Danny's alarm goes off at five in the morning, which is both absolutely abhorrent and perfect. Abhorrent because, well, it's five in the morning, and perfect because this is exactly how early he wanted to wake up. Groaning, he swipes at the alarm clock on his bedside table, misses the 'off' switch, and knocks it onto the floor with a thud. He stays frozen in place for a few seconds as he tries to process what just happened, then rolls over to grab the clock off the floor and shut it off. He doesn't bother putting it back on the nightstand and drops it on the floor for Future Danny to deal with.

Now that he's awake, he yawns, rubs at his eyes, and slogs out of bed. From there, it doesn't take long for him to switch out of his pyjamas and into his favorite jeans and red-and-white t-shirt. As he crosses the hall into the bathroom, Alvin melts through the wall and rubs at his eyes.

You're up early.

"Yeah," he mumbles groggily, turning on the tap to splash his face with lukewarm water. "I'm gonna try talking to the spirit myself."

Alvin's aura spikes with alarm. Are you off your rocker? She'll kill you!

"Guess I'll die, then. But in all seriousness, I think I might be able to come to some kind of agreement with her. Like, that I'll stop bugging her if she promises not to eat me. Or hurt anyone. I don't know." Danny sighs as he leaves the bathroom to gather up his school stuff and the supplies he's set aside.

You've had these powers for… what, a week? Mastering whatever this is will take a helluva lotta time, kid, don't go acting all cocky because you helped a single ghost pass on!

"I'm not being cocky," Danny hisses, roughly shoving a box of sea salt in his backpack, "I just want to talk. She talked to you, maybe she'll appreciate talking to me."

Listen, Danny, spirits used to be ghosts at one point or another, Alvin begins in an exasperated tone. That's why they're usually fine with speaking to the dead that approach them. You, though? You're a halfa. Halfas are obscenely rare, and spirits and ghosts don't understand them. Like humans, spirits tend to lash out at things they don't understand.

Danny pauses in his aggressive packing.

What Alvin said makes sense. As much as some deeply rooted pessimism wants to rear its ugly head and negate the ghost's words, Danny can't find it in him to argue. Maybe that's the 'Fenton Stubbornness' his mom grumbles about every once in a while, he's not sure.

But Danny is nothing if not open-minded, and he lets the last of his anger seep out with a short breath.

He keeps tucking his 'supplies' into his backpack alongside all his school essentials as he finally replies, "Okay. I see what you're saying. I mean, I'm still going to go," he ignores Alvin's sharp exclamation, "but I'll call Sam and Tucker. If I'm gonna do this, I might as well have some backup."

Alvin reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, then raises his head to stare at Danny with narrow, disapproving eyes. Teenagers are the worst.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Danny chuckles, zipping his backpack shut and slinging it over his shoulders. He swipes his phone off the nightstand, double-checks the charge, then tiptoes out of his room with a ghost in tow.

You shouldn't take that as a compliment. Honestly, you're shortening my lifespan by decades here.

"You're already dead."

You're still shortening my lifespan.

He makes a brief detour to the kitchen to stuff a few granola bars in his pocket, then pulls his shoes on and makes his way outside. When he's a good block away from the house, he pulls his phone out and searches for Tucker's contact info. The phone rings a handful of times, then clicks.

"Tuck? It's me-"

"You've reached the cellphone of the amazing Tucker Foley. I can't come to the phone right now because I'm probably designing a revolutionary new technology or lifting weights, but if you leave a message I'll call you back as soon as possible."

Danny actually listens to the answering message the full way through. He rarely does listen to answering machines, let alone leave a message, but this one is new and just ridiculous enough to hold his attention. When the message ends, he heaves a sigh and hangs up.

"Guess Tuck's asleep. I'll try Sam," Danny explains to Alvin, who still seems a bit peeved about the whole thing and doesn't reply.

He finds her number and taps the call button.

Sam picks up on the third ring.

"Oh, you're actually awake." Danny remarks.

A yawn on the other end of the line. "Am now. What's up?"

"Well, uh…" he pauses to collect his words, "...look, I'll just be honest here and say I'm going to break into the school to try talking to the spirit and seeing if we can reach an agreement of sorts."

The silence that follows is absolutely deafening, and Danny can very clearly picture the scowl that's definitely forming on Sam's face. The time seems to stretch an eternity and Danny's almost starting to think Sam's not going to answer at all. Finally though, she slowly says, "Not gonna insult your intelligence because that's mean, but I'm just gonna take a shot in the dark here and say you called me to come with you."

Danny nods although she clearly can't see him. "Yeah. I was gonna go alone, but Alvin yelled at me until I agreed to call you and Tuck. Tuck didn't answer, so I called you instead."

"Well, tell Alvin I'm proud of him for calling you out on your bullshit. And where are we meeting up?"

"You're in?"

"I'm in."

"Soooo… how are we gonna get in?" Sam asks as soon as they reach the back end of school grounds.

Danny reaches up to rub at his tired eyes, then awkwardly laughs, "I… I'm kinda winging it? I'm sure we can find a way to get in. I mean, I'm half spirit, after all."

"Unless you can walk through walls, disappear, and fly, I'm not very confident in our ability to get into the school," Sam groans as she once again finds herself regretting picking up her phone. "Speaking of weird stuff, what was up with the whole lightshow you had going on with your arms at my house? When my dead granddad grabbed you and threw you against a wall."

Shoes scuffing the dew-speckled grass, Danny pauses. As Sam watches him with one eyebrow cocked, curious to hear what he has to say, she feels a chill pass over her left side. It's more than a little unnerving to think about, but she knows it must be Alvin. She lets out an anxious breath and clutches her library book a little tighter.

Finally, Danny shrugs and glances at Sam with a confused look on his face. "I dunno. It's probably just some more weird spirit-y crap I have to figure out on my own. I hope it's not… bad. Or something."

They continue walking towards the school in tense silence, and Sam almost wishes she could see the paranormal like Danny does. Or at least sense it. Right now, she feels almost completely useless, navigating blind through a world she doesn't fully understand with one of her best friends awkwardly leading the way. It's frustrating.

Danny stops short, and Sam almost bumps directly into his back but catches herself moments before impact. She bites back a snarky remark, choosing instead to skirt around Danny to stand at his side. "What's up?"

For a few seconds, Danny's completely silent and his expression blank. Moments later, though, he blinks as though waking from a dream and glances at Sam with a vague smile. "Alvin's found a way in. C'mon!"

He breaks into a run before he's even finished speaking, leaving Sam to flounder for a few moments before she shakes herself and sprints after him. The slick grass below her combat boots makes it nerve-wracking and risky to run after Danny, but thankfully she manages to stay on her feet. When Danny skids ungracefully to a halt, almost falling flat on his face, Sam takes her time to slow her pace and cautiously reaches Danny's side just as he regains his balance. He takes a moment to check his jeans for grass stains, then lets out a huff of relief and approaches the red brick walls of Casper High.

It doesn't take long for him to find what he's looking for.

"Sam, help me out with this!" Danny stage-whispers over his shoulder as he kneels down.

Seeing as she doesn't have much of a choice, Sam blows a few stray hairs out of her face and draws closer to him. When she does notice what Danny's perched beside, she narrows her eyes and mutters, "You've got to be kidding me."

"What? It's big enough for us to fit through." he replies, banging a fist lightly against the ventilation grate secured to the wall.

Sam pinches the bridge of her nose. "Danny, the issue isn't whether or not we can, but whether or not we should. How in the hell are we gonna get in without making a racket or leaving evidence that we broke in like B-movie spies?!"

"Don't worry about it," Danny says with a dismissive wave of his hand before dropping his backpack on the ground and rifling through it. "Alvin says he can deal with it once we're inside."

"Real reassuring."

"Why do you have to be so pessimistic all the time?"

"I'm goth, Danny, it comes with the territory."

"That's fair."

Their banter breaks just long enough for Danny to seemingly find what he's looking for, and he pulls out a multi-tool with a vague exclamation of, "Aha!"

Sam… honestly has no idea what to say at this point. She merely watches in silent acceptance as Danny struggles to remove the rusty screws from the grate. It takes about fifteen minutes for Danny to remove the grate, judging by the passage of time blatantly staring at Sam from her watch.

When he carefully sets down the grate and slings his bag back over his shoulder, Danny glances at Sam. "Ready?"

"Not really, but we've come this far. Let's do it."

Danny leads the way into the old metal ventilation system, and after taking a moment to ask herself why she agreed to this, Sam crawls in after him. The grate somehow bangs shut behind her, which makes her jump. Other than the sound, though, she takes this in stride. Paranormal stuff is just par for the course at this point, no sense in freaking out over it.

They reach a few intersections during their stressful trip through the ducts, but Danny navigates the twists and turns as though they're nothing. He doesn't say anything, he just slinks ahead of Sam like some sort of alley cat, led along an invisible path.

It seems to take forever, but they finally find another grate leading down into the halls outside the cafeteria. Only now does Danny show any hesitation. For a few seconds, Sam sees tremors run through him like electricity, hears his breathing stutter and echo in the duct, feels anxiety radiating off him like a toxic cloud… but it ends more quickly than it started, and Danny sucks in a deep breath before shifting and slamming his foot down on the grate. It pops out and crashes to the floor below. Both Sam and Danny wince at the noise.

From there, they drop into the hall silently as the dead- more quietly than that, considering the dead do in fact speak- and creep up to the cafeteria doors. Danny pauses with one hand on the doorknob to glance back at Sam. "Hey."

"Sup?"

Rubbing anxious sweat from his forehead, Danny whispers, "Can you reach into my backpack and grab the salt that's there? We, uh, we might need it."

"Gotcha," Sam says with a nod.

Once she's got the box of salt in her hand, she zips up the backpack and gives Danny a reassuring smile. He returns it, although a bit nervously. When they've both gathered up their confidence, Danny lets out an anxious breath and pushes the cafeteria door open.

As soon as they cross into the empty room and the door shuts behind them, Sam begins to feel like something is watching them. An intense feeling of wrongness makes her head spin, her blood run cold, and her heart leap into her throat. It feels like ants creeping under her skin, like snakes coiling around her neck, like snow down the back of her shirt. Beside her, Danny isn't faring much better- sweat rolls down his face and neck and stains his shirt as he clenches his fists tightly enough for his nails to bite into his palms.

For a time, they just stand there, trying to quell their nerves and get used to the feeling of the spirit's energy pulsating throughout the room. After what could've been a heartbeat or an eternity, Danny takes a stiff step towards the kitchen. Then another. And another.

Sam flips the lid off the salt container and braces herself as she follows Danny in silence.

The early-morning sunlight paints the cafeteria a murky orange-tinted grey, and the light grows even dimmer when they climb over the counter into the windowless kitchen. Danny crosses first, then warily turns around to offer her a hand. She takes it, not about to let them get separated, not in a situation as precarious as this, and once her boots touch the tile floor, she gives Danny the best reassuring smile she can. This time, he doesn't return it. He probably can't.

In all honesty, Sam's surprised she managed to smile at him at all.

They move the few metres it takes to stand directly in the centre of the kitchen, and that's where they stop. Danny glances nervously at Sam, then clears his throat and calls, "H-hey, there. My name's Danny, and this is Sam. We, uh… we just wanted to talk."

It takes a while for anything out of the ordinary to happen, but when it does, Sam is utterly unprepared for it.

The shadows under the stoves, along the walls, against the counters, hell, even their own shadows begin to twist and flicker as though they have a life of their own, defying the dim light trying to burn its way into the kitchen. Sam feels a thrill of excitement and fear twist her stomach all sorts of ways, but she doesn't let it show on her face. Instead, she readies the salt and watches Danny for any kind of cue or signal.

"What do we want to talk about? Oh, um… I just… I have some objections to you wanting to eat me? An-and Sam does too. We were just wondering- and you totally don't have to take us up on this, I swear- but uh… we promise to leave you alone if-if you don't like… eat me?" Danny stammers in a shaking voice.

Then, out of completely nowhere, Sam hears a grating sound in her head.

Steel on ice, blades on slate, claws on brick. Death rattle, viper's hiss, wind through dead tree branches. A growl, snarl, sneer, cackle… laughter.

I can hear the spirit.

Sam doesn't have any time to ponder this, though. She barely has time to even recognize the odd noise in her head as a laugh before a crackling voice echoes in her skull and rattles her teeth. What a surprise. Being in the vicinity of a Halfa makes it easier for those on the second plane to interact with the first.

"Danny, I hear her," Sam hisses, hoping against all hope that he has an answer.

Though before he can even open his mouth, the air and shadows on the far end of the ovens twists, ripples, changes colour… and then Sam sees the vague form of the spirit towering above them.

It looks almost like the unholy offspring of a crocodile and a boar, if you'd never seen either of those animals before. Its eyes blaze red like bubbling magma, dripping down greenish-black cheeks and reflecting off four ice-white tusks. A mane of wiry white hair runs down its back to its scaly tail, and sharp claws scrape across the tile as it stalks out of the shadows on stumpy, reptilian legs. Its entire body is marred with ancient scars like craters and gouges on the moon's surface, and its entire form seems to be constantly changing like a flowing pool of bubbling tar.

It opens its mouth to let out a huff of breath, reeking of rotting meat and refuse, before it sneers in Sam's head again, I decline your terms, my dear. And you've not only brought yourself to me, but a second offering as well. How kind of you!

Danny juts a hand out to bar Sam's way, taking a step in front of her and putting himself between her and the spirit. And despite the way his entire body vibrates with terrified tremors, he doesn't move. "L-look, we… we don't want any trouble-"

Sam, my dear, how does it feel to know that your friend here is a monster?

"Danny's not a-" Sam begins, but the spirit takes a step closer and Danny and Sam take a step back.

I scare you, do I not? The spirit croons. Your friend is half of what I am. He merely chooses to go on living under the facade of humanity, but he belongs nowhere. The living will not understand him, and the dead will not accept him.

"Shut up!" Danny snaps viciously, more so than Sam even expected he was capable of. "I'm not a human, and I'm not a spirit, but I don't care. I'm just me, and I am so fucking tired of having dead things tell me I'm the weird one."

An overwhelming pressure fills the room in an instant, almost knocking Sam to her knees. She strains against the sudden weight, calling upon whatever physical strength she has in the deepest recesses of her body, and forces her head to raise. Danny's struggling against the pressure as well, his knees trembling with the effort, but he still holds his position between Sam and the spirit. It's pretty impressive, if Sam's honest.

INSOLENT BRATS. I AM CARO COMEDENTI, THE DEVOURER, AND I WILL NOT BE DEFIED.

The voice is deafening and sends shockwaves of pain rocketing through Sam's head, but somehow she manages to force herself to her feet and grab Danny's wrist. His head snaps around to look at her, and she shouts, "RUN!"

Danny doesn't need to be told twice, and they whirl around and make a break for the counter.

In retrospect, this was a horrible idea.

Alvin isn't around… he likely fled when the spirit, Caro-whatchamacallit, showed up and started talking. Which, Danny admits, is completely understandable and he's not going to yell at Alvin for it if he and Sam survive this.

As it is, he barely scrambles ungracefully over the lunch counter before the spirit violently smashes into it with a bellow of rage. Sam's hand is still wrapped tightly around his wrist, but Danny's not about to shake her off. Actually, she's probably the only reason he's still sane right now.

Behind them, Caro roars. Sam shoulders the cafeteria doors open so they can pass through, and only then does she let go of Danny's wrist. They don't slow their pace, shoes pounding on the linoleum and squeaking in protest as they round corners and change direction in a terrified frenzy.

The only issue is that human beings are much slower runners than animals, let alone spirits.

As such, despite the wild twists and turns they're making, Caro is definitely gaining on them.

Finally though, they slip up. Sam, ahead of Danny, makes a sharp right turn which he follows… and they both skid to a halt when the hall comes to a dead end, barred by locked doors. Sam hisses a curse, slamming on the doors in an effort to break through as Danny whirls around to face the spirit.

The thunderous sound of Caro rampaging down the hallways subsides into slow, menacing footfalls. Her claws scrape against the floor, her breath comes in ominous huffs, and a low, rumbling growl makes Danny feel like his chest is being crushed. And then she appears, standing still and barring their only escape. Her face contorts in an eerily-human grin as she slowly approaches.

Danny's heart pounds so hard in his chest he feels like it's about to explode. In his ears, he hears his blood roaring with his pulse, minute tremors run through him in waves, and he feels an adrenaline high trying to overpower his terror. He… he has no fucking clue what to do.

"S-Sam?" Danny manages to force out through his unresponsive lips.

She stops banging on the door with a defeated hiss. Then, she lets out a humorless laugh and remarks, "Well, this isn't how I pictured this going."

"Maybe I should've stayed in bed," Danny sighs, still watching as Caro draws nearer.

"You kidding? This is a hardcore way to die, man. Tucker's missing out."

SILENCE, PREY. YOU ARE GRATING ON MY NERVES.

Though as Caro draws nearer, Danny feels the gears in his mind slowly beginning to turn over and over. His eyes drift to the box of salt in Sam's hand, then to Caro, and the gaps on either side of her that should be wide enough for them to slip through. Danny blinks, eyes growing wide with dawning realization.

Under his breath, he whispers, "Sam. I have an idea. Gimme the salt."

Sam shoots him an incredulous look, hesitating just for a moment, then gives him a subtle nod and offers it to him. He measures out the distance between them and the spirit using the tiles on the floor, and while he's never been great at math, he doesn't need to be to figure this out. When Caro draws within ten tiles' distance from them, Danny makes his move.

With a sudden shout, he lunges forward, flipping the lid off the box and flinging the salt in a wide arc directly towards Caro.

Wherever the substance hits the spirit, her skin hisses and bubbles, not unlike a severe burn, and she lets out a deafening bellow that leaves Danny's ears ringing. He tosses more salt directly in her eyes, whipping his head around to shout at Sam, "SAM, RUN!"

She doesn't need to be told twice, immediately breaking into a dead sprint and sliding past Caro through the narrow gap she'd made in her frenzied dance away from the salt Danny had thrown. Once she's clear, Danny throws the empty salt box at Caro and makes a move to race after Sam. And he's almost sure they're in the clear…

...when Caro recovers and whirls around. Danny doesn't make it around the corner in time.

Caro's uneven, crocodilian teeth snap around Danny's left leg, sinking into his skin like a hot knife through butter, and pain like nothing he's ever felt explodes in his leg. He can't help the scream that rips itself free of his throat as he falls to the ground and is slowly dragged back by Caro. However, seconds after his blood starts dripping everywhere, Caro screeches in what sounds like pain and drops him to stagger backwards.

Danny forces himself to roll onto his back and prop himself up on his hands, staring through watering eyes at Caro. By then, Sam's doubled back and is sliding across the floor to Danny's side, a grounding hand on his shoulder.

BY ALL THE PLANES, WHAT IS THIS?!

Caro's coughing, retching, foaming at the mouth, spitting desperately… and Danny's not sure why. Her form flickers and shimmers, reshaping into something unrecognizable- until it is.

Where Caro had previously been a massive beast, she's now a sweet-looking ghost, wearing similar clothing to the lunch ladies who currently work at Casper High. She's yelling in pain and anger, still wiping desperately at her mouth, which now looks like it's been burned with hot oil.

What the-?!

Danny doesn't have time to think about it too hard, because she turns her burning red glare on him and black smoke billows from her lips. Sam grips his shoulder tighter, and despite the fact that she's definitely terrified, she glares daggers right back at the ominously-approaching spirit in a way that would be comical if, you know, they weren't in mortal danger.

Yet before she can get within striking distance, there's a sound like a light breeze through windchimes and the air between them and the spirit shimmers with soft white light.

The ghost from the bathroom materializes out of thin air.

It's a boy about their age, perhaps a year or two younger, wearing incredibly dated clothes with his hair parted directly down the middle. Danny can't see the kid's expression, but he's sure it's probably not a happy one.

Back off, you bully!

STEP ASIDE, GHOST BRAT, Caro snarls, THIS IS NONE OF YOUR CONCERN.

It is when innocent people are in danger!

Then, with a swift movement of the boy's right hand, he draws an odd symbol in the air in front of him. The symbols he drew become visible, glowing silver moments before they flash brilliantly white and Caro howls in anger. When the light fades, Caro is gone.

The ghost turns to face them then, face tired. I'll explain in a minute. First, let's get your leg fixed up. It looks like it hurts.

"How am I gonna explain this to my- OW!" Danny's sentence is cut off when Sam dabs the deep puncture wounds with peroxide.

Sam swats him on the knee with the back of her hand, snapping, "Stop moving!"

"It's a bit hard when you've been bit by an actual demon," Danny shoots back, but takes a breath and rubs at his eyes with a hand. "Sorry. That was kinda rude."

"Yeah, it was," Sam quips as she goes back to cleaning the bite around his shin, "But you get a free pass today since you're under a lot of stress. Don't make it a habit."

With the last sentence, she shoots Danny a mischievous look that loosens a knot in his chest. He heaves a sigh and tries to relax so she can continue treating his injury.

The ghost had led them into a rarely-used broom closet where Sam and Danny now sit facing one another. The ghost hovers above them and a bit to the back of the closet, his white eyes wide as he shoots an anxious glance between the two of them. He wrings his fingers together nervously, as though he wants to say something but isn't sure if he should.

After a few minutes of this, Danny heaves a sigh and looks to the ghost. "Thanks for saving us back there. We'd be goners if you hadn't come in when you did."

"There's a ghost in here?" Sam asks all of a sudden, and Danny once again remembers that he's the only one who can see them. He nods.

"Y-yeah, he's the one who made the spirit disappear." He blinks, turning to look at him again. "How'd you do that, anyways?"

The ghost startles, hesitating for a few moments before haltingly replying, I, um. I made a Ward.

"What's a Ward?"

A Ward is like… I guess in human terms, it's like a magic charm? It can send spirits and ghosts away for a time, and you can use them to protect yourself and prevent spirits and ghosts from entering your home. Anyone can learn to use them: humans, ghosts, spirits, he shoots a meaningful glance at Danny, Halfas…

Gesturing with one hand, Danny interjects, "Wait, wait, wait. I've been hearing that word thrown around like crazy, what's it mean? What's a Halfa?"

Sam seems to be trying to focus exclusively on treating Danny's leg, probably not bothering to listen to the only half of the conversation she can hear, which is just fine with Danny. He can explain the conversation later.

A Halfa is a creature that's not bound to only one plane of existence. You're half-human and half-spirit. You're alive but can use the abilities of the dead. Half and half. Hence the name. Halfa.

"Okay. That makes a lot more sense. I was worried it was, like, an insult or something." Danny sighs, which makes the ghost let out a small, awkward laugh.

No, no, it's not an insult. If it was, I wouldn't be calling you one. He drops his gaze. I'm not a huge fan of… violence, or unkindness.

"Oh, good. You won't try killing me like almost every other spirit and ghost out there," he jokes, which makes the ghost look at him with an earnest expression.

Actually, the bad ones are in the minority. The only reason you only meet bad ones is because they're not welcome in their home realm.

Danny doesn't really have a response to that, instead letting out a heavy sigh and leaning back against the dusty wall. "Jeez, this is a hell of a lot to take in."

Sorry if I'm overwhelming you, I just haven't really been able to talk to anyone properly in… in a really long time.

"No, it's fine. I'm just not used to this whole 'there's more than one plane of existence and all the things I was skeptical about are real' thing, y'know? I'm just processing." He looks back at the ghost again, this time with a smile. "I'm Danny, by the way. That's Sam. She can't see or hear you, but she's glad you helped us."

Sam doesn't look up from wrapping a bandage around Danny's leg as she quips, "Still not used to the ghost thing, but you're cool."

At her words, the ghost's face absolutely lights up, and the pale white glow radiating off him intensifies just a touch. It's endearing, in a weird sort of way.

It-it's nice to meet you both! My name is Sidney. Sidney Poindexter!