Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. I never will.
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It was an ominous, stormy day. The grey clouds lashed out their fury on what ever target they could find unsheltered, unmercily whipping around the trees that looked like small blades of grass under a lawnmower.
"No one, that is, no one with half a mind would go out in that weather", thought Jazz as she sipped piping hot tea while doing her homework. Her father, Mr. Fenton, was watching television while her mother worked on another contraption to catch ghosts. She strained at a screw that wouldn't fit just right. Finally she stopped and looked at her husband.
"You know, I could use a little help here." Mr. Fenton sighed and got up off of the blue leather couch. He picked up the remote to turn off the TV, then stopped short. His jaw fell to the ground.
"Hurricane? here?" Jazz looked up, shocked. Mr. Fenton just pointed at the television screen.
"There appears to be a hurricane sweeping over our city! This was extremely unexpected, therefore we want everyone to please take shelter. The worst is yet to come."
Mr Fenton grinned. "This will be the perfect time for capturing ghosts! Since it is a hurricane, ghosts will be out in this stormy weather, haunting places with their eerie noises and-"
"Didn't you hear him right?" Jazz asked him, worried. "We need to take shelter! I just hope Danny gets home soon."
"Jazz?"
"Yeah?"
"Where do people usually take refuge in a storm?"
"Uh, their basement, usually. Why...?" Her father's grin got bigger.
"Well, what do we have IN the basement?" Jazz sweatdropped.
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The fourteen year old boy pulled his raincoat over his jet black hair. The rainwater was still getting over his face and hair, dripping off the ends. He sighed. "I sure hope Sam and Tucker got home safe. This storm looks bad, real bad." He walked faster, but being careful not to slip on the wet grass. He had taken a trail through the woods to his home, so he would be there faster. Only he and his friends knew of the trail, at least, to their knowledge. The rain beat down harder. It seemed that every minute it was getting more intense. He walked faster, and faster, finally breaking into a run. In an instant, he could not see the way. "Oh, which way is it? I wish this rain would clear up!" He finally broke out into a breakneck speed. but he did not see the ditch in front of his way...
"Ow!" He yelped in pain, grabbing his ankle. "Danny, you idiot! You should have gone home the normal way, and not run so fast!" He tried to move his foot, but winced as doing so. He got on his remaining foot and started to crawl, but stopped. The befuddled boy still could not see anything. "Even if I did know, the way, I couldn't get home." He peered into the sheet of rain. Something dark and large was looming out at him. "A house," he thought. "I could get someone there to help me." Danny inched himself forward, trying to keep off his sore foot. Minutes, hours, he didn't know the difference. All he knew was that it was hell getting there, and he wasn't about to turn back. Danny got on his good knee and reached the doorknob, he opened it and crawled in. He lay on the floor and panted. "That... was..." he stopped short. His surroundings... this was not a house. It was an old, beat up shack that somebody probably used as a storage room... back in 1957. The poorly laid down wood was rotting, and there was dust everywhere that there wasn't a leak dripping on. Spiders had made it their paradise. Danny didn't care. All he knew was that he was tired, and before he knew it, he was unconscious.