A/N: This took longer than expected. But, hey, less than a year, right? If you've ever wondered what good constructive criticism is, I'd suggest you check out donteatacowman's review of my last chapter as that's a shining example. I've taken her advice and if anyone else wants to offer anything up, I'm all ears (but, please keep it succinct! I'm doing this for fun and don't want to read a college English teacher's critique). I've seriously considered upping this to M mainly due to some of the implications in last chapters. Any thoughts? Also, if you are an overly sensitive person (if you've read this far, then you probably aren't; I'm sticking a warning in my first chapter) you might not want to read too much further. The future looks kind of bleak for a character or two.
Hopefully this chapter will clear a few things up. By the end you should understand the cause of the curse, the person who did it and why, and the consequences of it. That crazy, creepy chick finally gets a name, haha! Basically this is really where things turn around for better or worse. Hopefully, I can finish this fanfic before the year's up (I thought that last year, too). I hope nobody is too confused at the end of this chapter or the next one.
Oh, somewhere, after a tiresome search, I finally found out that Sam's parents names were Pamela and Jeremy (Jeremiah?). But I suppose the wiki could be wrong-it was hard to find (please, just roll with it).
Thanks again to my anonymous reviewers and signed in reviewers. You guys rock!
-Ω-
Conversations were scarce during the ride home. Tucker and Sam were back on the bus early the next morning, both anxious to get to Danny and Jazz and both dreading the confrontation Sam was bound to have with her mother. Tucker was well-rested, having managed to get a good night's sleep, but Sam clearly must have spent the majority of the night awake, judging by the bags under her eyes.
She barely looked at Tucker as they boarded the bus. He was worried and she couldn't find any words to reassure her friend. Spending the night staring at the ceiling, wishing she could ascend one of the staircases in her room and simply disappear probably hadn't been the most productive use of her time. Every time she thought on how to deal with the situation she hit a wall. How could she broach this subject with her mother? How could she tell Jazz? And when it was over and the smoke cleared, how could she admit to Danny that simply knowing her had sent him into this dizzying spiral of insanity? The weight of it was crushing her, making her shoulders hunch, and skewing her thoughts. Guilt, fear, and disbelief overpowered any hope she might have had of everything working out okay. She sighed heavily and leaned up against the window, wishing she were in another person's shoes right now.
Tucker twiddled with this fingers the whole ride and caught short snatches of sleep despite being well-rested. He simply didn't know how to offer any comfort to his obviously distraught friend. He still wasn't entirely sure what their next plan of action should be once they arrived at Amity Park; they could either go straight to the motel and check for any signs of Jazz or Danny or straight to Sam's and ask her mother about the curse. Sam still hadn't been able to reach Jazz and Tucker was growing steadily concerned. It was unusual for her not to answer their calls, especially these last few days. Then again, she was tired and maybe she had just forgotten to charge her phone? Tucker tried not to think of the other things that might have happened, namely being that the authorities had chased them down. If that were the case, he reasoned with himself, it would surely be on the news. After coming to that conclusion, he determined that in this situation no news was probably good news.
In the end, the two had a very brief discussion shortly before arriving back home. Sam hadn't sounded a thing like her usual self, unable to conceal her guilt and depression. Tucker had sounded much more serious than Sam could ever remember hearing him. They had decided their immediate action would be to approach Mrs. Manson about the curse, since this was the root cause of all their current problems. If she were responsible, which Sam seemed sure of, then maybe she could lift it and perhaps she was capable of memory wipes as well? Tucker hoped this was true, but Sam was dubious and warned him not to get his hopes too high.
Tucker insisted they eat lunch before heading to her house, having grown increasingly concerned over the amount of weight his friend had lost in such a short span of time. He knew she was stressed, but it still didn't mean it was okay to neglect daily habits one needed to survive. After having eaten, the pair found themselves standing before Sam's house, both staring at the door with uncertainty and fear. Tucker glanced over at his friend, feeling terrible at the trepidation she was radiating. "Maybe I should come in with you?" he offered. After a couple moments of consideration, she slowly shook her head.
"No, Tuck," she whispered in a soft but firm tone, "I just-let me go in and ask. It's going to be awkward enough without having anyone else there."
"But," Tucker tried to protest. He didn't like this at all, but Sam held up her hand to cut him off.
"Just trust me," she insisted. "I promise I will come out as soon as I get my answer. At least give me twenty minutes, then you can ring the doorbell or knock if you start to feel uncomfortable."
"I don't know if this is safe. I mean, what if she can curse you?"
"She's my mother, Tucker. She's not going to."
"I bet her sister thought the same thing," Tucker muttered as he slumped against a step, showing his reluctant concession. Without another word, she determinedly strode into her house.
Her mother in the living room, done up in bright colors as usual, the TV flickering before her. Her father sat with her, also watching the news intently. Sam approached quietly. Neither seemed to hear her until she timidly spoke up, "Mom?" She hoped her voice would be stronger during the rest of this dreaded conversation.
Both heads snapped over to her, her mother pursing her lips before carefully regarding her daughter as if trying to judge how much Sam knew and how far she was going to go with it.
"You're back," her mother stated simply, her tone neutral, all the usual cheer in it completely gone.
"I hear you were in New Salem?" Mr. Manson asked, eyeing Sam critically. "What brought that visit about?"
"I-I went with Tucker, we thought his cousin knew something about..." she trailed off, uncomfortably. Maybe she shouldn't be cluing her father into any of this. "Uh, can Mom and I talk alone?"
Mr. Manson shook his head slowly. "No, I think we both already know what you're going to ask."
Sam was astonished. Her father was in on it, too? "You do?" she asked. Shocked overwhelmed her feelings of dread and she felt the guard she had carefully constructed to deal with her mother come crashing down around her. That shock could be so powerful hadn't occurred to same and later she would wonder if her parents had known its power and planned accordingly.
Her mother nodded. "Let her ask, Jeremy," she instructed her husband.
"Um, well," Sam stuttered hesitantly, trying to figure out the best way to ask the question she so desperately need to, yet had no desire to actually hear the answer. "Well, see we thought Tucker's cousin, Etta, might have cursed someone because, well, Danny has been acting strangely and we called some exorcists and they said..." she trailed off, belatedly realizing she had probably given away too much information if they hadn't cursed anyone. Now I sound crazy. Like some kind of occultist.
Jeremy's eyes narrowed. "That's why Daniel's missing then, is it? And his sister as well?"
She nodded mutely. Unnerved, she tried not to let her disappointment show through. It had been silly, but she had really hoped Etta had simply been misinformed. Her parents were quickly crushing that little last bit of hope she had been so stubbornly clinging to. Her mouth felt dry and she wasn't sure how much more she'd be able to say.
"What did Etta say?" Pamela prodded her.
"That if I was looking for people who'd cursed others I should start with you," Sam admitted quietly. She had to work to get the words out of her and to keep her voice even.
Heavy silence hung in the air for several long moments before her mother spoke. "His name was Ezekial. He was in love with my sister, Carolyn."
"But-!" Sam started to protest, but her mother held up a hand.
"Please wait until I'm finished before you ask any questions." After a couple moments, Sam nodded and Mrs. Manson continued her story, "My sister didn't even notice him, but I did. He was in the grade between us so we all saw each other at school often. At first, it was just a game to me. Since he liked my sister so much, I wanted to see if I could make him like me that much, but at some point, I fell in love with him and really wanted that feeling returned. For a long time, I thought I had been successful. We dated, went to dances, we were a couple. I had been so happy. Even my sister was happy for us." She paused and took a deep, calming breath. Her next words were spoken harshly. "But I had been wrong. One day, I overheard him speaking with my sister. He was professing his love for her and saying how he had just been with me to get closer to her and try to win her over and how he would never stop loving her and would do anything for her and-" she cut herself off and took another breath, "You get the point. Instead of calling him out there, I simply stewed and steamed over it." She stopped again, her a far-off look in her eyes as she recounted the past.
Her husband leaned closer and gently squeezed her hand. "Pamela, do you want me to finish it for you?"
After a moment, she shook her head. "No, I'm okay," she assured him before going on, "I grew to hate him. He still acted like he was in love with me. Then I began to hate my sister. I blamed her for it all. I thought that if it weren't for her, then he would be all mine. I couldn't get over it and I couldn't let it go. I wanted to find a way to get back at her, to him only see me instead of only my sister." She looked down and her next words were heavy with regret, "But, I didn't realize what I was getting into until it was too late. I didn't mean to take it so far."
I had a friend who was really into occults so I went to them and asked for advice. She told me about curses and even showed me how to cast them. I was so shocked that anything like that could actually work. In all honesty, I had my doubts, but I still tried, anyway. I searched for a curse that would make someone appear unattractive to all those around them. I found one. It was a higher level curse, but I wasn't familiar with the levels at the time. I simply worked until I was able to cast it.
I had really only meant for her to become terribly unattractive to Ezekial. The curse did its job to well. It made her unattractive and undesirable. She began acting mad and spouting off nonsense to our classmates and friends. Then she started to chase the elementary students, claiming they were aliens in disguise. Things became serious when she began to literally start attacking our classmates with pencils and running after a teacher with a pair of scissors. She didn't remember who she was or who her family was. She always thought she was somewhere else and always insisted everyone was out to get her or was lying to her. It was like she was in her own world and no one could break through."
Mrs. Manson let out another sigh. "Of course, she really wasn't all that attractive anymore. I guess the curse worked on a more shallow level than I imagined because Ezekial spent all his time trying to fix her. It was pointless, though. Nothing he said could get through and some people even suspected he had caused it since she had always acted normal before he had become involved in our lives."
Sam was completely speechless. "So-wait...I-I-you cursed your own sister over some guy she didn't even like?"
Jeremy had a comforting arm around his wife and shot his daughter a stern glare. "We all do things we're not proud of, Sam. I'm sure you can relate on some level." To say she was taken aback would be a gross understatement. Apparently, her father knew all about this ugly skeleton tucked away in her mother's closet. Anger suddenly colored her vision. He knew, but they had thought it best to keep it from her?
"So, what have you done that I need to know about?" she snapped at her father, returning his glare with one that could melt ice.
"It is something I really regret. My jealousy and bitterness just consumed me. I was young and gullible. I would change it if I could go back." Her mother sounded truly sincere.
"But you can't, can you?" Sam cried, tears springing into her eyes. "Now my friend is having to suffer just because he knows me. Just because some guy you were jealous over."
Pamela pursed her lips again, carefully considering her next words. "It wasn't just some guy, Sam. I truly felt love for him. It wasn't as if we didn't do anything. I had good reason to be so upset. I went too far, I admit. I shouldn't have involved my sister, but you always see clearer in hindsight. I only became aware of what all problems casting that curse could bring after the fact. My friend and I researched it and soon found out that we couldn't heal Carolyn. Then we learned that she could become a vengeful spirit after death. I knew she would. It had driven her mad and she screamed threats at me after our mother had her committed to an Institution." She paused before allowing a small smile. "Honestly, I'm a little relieved. I thought for sure she would use you for all of this."
Sam's eyes widened in horror and revulsion at the statement. "She is using me! She's getting back at you through my friend! Through Danny!" Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was weak, "Can't you stop it?"
Pamela averted her eyes, shame heating her cheeks. "No, I can't."
Sam refused to belief it, not wanting to accept the finality of it all. "You can't or you wont?" she demanded. There had to be a way. There had to be. "How can I believe anything you say? Are you just going to place a curse on me when things don't go your way?"
All shame vanished from her mother's face and she jumped off the couch, voice rising with raw emotion. "How dare you say that to me!" Her words shook with insult and anger. "I am your mother. You have no right to speak to me like this. You have no idea what it's like to- to-" she cut herself off, angry tears rolling down her cheeks.
"To what?" Sam loudly demanded, knowing she was crossing the line, but not caring in the least. "To what? To curse a sister? Of course I don't know, you never-" Sam stopped short, realization dawning on her. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she appeared to be talking more to herself. "That's why I don't have any siblings. You were afraid we might curse each other." Sam shook her head before looking back to her parents, seeing them through new eyes. "I can't believe this!"
"I'm sorry, Samantha," her dad's face was full of sincerity and his voice held nothing but pity. "We never wanted any of this and your mother had no idea."
"Yes, she did!" Sam hollered, pointing an accusing finger at her mother. "She knew that her sister was coming and she already admitted she feared the revenge would be through me! What? You thought I should never know? Or if you ignored it, it would just go away?"
"We were just doing what we thought best!" Pamela tried to protest and her tone pleaded for understanding, but Sam wouldn't have any of it.
"Considering the things you've thought of in the past, clearly you don't have a good grasp on what's 'best' for others," Sam angrily snapped. The cruel words silenced both parents and they simply stared at their daughter as she ranted on. "You don't have a clue, do you? You have no idea what you're doing. You're going to let my friend go insane now, just like you let your sister. And you don't care! As long as you are okay!" Sam's voice dropped again, dangerously low in volume and full of accusation and hatred, "I know you know a way to fix this, I can see it in your eyes, Mom," she spat out the last word, a sneer twisting her face into an unpleasant sight.
With that, she spun on her heels and hurried to the door, only stopping for a brief moment when her mother called out after her.
"Sam, where are you going?"
Astounded, Sam slowly turned around to face her parents. Did they really think she was going to tell them anything after everything that had just been said? "I'm not staying with two people I no longer care about," she icily informed them. "I'm not staying here."
"You don't mean that." Her dad's voice was pleading.
Her voice was eerie now, even to her own ears. "Yes, I do. If either of you died tomorrow, I wouldn't be sad at all." Strange satisfaction filled her at her parents' hurt expressions. With nothing more to say, Sam spun on her heels and walked out the front door, making sure the door's slam would resound within the house's walls.
Tucker was standing on her doorsteps, reaching for the door when she had burst through it. He jumped back, shocked. "What just happened?" he demanded before she even finished slamming the door.
"Did you hear any of that?" she asked, grabbing his arm and hurrying him down the street, worried her parents might take off after her. Rainclouds hung low in the sky again, about to burst open on the world at any moment. "We have to get to your house now. Now. I can't stay there."
"What?" Tucker asked, confused. "And all I heard was yelling and screaming. I couldn't make anything out!"
"She did it. My mom cursed her sister. She told me herself!"
"What?" Tucker screeched. Even though both Etta and Sam had been convinced, Tucker had still found himself believing it was going to be another dead end. Hearing that Sam's mother had actually admitted to it felt surreal. He had heard angry yells, but he hadn't been sure if Sam was just in trouble for sneaking away or if it was about the curse. Now, he knew. His mind finally caught up to what Sam was saying. She couldn't stay at her house and she was guiding them towards his at a very rapid pace. He hadn't even been aware that they had broken out into a full-fledged run.
"Are your parents following us?" he hollered, through gasping breaths, trying to keep pace with her. Sam was running as if she were on fire.
"I don't know and don't want to find out!" Neither broke their stride and they arrived at Tucker's block in record timing, only stopping once they reached his house. Both bent over with their hands on their knees, panting heavily, trying to catch their breath. They both looked around wildly, expecting to see Sam's parents pop around a corner either on foot or in the car. Never did Tucker think he would be so terrified of a friend's parents. It was like her parents had suddenly morphed into a warped version of the Boogeyman.
"Okay," Tucker said at length. "Let's go in. Uh, let me get my mom alone to ask if you can stay. I'm gonna tell her you got kicked out, okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds good," Sam gasped out. They both went inside and Sam found herself alone on the couch, watching more of the news story regarding Jazz and Danny play out while Tucker sought to speak with his mother privately in the kitchen. After making sure they were out of earshot and after assuring his mother that they hadn't been running away from someone who had attempted kidnapping, Tucker took another couple deep breaths unsure how to ask about having Sam over for the night.
"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Foley asked with concern after a couple moments of tense silence. She still wasn't completely convinced she was getting the whole truth from her son. "Sam seems really upset."
Tucker twisted his shirt nervously and adjusted his glasses. "She, uh, she was kicked out of her house, Mom."
"Oh, no. That's horrible." His mother did look truly sorry to hear the news, but it soon gave way to confusion. "Doesn't she have family around here? I think she would probably be better off with them right now."
Tucker shrugged, uncertain how to explain to his mom that she wanted to hide from her parents. "Mom, please. Can she stay here for a little bit?"
"What? Can she stay here?" Mrs. Foley frowned as she thought about this. "Why would she want to stay here, Tucker? Is there something going on I should know I about between the two of you?"
It took Tucker a couple moments to figure out his mother's train of thought and when he did, he was completely aghast. "What? Of course not, Mom. It's Sam. There's nothing going on with us. That's just-just...no." Tucker shook his head to emphasize the point. He loved Sam as a friend, but the thought of her as anything else just didn't seem natural to him.
Mrs. Foley sighed heavily while drying her hands on a dish towel. She was tired and didn't know if she could sleep at night if she thought her son's friend was roaming the streets at night without a safe place to be. "Okay, for tonight, anyway. We'll see what happens tomorrow. But separate rooms, Tucker. I will be checking on you throughout the night as will your father and if either of us so much as suspects you might have been in the same room at odd hours I swear, Tucker..."
"Mom! Nothing is going to happen!" He exclaimed, embarrassment heating up his face. He was beyond thankful he had chosen to speak to his mother alone on this matter. He might have died from the embarrassment if Sam had been present. "I don't feel that way about Sam and she doesn't feel that way about me! Can we please stop talking about this now? It's weird!"
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you are teenagers and you do have raging hormones. It's only natural for me to be suspicious."
"You have nothing to worry about, Mom," Tucker promised.
Sam and Tucker both watched a little more of the news, though Tucker suspected Sam was simply staring at the TV and seeing nothing as she looked absorbed in a world of her own. No new news had surfaced regarding Jazz and Danny's whereabouts. The authorities had gotten several tips that the two siblings had last been seen in the motel. Sam had still not been able to reach Jazz on her cellphone to both her and Tucker's dismay. Right now, they took it as good news that they hadn't been found. They had figured Jazz must have realized someone would be on their tail and tore out of the motel, forgetting her cellphone or the charger. Possibly both.
Mrs. Foley had shown Sam to her room and both teens were in their beds in separate rooms by ten. Tucker promptly fell to sleep, dreaming of a world where both his best friends were just fine. Sam wasn't crushed under guilt and depression, Danny was totally sane, and even Jazz was there, the dark circles no longer the prominent feature on her face. Sam remained awake, unable to look away from the ceiling, replaying the conversation between herself and her parents over and over. When she wasn't thinking of that she would think of where Danny and Jazz might be. Her mind honed in on the condition that he'd been in at the motel. How worse had he gotten since she'd last seen him? And-and...and!
Sam turned her head into her pillow to try to stifle the sobs as she bawled. I didn't even get to tell Jazz! Jazz had been right about the curse! She had been correct and Sam had been too stubborn to even ask her parents and now she couldn't even get in touch with Jazz in order to tell her. I didn't tell her, Sam thought miserably, her face buried in the pillow, overwhelmed with despair over the situation. What was Jazz going to do? Was she even safe with Danny? Was Danny safe? My aunt died in an institution, she thought glumly, recalling how she, Tucker, and Jazz had all brought up the matter of institutionalization in the past week. She cried more until she was dry heaving into the pillow unable to come to grips with the situation at hand. I didn't even get to tell her!
"It is miserable, isn't it?" a deep male voice asked, empathetically.
Sam's head jerked away from her pillow and snapped into the direction of the voice so fast, she felt pain shoot through her neck. That was not Tucker or his father. There was a tall man near the window. He stayed hidden in the shadows, only his bright teal eyes shining through the dark. She couldn't make anything else out and didn't dare move closer, choosing to jump off the bed and back away instead, tightly hugging the pillow to her chest prepared to fling it if need be. She wanted to make it very clear she was on the defensive and not happy about it.
"Wh-who are you?" Sam stuttered through her shock.
"Ezekial. You were told about me earlier." He was sure and confident.
"What?" Sam exclaimed, trying to press down her panic and not scream in frustration at how little control she had over her life. "What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer her question, but offered up an explanation on his sudden appearance instead. "You can see me now because you were told about me by your mother."
"She didn't tell me anything but your name and that you're the reason," Sam started as she realized just who she was staring at. Her voice was low, "You're the reason my mother cursed my aunt."
He lowered his eyes and nodded slowly. "Yes, unfortunately, I do have that burden to carry. I am the reason."
"You're the reason Danny..."
"Now, let's not get carried away here. I didn't curse anyone."
Sam was at a loss for words, trying to sort everything out in her mind. "What- how- I don't und-" she stopped again, pursing her lips and frowning. "Wait- you're dead?"
"Yes, I am. I've been tailing you and your friends for awhile once I realized Carolyn was using your own friend for her Reality Warp."
"What?" Sam's jaw dropped and she couldn't stave off the waves of disbelief rolling over her. Maybe she had fallen asleep without realizing it. Every time this Ezekial opened his mouth, he said things that only half made sense. "That's impossible!" she cried out, feeling shivers go up her spine at the thought of him just hanging out without their knowledge. "I have to be dreaming," she muttered to herself.
"I'm afraid it is possible. And I'm afraid you're not dreaming."
"You're full of it," she scoffed. "We have advanced ghost detecting technology that picks up on any type of ectoplasmic matter that might be around," she recited some of stuff she'd remembered Tucker explaining about the Fentons' ghost equipment. Tucker had the ghost devices on him practically every second of the day since Danny's bizarre behavior had begun. Ezekial must just be trying to catch her off-guard and she wouldn't have any of it regardless if he was real or not.
"Technology can always be improved. You thought you had the ultimate in ghost detection technology? What would have happened if people had assumed the black-and-white TV was as good as it gets?" He folded his arms, a light smile on his lips, clearly bemused. His smile quickly faded, though, and his voice became much graver. "Like Carolyn, I'm also a special class of ghost. I'm not part of a dream."
"You're cursed, too?"
"No, I-" he looked away from her her, before hesitantly leaving the shadows. He was tall and light hair hung in his eyes. He sighed sadly. "After Carolyn went...crazy and was institutionalized, I-I tried to keep visiting and tried to keep my spirits up," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I really did love her." He shook his head, looking at Sam again. "But she was crazy. She blamed me, said it was my fault. She said me and your mother would pay. That we would be sorry. I didn't know what to do. I felt awful over it all. It was true that I had taken advantage of her sister and made her so angry. I never realized that I had complicated things so much by taking advantage of Pamela. But I did realize it after Carolyn ranted and raved at me."
"What did you do?" Sam asked suspiciously. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but was hoping to be wrong.
"I went on with it for about two years, but then I couldn't take it anymore. It was just too much. Every time I slept, I saw Carolyn's enraged face and Pamela's angry, betrayed one. Then I realized it was like Carolyn said. It was all my fault. I killed myself." It was said so simply with so much straightforwardness that Sam took a moment to make sure she had heard correctly before reacting.
"You committed suicide?" She had suspected it, but it still didn't lessen the shock. The person that had driven such a wedge between her mother and aunt and been the reason for this curse had wound up committing suicide. Just like that. After leaving such disaster in his wake.
"Yes, I did. It's why I'm in a special class and can't be detected by those devices."
"And you are here now because...?"
"Since both I and Carolyn are in special classes, but of a different kind, we cannot see each other. I've been following people I think she might be planning to use her power from the Curse on. I'm hoping I can see her through the person."
"Why?"
"So I can tell her I love her."
"That's...that's... it?" Even though Sam was aware of the complicated love affair that had led each of them to their current state of being, it simply wasn't what she had been expecting. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to say, but it wasn't that.
"Haven't you ever loved someone? It's a strong emotion. I never told her I loved her while we were both still living."
Sam's eyes narrowed in incredulity. She had heard of "hopeless romantic" but this was pretty extreme. "I actually can't say I've ever felt love that strongly."
"You are still young," he brushed away her remark. With a level look, he added, "I'm also hoping to be able to assist her."
This piqued Sam's interest considerably. "Help her with what?"
"The Reality Warp." At Sam's blank stare, he expanded, "It's the power given to her from the Curse. She can channel her power into someone who is somehow connected to the person who placed the Curse on her. Using the power she can twist, or warp, their reality."
When said in such simple terms, Sam found herself amazed that her and Jazz combined had been incapable of figuring out what had been going through Danny's head. Everything fell into place for her. He had just given her all the pieces of the puzzle and even put it together for her in one fell swoop. Carolyn was connected to Danny through her. Sam was connected to her mother, the one who had cast the Curse. She shoved aside the guilt at ever having doubted Danny's sanity and focused in on Ezekial. He was very talkative and she was willing to bet he'd answer her next question. "What is the point of the Reality Warp? To drive someone insane as an act of revenge?"
"Oh, sometimes that is what it's used for," Ezekial readily agreed. "But not this time. If that were the case, she would have chosen you."
"What is the case?" Sam asked, not liking the his tone of voice. He knew she wouldn't like the answer.
"If you use the Reality Warp right, you can use it to regain your chance at life." He grinned, waiting for the weight of his words to fully sink in. Once the shock registered on Sam's face, he went on, "It's extremely tricky, though, which is why most cursed ghosts simply wind up driving their target to insanity and sometimes even suicide. Six times out of ten, the resulting death is usually an accident because who doesn't want a second chance at life? It's hard to achieve because they have to torture the living soul into allowing them to inhabit their body and overpower the living soul that originally inhabits the body." It took Sam couple moments to fully process the information.
"What?" Sam exploded. "Are you saying she's going to use Danny's body to live another life?"
"Yes." He confirmed.
Sam felt herself starting to hyperventilate with anger. "So, basically, she just needs a body? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Correct. Like I said this is very hard to achieve. Not only the physical aspect, but the soul survival is hard as well. She has to make sure her soul will sync once in his body. Some other ghosts have gotten this far, but very few have actually survived on their own once they've finally taken over their target's body. Your friend, though, he is a very special case. I don't know how he is still alive and can transform in a ghost, but that he can makes him a perfect target. It would make it easier for Carolyn to adjust to his body as he is currently connected to the ghost world. It increases her chance of soul survival considerably." There was a short pause, before he elaborated further, "Actually, it pretty much guarantees her soul surviving the sync."
Composure was not something she could really hold onto any longer. She had been so good at not giving him the pleasure of seeing traces of defeat in her eyes, but now they widened in horror as the realization hit her. Ezekial couldn't help but grin as he kept talking, clearly enjoying her reaction, "How lucky for her that you have such a wonderful friendship with the perfect target. I can't say much for his luck, though." Ignoring her growing horror, he continued, " If it goes smoothly, her soul and his will fuse for a short while, essentially creating a new person. Her soul would be the stronger of the two, though, and would eventually snuff his out completely. Her soul would be the surviving one and it would live out another life while in his body." He summed up everything he'd just said with a simple sentence, "He will be a new person with a new soul."
"His soul-so their souls are basically going to fight for control over Danny's body?" Sam surmised. Grasping at any sort of hope, she blurted, "Won't her soul feel weird in a guy's body?" It was a silly thing to latch on to, but it was still something. In her mind, it would be the greatest obstacle.
"Souls are genderless."
Of course their souls wouldn't be concerned over something such as gender. Still, she wouldn't give up hope yet. "W-why? I mean, she's already lived her life! This isn't fair," Sam protested. Surely, even the dead could see how unfair this ploy was. Who had allowed such curses into existence?
"No, but it wasn't fair that her life was cruelly cut short, was it? And this is part of her revenge as well. You are the daughter of the one who gave her the Curse. Giving you grief will help ease the anger her soul has been burdened with."
"No! This isn't right!" Sam cried, flinging her pillow at Ezekial. It flew straight through him and hit the shelf, making it shake violently. A picture tumbled off of it and hit the floor, the glass loudly shattering. Both Sam and Ezekial stared at the broken picture. Neither had anything else to say. Sam let out another angry sound before turning on her heels and racing out the door. She knew he could follow her no matter what, but she hoped this would make him give her some space.
Bounding down the stairs, she threw all caution to the wind unconcerned about waking Tucker or his parents. She was surprised they weren't already up with all the noise she had been making. Letting herself into the backyard, she plopped heavily on the wet steps, unable to stop the flood of tears. This Ezekial had no reason to lie to her. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her head in her arms, ignoring the cold rain that splattered on her skin and soaked the pajamas she had borrowed from Tucker's mother. Ezekial didn't bother her and she had no idea how long she sat out there, before she heard a tentative voice from behind her.
"Sam?" She made no response to Tucker's presence, but was grateful it wasn't Ezekial happily bearing more bad news. "Sam?" Tucker asked again concerned. He glanced at the sky and down at his friend, wondering how long she'd been out here. Loud noises had been coming from her room and, against his better judgment, he had peeked in silently praying his parents wouldn't see him. Alarmed at the empty room, he had scouted out the house in a frantic search for her. To find her out in this horrible weather was definitely surprising. When she still didn't respond, he reluctantly sat next to her, unsure how to comfort his obviously distressed friend. "Sam, we'll figure this out, okay? We'll get in touch with Jazz. Everything will work out." Not fully convinced himself, he forced himself to speak with confidence hoping to inspire some hope into Sam's demeanor.
Sam lifted her head and shook it. "No, no it's not," she said, turning to face him. Tucker felt his stomach drop a little at such a doleful expression. Rain and tears slid down her face. "No," she insisted. "Tucker, it's not. She's going to steal his soul."
"What?" Tucker was positive he must have misunderstood; she was starting to sound a little crazy.
"Ezekial came and told me that she's going to take over his soul. She's going to destroy the Danny that we know and become the new one."
"What? Who?" He wasn't capable of doing much but imitating a fish with the way his mouth kept opening to say something, but promptly shut, too shocked to say much. It was hard to even blurt out one-word questions.
"Ezekial, the guy who my Mom fell in love with, but he loved her sister and-and," Sam felt more tears coming as she tried to explain, well aware that Tucker was looking at her in panic and disbelief. Of course, she realized, he would think she was losing it. She had been too miserable to fully explain everything her mother had told her. She hadn't even told him Ezekial's name.
Tucker gaped at Sam, eyes doubling in size. His mind was reeling as he replayed all the conversations he'd had with Jazz and Sam over Danny's dilemma. He was pretty sure that it was not contagious, but he felt that Sam must have missed the memo. One step at a time, he told himself, trying to regain some control over the situation. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him. "Sam, take deep breaths." It was the only thing that had sprang into his mind, but it must not have been the best advice he could have given. Next thing he knew Sam was slumped against him, crying unabashedly. Tucker awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, at a loss for words. "Sam, it'll turn out okay. You'll see." This time he didn't have to inject his words with fake confidence; he truly believed the end outcome would be good.
"I don't think it is, Tucker," Sam ground out between her sobs. Any other time, she'd be highly embarrassed to have a complete and total breakdown in front of her friend, but she was beyond caring. Horror at the situation overrode anything else she felt towards the situation, making it practically impossible to think clearly, much less formulate a counter-plan or find comfort in any of the assurances falling from Tucker's lips.
Her sudden flood of emotions overwhelmed Tucker. He had no words and simply squeezed her tightly hoping she could draw some strength from him or, at the very least, feel a little encouraged.
They sat like for a long while, rain pouring down around them. Tucker displayed patience Sam hadn't realized he was capable of. She finally gathered herself, slowly pushing herself away from him and inhaled and exhaled deep breaths for a couple minutes. He shot her a curious look, but remained silent, fearing anything he said might set her off again. He really couldn't blame her for being so emotional. To be honest, he would probably be freaking out if he'd just learned what she'd just learned about her parents.
"I'm okay," she assured him, between deep breaths. Tucker refrained from pointing out that he had serious doubts about that claim. He waited patiently for her to go on. Sam was able to read the unasked question in his eyes. "I'm good, just give me a moment and I'll explain everything." He nodded and waited in silence while Sam continued to regain her composure.
Finally, she took one last deep breath, before launching into a detailed explanation of everything that had been said between her parents and what all had just transpired in her guest room. She made he understood just who Ezekial was and what role he played in all of this. Tucker was rapt with attention, his face growing with horror as her story progressed on. After she finished, he simply stared ahead, shocked into silence for several long moments. He wasn't sure if he was more shocked at the whole story or the fact that up until a few hours ago, he and Sam had been on the same page but now she seemed to have jumped several pages ahead of him. His silence was beginning to unnerve Sam, prompting her to softly question if he was all right.
"I'm fine," Tucker insisted, his voice betraying how shaken he was. "I just- wow. Wow." He wrapped his arms around himself and hugged tightly, not sure if he was shivering from the creepy explanation of Carolyn's powers or from being in the rain for so long. "It doesn't matter. Not matter what this Ezekial thinks she can do, she can't make us forget that she's trying to steal his soul. I mean, how can we forget something like that?" The idea was completely foreign to his mind and well beyond the line of ridiculous. He might could have believed it if this new character hadn't come out and told him Sam flat-out what the plans were. Still, that kind of unshakable confidence did ignite doubts deep within him.
More water showered Tucker when Sam adamantly shook her head, wet hair swinging wildly about her face. "Tucker, I believe she can do it. There wasn't any reason he had to lie to me and look what she's done so far in such a short amount of time." She paused, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them, muttering, "It doesn't really seem that impossible when you think about the past week." Wrapping her arms and her knees and squeezing tightly, she added, "This is my fault. If I had just listened to Jazz and asked my parents when she wanted us to, maybe it wouldn't have gotten this bad so fast. Maybe we could have had more time to figure things out and even assure Danny he wasn't crazy." It hurt deep down knowing that both Tucker and Jazz had summoned the courage to approach their parents about the topic so much earlier than her, while she remained so stubborn in her refusal to ask.
Tucker gently squeezed his friend's shoulder, sympathy flooding him again, wishing he could be do more than just lend an ear. "Don't think like that, Sam. Even if we had known, we might not have been able to do much."
Sam's head snapped up and she looked at Tucker through defeated and frustrated eyes. "Don't you get it? We could have done something. The reason everything it working so greatly for Carolyn is because Danny thinks he's losing it. We encouraged that feeling." Hunching back over into herself, she shrugged Tucker's hand off her shoulder.
His hand fell limply at his side and Tucker didn't say any more, both content to remain in such miserable silence. The rain came down harder, drenching them further and even though he wanted to get up and out of the downpour, Tucker found he was unable to move. Worry and shock over everything he'd just been told kept him rooted firmly to the porch step, no longer caring if his parents found them out there and grounded him. What can we do? He wanted so badly to do something, but there seemed to be no glimmer of hope. The future looked too bleak to even attempt putting up a fight. Sam's words rang true. Danny was so far gone because he had honestly believed he was and, though it shamed him, Tucker had as well. He had seen the doubt in Sam's eyes and even in Jazz's. Jazz. The thought made him shoot up, water rolling off him in mini streams, some flying onto the unsuspecting Sam.
Sam looked up at him curiously. "What?" There was no hope that he'd just developed some miraculous rescue plan, but genuine interest in his sudden movement.
"It's Jazz. I mean, she doesn't have any clue about any of this. How are we going to tell her? And, we just can't-maybe once she knows, she can figure something out! I mean, she read more of that stuff than both of us and she knows a little more about her parents' ghosts gadgets and what she doesn't know, I can-" he cut himself off, everything hitting him all at once. "Why are we just sitting here, moping?" He turned to go inside, ignoring the squishy sound his wet clothes made or how uncomfortably cold they felt against his skin. "We need to get to Danny's house. I can figure out what some of those gadgets are and I can try to work something out. Maybe we can even figure out a way to get in touch with Jazz."
Sam regarded him doubtfully. "That's a lot of stuff we're going to have to do, Tucker. Ezekial made it sound like there wasn't too much time left."
"Who cares about what some dead guy has to say? He's dead, it's not like he's going to be able to do a whole lot more. He hasn't done anything to us this whole time he's been stalking us. Big deal. Let's just worry about how to save Danny from this Carolyn person."
"My aunt," Sam corrected under her breath. Tucker frowned, able to hear it even over the rain. Reaching down, he held out his hand and gave her the most determined look he could muster.
"Sam. Who cares if it's your aunt? Big deal. At least we know so let's try to fix it. You're not going to do Danny any good drowning yourself in guilt."
His harsh words and tone must have cracked her barrier, because a bit of hope sparkled in her eyes and she accepted his hand, pulling herself off the wet cement. "Right. You're right. Danny's the one we need to think about right now. I can save all this for later." Wet hair hung in her hairs and her clothes were soaked. She looked at Tucker intently. "You really think we can find something at Danny's house?"
"Yes, so let's go!" Their hands fell apart and they took off running, Tucker leading the way. They sped towards the Fentons on foot, feet pounding the wet pavement as if they were participating in a race. Every time she heard a dog bark, Sam felt herself shudder, wondering if it would alert anyone to their whereabouts. It was way past curfew for people their age and with all the news reports, the police had been crawling around the neighborhoods lately, in search of both Danny and Jazz. She couldn't count how many times she'd slipped and almost fallen into a puddle, regaining her balance just in time or Tucker catching her before being thrown completely off balance. On the other hand, she couldn't count how maybe times the same had happened to Tucker. They kept close to the back of the houses, remembering the layouts of the neighborhoods from when they were younger and played outside more often.
Tucker came to a skidding halt, mud and water coating his shoes and staining his socks. Droplets of rain clung to his glasses obstructing his vision. He held his arm out, signaling for Sam to stop. She also skidded, water and mud squishing together within her socks. It didn't bother either one of them, how wet, dirty, and cold they were. They were determined to do something- anything to try to help their friend. Peering over his arm, Sam searched the area wondering what had stopped him so suddenly. Sheets of rain made it hard to make out anything but instinctually she knew they were close to their destination. She was right; Danny's house could be seen from here if she squinted. Squinting more and ignoring the rain, she let her eyes roam the block, inspecting the surrounding area to the best of her ability. It was hard see anything at all in the rain. Finally, she spotted the squad car not too far off from the Fentons. There was another further down the block. Puzzled, she glanced at Tucker, curious as to how he could have ever spotted those especially with his visual impairment.
"Ha," he got out around quiet chuckle. "It was just my gut. I didn't actually seem them until just now, too. I remembered how big a deal Mom made over it. Some detective's supposed to be over at my place tomorrow for questioning."
"What? Really?" she asked, her tone hushed. This was news to her.
"Yeah, they're probably going to be at yours, too. Your parents just didn't get a chance to tell you, I bet."
"At least they actually know what's going on," she said disgustedly.
Tucker chose to say nothing, pursing his lips. "But that's all for tomorrow. Right now, we need to focus on getting into the house without being caught by the cops and not waking up Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. It would be so much easier if Jazz were with us."
"Right. What if the door's locked?"
"It's okay. I got a spare key."
"What?"
"Danny gave it to me awhile ago in case he got held up as Phantom and I needed to get into his house to use on of his parents devices that they have lying around the house," he patiently explained, still intently inspecting every angle of his friend's house, trying to determine the best route for them to take without getting noticed.
"Wow, that's convenient," Sam commented, a little shocked that anything could go right for them at all.
"I know, right? Talk about lucky. I just got it from him, like, two weeks ago."
"How do we get over there, though?"
"I think I found a way."
Tucker led the way very carefully, the two friends sticking very close to each other and moving with extreme care, keeping their eyes on the two squad cars that were patrolling the area. Tucker led them into a neighbor's backyard several houses down from Danny's. "Okay," he took a deep breath and turned to Sam once they were both safely inside the fence, hidden away from any prying eyes unless the occupants of the house felt the need to get up at his late hour in the night. With a glance at his watch, Tucker confirmed most of the neighbors should be in a deep slumber, the time creeping up on two in the morning. After carefully explaining the plan to Sam, they decided to try their luck at getting to Danny's house unnoticed. Fortunately, most of the houses were fenced and one of the squad cars only passed by the street in front of the Fentons house before going around the block opposite them. The other car squad car circled the block they were in. Tucker worried that they might not make it to cover on time each time they hopped a fence. They only had a short span of time each time the second squad car passed by. There was a way to see them from the east, west, north and south. Tucker worried more about the east and west openings because it would be easier to see them. They would have to be just in the right spot with bad timing to be spotted any other way. The rolling, ducking, and fence hopping was both mentally and physically exhausting.
Finally, they arrived one house away from Danny's. Tucker and Sam squeezed hands, trying to encourage each other to keep their cool. They were so close, they could practically feel their fingers around the Fentons' backdoor knob. "We're just going to run for it." Tucker said, waiting patiently for the patrol car to disappear from sight. "Now." It was a quiet, but urgent command and they both made a mad dash to Danny's backdoor. Sam could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest and could swear she could hear Tucker's heart thumping wildly in the night over the sound of the rain. She practically leapt to the door, landing on shaky feet and grasping the doorknob, twisting it wildly. Locked. Spotting the other patrol car turning a corner, Tucker threw himself the last little bit of the way and rolled, coming to a stop at Sam's feet. She reached down, quickly helping him up, frantic to get into the house. They had both just managed to stay out of view, but it would feel much better to be in the house.
Tucker jammed the key into the hole and the door flew open, rain pooling onto the floor that conjoined with the door "Quietly." Sam pleaded, feeling her heart stop at the sound of the wind knocking the door into the wall. They both tumbled into the house and Tucker grabbed the door before it could slam into the wall again. He gently shut it and they both listened for any signs that they had woken up Mrs. and Mr. Fenton. After several tense moments, both relaxed a little, relief lighting their faces with smiles. "Looks like we're in the clear for now," Sam whispered. "To the basement?"
"Yes."
Wind howled outside and the rain continued to pour while Tucker searched through the Fentons' different gadgets, desperately trying to find anything that might help in any way. Sam had taken to reading their notes, wondering if by some miracle they actually were familiar with these other classes of ghosts. It was something she wasn't getting her hopes up about, judging by Jazz's reaction when they had learned of it. Jazz might not have much interest in this sort of thing, but she was definitely familiar with her parents' stuff simply because she lived with them.
Tucker was frantically pulling stuff apart and putting other things back together. He inspected several different pieces of technology intently, eyes narrowing each time he thought he might find something that would help in some way. Finally, Sam put down her notes and shot him a look. "Tucker, what exactly are we hoping to accomplish by doing this? It kind of feels like we're just rummaging through their stuff, but have no idea what we're looking for."
"I have an idea. You were worried about mind wiping and, also, we now know that these only detect the most common kind of ghost." He held up one of the ghost detectors that he'd been carrying around with him. "But they should be detecting anything with ectoplasm, so I'm trying to tweak it so it can pick up on any ghost signal it might be receiving even if it is an unfamiliar one being emitted to it. I think that's why it wasn't reading the ghost that's been messing with Danny or the ghost that said he'd been following us the past week; it's just these things have never read their kind of signals before and weren't designed to. So, I'm hoping," Tucker went on, explaining the more technical parts of the machines, trying to help Sam understand and trying to walk himself through some of it. Maybe he would somehow get inspired.
There had to be some way that it could read those ghosts. It was confusing because he had truly believed it would pick up on anything with ectoplasm, which meant Danny's parents must have designed these differently than he'd first thought. He felt like he was the verge of making some kind of breakthrough. He knew it had something to do with the signals of the other ghosts and the original design of the devices. Reworking the inner parts of the device and rewiring it to sense even the slightest bit of paranormal activity should set off the ghost alarm. Even the thermal devices didn't read anything. Were these designed differently, too? He could only imagine the relief that Danny would feel seeing that there was a ghost, unlike when they'd been in the movie theater's restroom. Still, I don't understand why it can't read them. There has to be a way. Nobody has said that part of the curse is to be undetected and what Ezekial said to Sam made it sound like if we improved what we had we would have been able to detect both him and Carolyn.
Sam was sure it'd been over an hour when she heard a loud grumbling sound. She looked at Tucker, appalled. "You're hungry? It's like, three in the morning! You should be good for another five hours at least!"
"Hey, when I'm racking my brain this much, I get hungry, okay?" Tucker shot back, fiddling more with the machinery he had in his hands. "It's not like I'm choosing to be hungry."
Sam was silent for a few moments before sighing. "Fine. What do you want?"
Tucker stopped for a second, shocked. "What? You're actually going to get me something to eat? Seriously?"
Folding her arms, Sam tried to keep her cool, reminding herself that they were intruders and not supposed to be in the house. "Yes. Okay? Don't act like I'm some awful friend who's never done anything for you. Is a sandwich okay?"
"Yeah, that would be great," Tucker agreed not able to hide the awe in his voice. "Are you sure you'll be okay up there alone? Make sure you don't pass by any window's that have the curtains opened."
"I'll be fine. The kitchen isn't that far away and I'll check the windows. Don't worry, I'll be quick." Sam was already making her way up the stairs, quiet as can be. At the top of the stairs, she glanced around checking for any windows that weren't covered. All nearby windows had their curtains drawn shut. Glancing at the backdoor, she cursed under her breath. She and Tucker had left a trail of water and mud when they'd entered. Great, I guess I'll need to clean that up. Lifting her feet up, she checked to make sure she wasn't leaving a new trail. Guess I'm dry enough. Wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for all the mud. She stood there for several seconds, uncertain what exactly to do. Wouldn't the Fentons notice a wet towel covered in mud in their laundry? Would Mr. Fenton notice that his trashcan was stuffed with dirty paper towels that hadn't been there before he went to bed? Not only that, but it would take forever to clean it with paper towels! I'll take my chances with the mop. Sam thought and determinedly set about to cleaning up the area, checking periodically for any signs that someone other than Tucker might be awake and moving about the house.
She had been quick and she hoped thorough. Still, she'd completed the task in less than fifteen minutes, fearing being caught with a mop and bucket by Danny's parents. It would just look way too suspicious. Sparing her handiwork one last glance, she moved to the kitchen, checking the windows and sighing in relief when she found them covered. She didn't have to do too much searching in the kitchen, being familiar with where everything was. As she finished the sandwich, a presence made itself known behind her. She felt her hair stand on ends, but after a moment, calmed her nerves and turned around. This particular being wasn't too threatening.
"Ezekial. I see you're still stalking us."
"Yes." He casually leaned up against the fridge, mimicking an action he had probably done often in life. "I told you that things were moving smoothly for Carolyn. She's completely snowed your friend's mind in doubt, fear, and general insanity. He should be buried in it by now."
Sam's eyes widened and she nearly dropped the sandwich, which was now ready to eat. "So that's what he meant," she mumbled, "about snow."
"Yes, it's amazing how everything comes together and makes so much more sense after the fact, right?"
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I was just wondering why you felt so comfortable leaving your friend alone after everything I'd told you. Aren't you worried at all?"
"About?" Sam asked, grip tightening uncomfortably on the sandwich. She had been positive Ezekial wouldn't or couldn't attack them physically. Was he implying he'd done something to Tucker?
"I told you it would happen." He vanished into thin air and Sam heard steps approaching. She fought down panic, trying to come up with a decent excuse should it be one of the Fenton parents. It belatedly occurred to her that she and Tucker should have hashed out a plausible excuse way before this point in the game, but in their panic and desperation they had overlooked doing so.
Rounding the corner, Tucker gave her an odd look. "It took awhile to make a sandwich. I could have done made one and eaten it by now."
"Here." Sam held it out, too relieved that it was Tucker and not the Fentons to be insulted. "So, what'd you find out?"
Tucker shrugged. "Same stuff as always. The portal's still operating okay, so Danny should be all right."
Sam waited a couple seconds for the punch line before turning to her friend, incredulity etched into every feature of her face. "What? Who cares about all that right now? Did you find anything out about figuring out a way to show Danny he isn't crazy?"
Tucker eyed her critically, clearly confused by his friend's sincere over-the-top reaction. "What are you talking about, Sam? Danny just asked us to go in there and check out the portal while he was taking care of some baddies. Big deal. All's well in the ghost cave downstairs." He bit into the sandwich, observing her carefully. All color left Sam and she stared at him wide-eyed. "Sam? Are you okay? Hey, thanks for the sandwich." He waved it around. "It's good. Kinda still can't believe you were nice enough to make one for me." He checked his watch and groaned at the time displayed. "Man, it's so late. We should probably go home. Don't we have school tomorrow?"
Throat constricting, Sam felt like a giant chunk of ice had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. Tears threatened to fall as she listened to Tucker yap on casually like they did this all the time. Even though he still acted like they were good friends, she couldn't fight the feeling she'd just lost another one of her best friends. He had been the one to dangle hope in front of her and now he was the one cruelly snatching it away in such a clueless manner.
"Sam? Hey? Anybody in there?" He loudly snapped his fingers in front of her eyes and she came to life, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, new panic swelling within her.
"Are you crazy? The Fentons might have heard you! Do you want them alerting the police? We shouldn't be in here!"
"The police? Are you crazy?"
"No, Tucker! Don't you remember anything? Danny and Jazz are both missing and the police have been trying to find them. It was even on the news! You just said earlier a detective was coming to question you tomorrow!"
Tucker yanked his hand away from her as if he'd been burned. "This is one elaborate prank, Sam. Give it up already. We should go home, anyway. I've checked what Danny wanted and everything's fine." He stuck one hand in his pocket before groaning. "Great. I left something downstairs. I'll be right back and then we'll head out." Casually he headed back to the stairs, all the tension from when he had first entered the Fentons' having completely vanished.
Sam made to protest but stopped short when Ezekial became visible again. Tucker didn't register anything new so she assumed he still wasn't privy to the new ghost. She hung behind, watching as Tucker disappeared from the kitchen. Ezekial shook his head at her. "It's pointless. He's forgotten."
"He still talked like he knew Danny!"
"I never said he was going to forget Danny. Remember? He's just going to forget what happened and that Danny's soul was ever in any need of rescuing. Don't you see? It's the perfect way for a ghost to come back to the world of the living. His personality might change some, but you'll have no idea why and it's not like its unheard of for humans to have a change in personality throughout their lives. Such wonderful power."
"That-that's," Sam stuttered, despair swallowing her words. "This is insane."
"It is pretty crazy," the ghost readily agreed. "I'm going to go see if the sister has forgotten her memories and if Carolyn can see me with her new human eyes." He started to leave before glancing back at the shell-shocked girl standing in the kitchen. "You should check the news reports. I'm sure you won't find anything about your friends being missing. Even the squad cars probably have some other reason they think they are in this neighborhood by now."
Sam's eyes just widened more, unable to grasp everything happening. It was happening too fast. What had Tucker been on the verge of fixing? She could tell he'd been so close and now this! What if Jazz really was just as confused as Tucker? What if Danny...? If Jazz was as confused as Tucker, then they were in serious trouble. Danny!
