Damn clichés. Alex should have guessed what would happen as soon as he told Sam that he'd be right behind her, it's basically taboo. You tell someone it will be alright, that it will all work out, and it blows up in your face.

On to more present events, Alex found himself sitting at a table in a large dining room. A ghost servant came in, carrying a tray of drinks for him. Vlad was nowhere to be seen, he had dropped Alex off in the room, said a few choice words, then left. Alex frowned, feeling like he was stuck on Skeleton Key all over again.

"Would you like some tea, Mr. Rider?" the ghost asked. Alex scowled at him, and the ghost took the hint, phasing through the wall, taking the tray with him. Alex rose from his chair, going over to take a look out of the window. There wasn't much of a view, other than a large view of some empty field. He sighed, turning and leaning against the glass. He had been in the large room for what seemed like an hour and, after checking his phone again, he had been alone the entire time, save for the ghost with the tray. It was time to act.

He returned to the table, stealing a knife and tucking it in his belt. A tug on his shirt draped the fabric over the belt, concealing the weapon. He grabbed several other knives, and a few forks, and hid them at random throughout the room. It would either look like he had given up on a game of hid-and-seek with himself, or he was just messing up the table setting. They wouldn't notice a knife missing until they found all the other misplaced eating utensils in the room. At least, he hoped so, but he wasn't actually betting on the idea to work.

Alex silently exited the room through a small door. With a sigh, he set off at a run down a hall, hoping he could get to where he needed to be without getting caught.

Sam was halfway back to Amity Park, and getting closer with every second. She hadn't looked back when Alex told her to go, not when she had the book. It had been difficult, but he was right; they had to get the book back so they could safely get Danny out. They both knew that Alex was more than capable to fend for himself. She glanced down for a moment, to the black book nestled in one arm.

"Just a little longer, Danny," She whispered. "We're almost there, so hang on."

The book remained silent. There was no way that Danny could have heard her. The Goth looked back up towards Amity Park with fierce determination, putting a burst of speed on the bike.

Alex skidded to a stop, ducking into a doorway as the sound of footsteps met his ears. Not five seconds later, Vlad Masters turned a corner walking down the hallway, no doubt going to check on the young spy. Alex held his breath as the man passed by, pressing himself further in the shadows. He scampered off as soon as the moment allowed it. Vlad would notice his absence soon, and with his powers, he could stop the boy very quickly. Alex didn't look back.

Vlad stopped when he had reached the door to the room he had left Alex in. He knew he had a fifty-fifty chance that Alex even stayed there. Knocking on the wooden door, he called for the boy, waiting for an answer. Receiving none, he opened the door, striding in. The room was vacant of any signs of the spy. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the boy had taken all of the knives and forks from the table setting.

"So, he armed himself, and ran away?" the man mused, smirking and looking around the room once more before transforming into his alter- ego and flying off. "I wonder where he is now; it shouldn't be too hard to track him down."

Alex charged into the study, running over and yanking on the football statue to open the trapdoor. The ecto suit was where it had been left. From the looks of it, nothing foreign had been added to it; it had only been repaired. Alex threw the hatch open, climbing in. The hatch closed on its own power, and the machine burst into life, as if it was eager to work again. Alex tested the foot pedals, then the joystick like controllers for the massive arms. A metal strip attached itself to the boy's spine, giving him full control of the suit.

"This I could get used to!" he whispered, marveling as the suit followed his every move as he took a few steps forward. A small screen inside the suit flashed 100%, and Sam's words fluttered through Alex's mind. The suit had been unstable when Danny had used it, and it had almost killed him. He'd have to be careful and not drain too much of his own strength. He turned and prepared to leave the room, only to be stopped by Plasmius.

"So," the man drawled, rubbing his bearded chin, "You found the suit and decided to take it? Do you even know how to use it?"

"I don't need to know how!" Alex shot back, "I just need to know enough to beat you."

"Very well; do your worst."

Alex didn't need to be told, he was already running at the man, preparing a powerful kick. Plasmius easily dodged the attack, coming back with an ecto blast. The pink energy knocked Alex off balance ever so slightly, but he returned with a punch and another kick. The ghost laughed, avoiding these as well with ease.

"Really, Alex, you're not even trying!"

Alex pursed his lips in annoyance, fixing the suit into a more appropriate battle stance. He kept one fist the suits side, and the other stretched out, palm facing his enemy. When Plasmius got close enough, he lashed out, pulling his open hand towards him and punching out with the fist, hitting Plasmius square in the chest. The ghost went flying back into the back wall, leaving Alex with a window of opportunity. He ran off, blasting through the fire place and out of the study, down the hall and out of the castle, all in less than thirty seconds. The suit increased its user's power ten-fold, as Alex quickly noticed with relish. Plasmius was left, barely conscious from the massive hit, with one thought on his mind: Alex was very powerful in his own way, almost equal to Daniel, but like the little badger, he was very resistant to any thoughts of joining him. He'd have to do something about that problem.

Sam found Tucker in the park, having searched there on a whim. She had stowed the bike in Danny's house, carrying the book and guitar with her as she went out looking for her friend.

"Hey, Tucker!" she called, running towards him. The boy had been sitting at a picnic table, fiddling with his PDA and cell phone. He looked up with a start at the sound of her voice. He smiled when she sat next to him, showing the book in her arms. Something clicked in his head, and he looked worried.

"Where's Alex?" he asked. Sam's face dropped.

"Vlad caught him. The only reason that I didn't stay to help was because I knew he could take care of himself, and I had to get the book back her so Danny could be guaranteed a safe place when he was let out of this stupid book."

"Fine; let's go to Fenton Works. I think Yassen is still there-"

"He is. He was just sitting on the couch when I went there to hide the bike."

Tucker decided to say nothing in response to that, instead following the Goth back to Danny's house. Yassen opened the door seconds before either of them could. He stared down at them through his stolen sunglasses before stepping aside and letting them in, closing the door behind them.

"Alex isn't with you." he stated. Sam nodded, retelling the story in a shorter version to him as she ran into the kitchen, sitting at the table and opening the book. "How long has your friend been in the book?"

"I don't know; a few hours." Sam snapped, annoyed at his distracting question.

"Boy," Yassen said, turning to Tucker, who scowled. "Go find a first aid kit."

Tucker knew why it would be needed, and ran off to find one. The assassin went over to the sink, finding a few clean towels and running them under some water to moisten them before lightly wringing them out. He carried them over to the table, depositing them on its surface just as Tucker returned, breathless. Yassen took the kit, sitting it on the table.

Danny felt his body freeze up. Barry seemed to know something was wrong with the boy, and his crazed grin grew.

"Did you know," he whispered, "that the first person that I killed was my wife? She was nagging me about something and, without meaning to, I chopped her to pieces!"

Danny's eyes widened, mouth agape in silent horror. How could anyone kill someone like that? Barry knelt down to his eye level, a look of something in his eyes. He couldn't make out what emotion the monster was trying to mimic, though it looked close to remorse. Danny didn't like him being close to him, and he closed his green eyes desperately, feeling that the darkness was the only place where he could be safe. With a grin, Barry smacked the boy across his chest with the sharp edge of the meat cleaver, cutting a long and deep wound into him. Danny gasped; feeling tears of pain sting his eyes. He opened his eyes to see the weapon still stuck in his flesh, and cried out as it was jerked free and he began bleeding even more than ever. He saw how Barry raised the weapon, how the man was about to cut him again, and made a decision.

Danny raised an arm, blocking the oncoming attack by hitting Barry's arm. He held on to his arm, refusing to let go, and punched the man in the jaw with his other arm, hiding a wince of pain as he did so.

"I won't let you kill me! Not like this!" the halfa said fiercely, punching his enemy again, stunning him. He grabbed the meat cleaver, throwing it away and into the shadows, holding tightly onto the man when he tried to chase after it. Danny gave a final, hard, punch at Barry, this time at his exposed throat. The man fell to the side, gasping and choking. The boy ignored him, pushing the cow off of his legs as best as he could until he could pull himself free. It was a miracle that his legs hadn't been broken, and Danny thanked his powers, even though they wouldn't work here, for that. He set off at a slow and painful pace, leaving Barry the Chopper behind. He would keep walking until he found a way out, be it a window or door.

Barry glared at the boy as he staggered away. His cleaver hadn't gone far, and it was easy to find. With a strangled gasp and moan, he picked it back up, turning towards the retreating form.

"You little shit!" he wheezed, trailing after Danny. He began to run silently towards him. Danny reacted at the last instant, diving to the side. He had seen Barry's shadow, cast by one of the lights hanging eerily from the ceiling. Barry growled, lunging at the boy before he could stand, and pinning him to the wall next to a window. The cleaver was at Danny's throat again, only this time it was held with more pressure, leaving no room to struggle. Danny leaned against the wall, fear in his eyes as the fight vanished, leaving only terror.