his face. The fire pelted his shoulders, his back, his legs as he simply stood there, motionless.
Sev's confidence physically wavered. The fiery assault slowed and his expression was one of confusion mixed with rage. "Giving up so soon?" he shouted. "Your precious little human girl will be so pleased!"
A ring of energy burst to life around Phantom's feet, releasing a shockwave of air that extinguished the flames in the room and threw Sev back against the ceiling. Still, he didn't move and he didn't say a word.
The other ghost growled, unsettled by Phantom's behavior. "Not in the mood for talk?" he said, clenching his hands into fists, collecting energy in his hands as Phantom had done before. "Fine. I'll just have to take her away from you!" he roared, eyes blazing, energy gathering around his body like cloak. He rocketed down towards Phantom, beams flying out of his eyes that struck Phantom's shield arm.
Phantom lifted his head, his wrathful eyes opened wide, his teeth bared in a demented grin. The ring of energy around his feet coiled upwards like a group of serpents and lashed out at the oncoming ghost. Sev twisted around the tentacles, turning one to ice, blocking one with his arm, never slowing in his approach.
Quick as lightning, Phantom teleported just above the other ghost and, with a vicious heel kick to the spine, sent him plummeting to the floor straight through the coils of energy. Sev grunted in pain, raising his arms to cover his face from the coils lashing out around him. Just before Sev hit the floor, Phantom teleported below him, grabbed his neck, and threw him against the wall.
A harsh choking sound erupted from Sev's throat. Ectoplasm spilt from his lips. He saw Phantom coming at him and crossed his arms in front of him, putting up a flimsy energy shield. Phantom reared back with his arm in the air and punched right through the shield. With energy sparking around them like fireworks, he punched right through Sev too.
The ghost gasped, made a retching sound, and stared down, terrified, at the arm that was passing through him. "Y-you…" He turned wide, incredulous eyes to Phantom and found no mercy. A ghastly scream ripped through him as he felt his insides solidify, felt his limps drop like weights, felt his eyes grow cold and his vision turn black. Ice climbed up his throat, silencing him forever.
Phantom stared blankly at the block of ice, then, putting his trembling arms out in front of him, shattered it into a million pieces.
Sev, whoever he was, was gone.
Phantom fell to his knees, clutching his arms and gasping. The pain he'd gone through such a tremendous effort to ignore returned with a cruel and savage vengeance. His back, his arms, his hands, his legs, everything was on fire. His vision blurred. Spasms ran through him and he coughed up ectoplasm. The world around him was spinning. But now wasn't the time to give in to fatigue. As much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep his injuries away, he didn't have that luxury.
Bracing his hand against the wall, he brought himself up to his feet, inch by agonizing inch. The bathroom door was in front of him, only a few feet away yet it could've been a mile. He gritted his teeth, took the first step, and hissed. This was going to be a lot more difficult than he had hoped. But he had to do it. He pressed both of his hands against the wall and took another step. Pausing, he breathed in and out through his nose, struggling to keep his gaze clear and focused. He took another step, then another. The cuts across his palms left a trail of ectoplasm behind him.
He had made it halfway to the door when he heard that voice taunt him.
"You look like you didn't do too well. Rough day?"
Phantom's eyes widened. His head snapped up toward the sound. He couldn't believe what he saw. "Sev?"
The ghost simply smiled. "You failed the test. You're going to suffer for that."
Phantom looked from him to the bathroom door. Suddenly everything made sense. "Sam," he gasped.
The ghost's smile widened. "Don't worry. You'll see her soon," he said, his blue eyes shifting to look at something in the hallway.
Phantom craned his neck back to see what it was that had got his attention. To say he was shocked or hurt or confounded by what he saw was an understatement. He was devastated. And there was nothing he could do to avoid what was coming.
Tucker stood by the door with a steely look in his eye and a frown on his face. The Fenton Thermos was in his hands, emitting a beam headed straight towards Phantom. A beam that enveloped him, dragged him away like a vacuum, and sealed him inside the tiny cylindrical container.
Tucker capped the thermos and stared at it in awe, knowing it held the most powerful ghost he'd ever seen. The city's most hated enemy. The source of everything he and Sam had just went through. It felt good, knowing he'd taken the ghost out of the picture. He looked up at the other ghost in front of him with a feeble smile on his face. Even if this particular ghost was on his side, he was still a bit apprehensive. "Well, I did what I was supposed to. Where's Danny and Sam?"
The ghost narrowed his eyes and laughed. "Are you that foolish, human? Did you think we'd let her go?"
Tucker felt like a weight had been dropped onto his shoulders. "W-what do you mean?" he stuttered, shoulders beginning to tremble. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. He'd made the right decision, hadn't he? He'd asked again and again and again to make sure this decision was the best one. This couldn't be happening. "That other ghost said—"
"She'd be safe. As long as Phantom cooperates. We never said she'd be reunited with you."
"W-what about Danny?"
The ghost just smiled again.
Tucker clutched the thermos tightly, glaring at him as furiously as he was able under these harrowing circumstances. "Then you're not getting this!" he shouted. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a futile effort. In the blink of an eye, the ghost teleported behind him, plucked the thermos from his grasp, and threw him to the floor amongst the shards of ice.
Tucker caught a glimpse of the ghost flying through the walls, leaving him all alone in the empty house.
Tucker balled his hands into fists, struggling to keep at bay the frustrated sobs lodged in his throat. His decision had been wrong after all. He'd made a terrible mistake.
He screamed at the top of his lungs.
The sound echoed throughout the room and did nothing more.
Sam's memory returned to her in flashes. Phantom suddenly appearing in the room, protecting her from the other ghost's attack, locking her in the bathroom. Then that same ghost appeared, the one she'd seen in the room, or at least someone who looked the same. He'd grabbed her, choking her, squeezing the life from her.
She was jolted awake, thrown back into the harsh reality patiently awaiting her return.
The harsh white light in the room made her eyes water. She tried to shield her face with her hands, but heard only the clink of metal. "What?" she gasped, looking up only to find her wrists chained to the wall. When she tried to take a step forward, she realized her ankles were chained as well.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, violently yanking against the chains so that her skin chafed. "Hey! Whoever you are! Let me out of here!" She didn't even know where she was. It looked like a laboratory, kind of like the one in the basement of Fenton Works. Were they planning on making her their next experiment or something? "Hey!" she shouted again. "What are you, a stalker? Or some perverted old man living out his ultimate fantasy? Show yourself! I'm not playing your game!"
A turquoise-skinned ghost appeared in front of her. He looked kind of like the one who'd kidnapped her, except his black hair was shorter and tied back at the neck and his eyes were red instead of blue. "You're annoying," he said bluntly, glaring at her.
She snorted. "Yeah, well, same here. Let me go!"
The ghost shook his head and turned away from her. There was an insignia on the side of his white hazmat suit, a bunch of thorns and a fiery dagger and the Roman numeral ten. He caught her staring and smiled haughtily, sharp teeth peeking out from between his lips. "Admiring the view, human?"
"If by admire you mean trying to use my psychic powers to make you spontaneously combust, then yes," she said dryly. "What do you even want with me? And who are you?"
"I'm Number Ten—"
"Well, that's original," she muttered.
His eyes narrowed. "But they just call me Ten. You're here as an incentive, to keep Phantom under control."
Now that was news to her. "What do you want with him?" And why would she be used as incentive? Phantom wouldn't risk putting himself in danger for a human. Especially not her. But then... Why did he protect her before? It was question she didn't really want to mull over at the moment, considering her predicament.
"You don't need to know," Ten said dismissively, turning away from her again. "Unless…" His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "You don't have feelings for him, do you?" he asked, mocking her.
Sam positively choked on air. "What?!" she shouted, insulted that anyone—even a crazy kidnapper ghost with possibly the stupidest name in the world—would ever suggest such a thing. "I would have to be insane to have feelings for that psychotic piece of trash!"
"Well, it sounds like you're on familiar terms with each other," he murmured slyly.
"If I ever see him, I'll kill him!" she yelled, yanking on the chains again. The metal rattled loudly, echoing in the large room.
Ten's eyes hardened. "Stop being a nuisance," he snapped.
"Then let me go!" she snarled.
Ten approached her, his hand raised as if to strike. She bared her teeth, growling at him, her eyes the epitome of rage and glowing with a violet fire. She fought against the chains, desperately trying to reach him so that she could throttle him herself. His lips turned up in a sneer and he slapped her.
"Humans," he muttered in disgust.
A wide red stain marred Sam's cheek. She turned her head towards him slowly, her eyes practically burning into his skull. "Yeah, I'm human," she said darkly and spit on his boot.
Ten's eyes took on a look like he was ready to kill, but laughter stopped him in his tracks.
"She's so charming, isn't she?" a voice said, quite obviously male and exceedingly arrogant. He came into view, hovering above the floor rather than walking. Sam saw two glittering red eyes staring down at her with black hair spiked atop his head like a Viking headpiece. It would've been comical had he not been a murderous ghost with sharp fangs holding her captive. He wasn't as muscular as Ten or the other ghost, but he definitely looked stronger than the rather sinewy Phantom. She gulped, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Her odds were getting worse by the minute. The ghost was illuminated by a faint light, much like Phantom had been for the brief second she'd seen him. His skin was a pasty bluish-green. She found it rather odd that every ghost she'd encountered had skin the color of turquoise, considering Phantom's had been a fair peach. But again, she'd only glimpsed him for a second.
The vampiric ghost leaned toward her, nostrils flaring, white cape brushing against her arms. With a short laugh, he moved away again and gestured for Ten to bring him a chair. He seated himself comfortably in front of her and locked his hands together in front of him. His gaze bore into her, as if searching for something. A flicker of confusion passed over his face. "That boy is an enigma sometimes," he mumbled, shaking his head. "While you're certainly different, your face doesn't leave much to be desired. So how is it that you managed to enthrall him?"
"Who are you talking about?" she asked impatiently.
"You'll see in a moment." The ghost in front of her shook his head again and idly tapped his gloved fingers on the armrest. "What is it, I wonder, that makes you so appealing to him?" He turned his smoldering gaze to hers. "Who are you really?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" she snapped.
He snorted, rubbing his temples as though he suffered a minor headache. "Is cynicism a charm of yours? I'm afraid it's not appealing to me. Though to him, it's a possibility." He lifted his lips in a smirk, sharp canine teeth ready to snap her in half. "I'm Plasmius. Pleasure to meet you…?"
"Sam," she grumbled.
He merely shrugged. "Not an attractive name either."
She raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. "How does being attractive have anything to do with this?"
Plasmius examined her, confusion once again flickering in his stare. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders, flyaway strands clinging to her lips. The baggy clothes she wore gave her scrawny form the illusion of voluptuousness. But it was her eyes—flaring to life in hues of rich lavender and mauve—that were her pièce de résistance. Now that he looked her over again, she wasn't completely mediocre in terms of her looks, her eyes attributing for much of it. But her tongue was quick and sharp. Surely it must've drove Phantom to the brink of madness. How could he tolerate it?
Plasmius sighed. "You don't quite understand, my dear. Attraction has everything to do with this."
"And what exactly is this in the first place? How do you expect me to keep Phantom under control or whatever it is that oaf over there said?" She gestured toward Ten, who narrowed his eyes at her. "You think I can control him with my dashing good looks or something? Think again!"
Plasmius just smiled, shaking his head again. "Just wait and see. Seven and Eight should be on their way here now."
"You have a real penchant for picking good names, you know," Sam muttered sarcastically. "Where are Numbers One through Six?"
"Oh, they were all failures," he said indifferently. "Seven was the first to show any real promise. Eight is almost his exact duplicate except the powers he received differed a bit. Nine is under observation since I believe he may be on the brink of imploding. And Ten is my best result by far."
Sam's eyes widened. She wasn't sure whether being horrified or awestruck was the appropriate response. She settled for a little of both. "Are you saying these guys are experiments? Clones?"
He didn't get a chance to answer her question. A thunderous roar tore through the laboratory, laced with pain and wrath. Plasmius and Ten moved instinctively at the sound, both flying out of the lab and leaving her shackled there to the wall.
"HEY!" she screamed after them, rattling her chains. The silence was her only reply. "Great," she muttered. "Just great. No, don't take me down from here. It's not like my arms are killing me or anything." She let out a frustrated groan. What was she even doing here? All this would never have happened if Phantom hadn't bombarded her mediocre life with his insanity. Was it all some kind of sick joke? The Fates were toying with her, scrutinizing her with withering, ancient eyes grown bored with the world. Was she supposed to reform the sadistic ghost as part of some pre-determined plan for redemption for her black soul?
Just what in the world was going on?
Phantom shot blast after blast at the Sev-lookalike, ignoring the pain that threatened to engulf him in unconsciousness, ignoring the sting of Tucker's unintended betrayal, ignoring everything except the thought of Sam being tortured in this place. His rage fueled his strength, so potent it was almost as if he hadn't just been engaged in a deadly battle minutes before. Being trapped inside the thermos had given him a few moments to prepare himself and gather the last reserves of his energy, as cramped in there as it was. As soon as he'd felt the familiar tug pulling him back out into the world, he'd started firing away.
No thoughts. No schemes. Just aim and fire.
He saw something move from the corner of his eye and shot at it blindly. Explosions sounded around him, filling the room with translucent clouds of smoke. Electricity crackled and sparked. The light bulbs shattered in a succession of deafening bangs, raining glass above their heads, leaving them in the eerie red glow of emergency backup lights.
He felt the sensation of blue mist leaving his mouth and whirled around, launching a wide beam of ecto-energy that sent the new assailants in a mad rush to the ceiling.
"Eight!" one of them screamed. Phantom followed the sound and let off another ghost ray. "Augh!" The ghost plunged through the air, a wounded bird. But only the strong survive. Phantom readied another shot.
"Do you want her to die, Daniel?!" an all too familiar voice yelled down at him, panicked and afraid.
Phantom would have laughed if not for the gravity of the situation. He lifted his head, forcing the full weight of his bloodthirsty gaze on Plasmius. In that single moment of hesitation, that single moment where he knew he held Sam's life in his hands, the other two ghosts assaulted him. One slammed his shoulder blades with a double-fisted swing, sending him tumbling through the air. The other released a whip-like energy blast that cut across his chest like a razor-sharp blade. Ecto-energy rings sliced his arms and legs. A ghost ray struck the gaping wound on his back.
His scream of agony filled the entire room.
With his vision fading in and out, he felt himself being dragged across the floor. Plasmius spoke quietly to the two ghosts, sounding much more commanding than he had before, when he'd feared Phantom would choose to disregard Sam's safety and send all of them on a path to hell.
To think Plasmius would stoop so low as to use Tucker against him and keep Sam hostage, as an incentive for the monster to behave. Whatever it was Plasmius wanted, it was something big, something that warranted putting his life on the line with no actual guarantee of success. Thinking that Phantom would choose to protect Sam over getting revenge was pure conjecture. The fact that he had been right meant nothing. Phantom was going to free Sam. And then he would destroy them all.
They brought him to a small white room. A metal cage sat in the corner on one side. Across from it were a computer console and a huge monitor built into the wall. He knew where this was going already. He was roughly tossed into the cage and Plasmius pressed a button, causing the bars to whir and glow with pink ecto-energy, effectively trapping him inside.
The monitor flickered to life, showing a clear image of Sam chained against a wall in another room. Her head was hanging down and her arms were limp, a picture of defeat. The other two ghosts entered the room she was in and stood in the corner, keeping an eye on her, as if she were somehow capable of escaping on her own. Phantom gritted his teeth, closing his eyes to the scene.
"I didn't give you permission to look away, did I?" Plasmius hissed.
All of a sudden, Sam's howls of pain crackled through the speakers.
Phantom's eyes snapped open and he propelled his body forward, gripping the metal bars tightly in his hands even as they sent electric shockwaves storming through his wounded body. "STOP IT!" he roared.
Plasmius's eyes grew wide and frightened, fixed on the blazing metal bars and the hands wrapped around them. Swiftly, without thinking, he flipped the switch on the remote control in his hand. "Now perhaps you'll listen to me for a change," he said, though there was no force behind his voice.
Phantom stared at him, eyes glinting dangerously, and slowly moved back into the center of the cage. Ectoplasm dripped from his quivering hands.
The sight of that brought back Plasmius's previous self-confidence. A sharp-toothed smile graced his features and he waved the remote in his hand, admiring it. "Now that I have you at my mercy, I suppose you're wondering what it is I want with you and your precocious little human pet."
Phantom didn't respond. His eyes were glued to the screen, watching Sam's labored breathing and the way she ferociously struggled against the shackles that kept her bound. Streaks of blood marred the white skin of her arms. Every drop of blood she lost, he would take one hundred times from the ghosts. Again and again and again until even their insubstantial existences were wiped from memory.
"A little distracted, Daniel?"
Emerald eyes flashed angrily. "A little overconfident, Vlad?" Phantom growled. "If Sev hadn't been aiming for Sam from the beginning, I wouldn't be here."
"Hmph. Speaking of Seven, where is he?" Plasmius muttered, crossing his arms.
Phantom smirked. "He took a break."
"What?"
"He won't be coming back," he mumbled, looking down at his tattered, blistered hands. Manipulating the icy core inside of him, Phantom let a cooling sensation wash over his body, easing the sting of his wounds. He let out a sigh and lifted his gaze to Plamius's again. "I'm curious. What is it you want this time that you'd put your life in my hands?"
Plasmius's red eyes narrowed threateningly. "Your life is in my hands actually," he said in a low voice. "And I plan to use it to my benefit. There's a price on your head, you know. In the Ghost Zone and in Amity Park."
"Tell me something I don't know," Phantom muttered, examining the slash across his chest and using the torn edges of his suit to wipe away any excess ectoplasm.
Plasmius knelt in front of the cage to be at his eye-level. "Even Pariah Dark himself wants your head mounted on a wall."
Phantom paused in his ministrations, staring blankly at the ground. Pariah Dark, the Ghost King? That behemoth was supposed to be locked up. He'd locked him up years ago after Vlad had stupidly tried to steal the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire to become the new king. He would understand begrudging him for locking him up in that sarcophagus again, but getting revenge would entail being released.
"You let him out?" he asked darkly, glaring up into those red eyes filled with derisive satisfaction.
Plasmius chuckled and shook his head. "He's still locked away. For now. But you're not understanding the most important part of this story. Phantom, the most powerful ghost in history. The one who strikes him off his pedestal will be the one to take his power. The one to take his throne. The one to become the Ghost King for ages and ages to come, until the end of time!"
His words were as ominous as they were baffling. Phantom knew he was one of the most powerful ghosts, but he had no throne. And he was no Ghost King. What was Vlad rambling on about, knocking him off an imaginary pedestal?
Plasmius sighed and stood up, brushing off his legs as if the very air around Phantom was something vile and filthy. "We'll have to patient. All good things come with time." He crossed the room and fiddled with the computer console, zooming in on Sam's expression and the hatred in her eyes. "That look is meant for you as much as it is for me," he jeered, throwing Phantom a taunting grin over his shoulder. He looked back to Sam and put his thumb under his chin thoughtfully. "The child surprises me though. She's either adept at hiding her fears or she has no knowledge of the word. And she's remarkably perceptive! She realized Seven and others were clones right away."
"Sev?" Phantom gasped.
Plasmius spun on his heel, white cape twirling around him, and grinned again. "You didn't realize that, did you? That the ghost you fought was a clone made from both your DNA and mine?"
The blue-green skin, the bright blue eyes, the black hair, the numbered insignia, the cryokinesis. He should've known. It had been clear as day and yet he'd completely missed it. He'd thought of nothing except keeping Sam out of harm and look where that had got him. "How many are there?" he asked.
"The first six were clones of solely your DNA. Five of them didn't survive incubation or testing. The sixth was an insufferable child with no respect for authority who eventually grew unstable. Seven you met, the first experimental fusion of our DNA. Eight is his identical brother of sorts, whom you also met. Nine appears to be growing unstable. And Ten is the one you nearly eradicated earlier."
"Then I only have two more to kill," Phantom whispered. His prospects were looking rather good.
Plasmius scowled and lifted the remote control in his hand. "Then you'll have to listen to the girl's screams for the rest of your miserable life," he said, finger hovering near the switch.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Phantom stared Plasmius down with a warning in his eyes, a silent threat that it would be better for all if Sam was left alone. In his peripheral vision, he saw Plasmius's finger, almost as if in slow motion, moving closer and closer to the switch. The fool wasn't going to yield to him, him of all people, the one who brought ancient spirits to their knees. A growl escaped Phantom's lips and he averted his gaze to pink glow entrapping him. If it weren't for the ecto-energy encased around the metal, he would've been free from this cage already and that feigned confidence of Vlad's would've been trampled into non-existence.
Plasmius sighed contentedly. Seeing Phantom stuck in such a hopeless predicament made him impossibly giddy. "I suppose I should leave you alone to lick your wounds, hmm?" he said, exaggeratingly cheerful. "It won't be long now before your life is ruined beyond recognition. Or, wait. Your life is already a mess, isn't it?" He laughed and stepped past the cage, making his way toward the exit. "It was all your own doing though," he added. "I only wish you'd given Maddie to me rather than send her off to that god-forsaken place with that god-forsaken buffoon. I might've spared you for that."
"I didn't do anything to your cat," Phantom retorted.
Plasmius whirled his head around and glared at him, teeth bared in a snarl. "You're in no position to be making quips at my expense. Enjoy these last few moments of solitude. Once I turn you in, I have no say in your fate anymore. That's all up to your enemies." He gestured to the monitor. "And say your goodbyes to your precious Sam. You won't be seeing her again either." He made as if the close the door, but Phantom stopped him.
"Before you go," Phantom said softly, his gaze lowered to his hands. "You should know that once I get out of here, our little unspoken truce is over." He raised his head, meeting the ghost's eyes. Seething emerald clashed against anxious red. "I'll hunt you down and make you suffer," Phantom hissed.
A shudder ran up Plasmius's spine. He shook his head roughly, dispelling any unpleasant thoughts from his mind, and closed the door.
Phantom sat hunched over, staring at the spot Plasmius had once occupied for a few seconds more, before promptly collapsing onto the floor of the metal cage and slipping into unconsciousness.
