Gracious thanks to Tailfeather and The Phantom, my ever-faithful reviewers. I'm very happy you've continued reading and reviewing this far, and I hope it was enjoyable for you.
This is it, the final chapter.da da DUM Afterroughly two months of editing and posting this peice, chapterby chapter, it's done. I'm glad it got the responses it did, and made people laugh. I hope whoever's reading this enjoys the ending. Have a wonderful New Year!
The End of the Ghost's Story
Ten minutes later, Martha, the Phantom and the three Brotherhood members were all seated around the kitchen table, polishing off a large plate of assorted sandwiches. The Phantom's tuxedo jacket was draped over the back of his chair, and with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie stuffed in his back pocket, he looked less like an ominous figure and more like the skinny teen he was.
"So exactly how long have you been living in our house?" Lance asked the Phantom, being the first one to speak since the sandwiches had been set down on the table. "And for that matter, how did you get inside in the first place?"
"I've been here about eight or nine days." The Phantom replied, licking grape jelly off his fingers. "I broke in through a downstairs window late one evening, looking for a place to sleep. I snuck upstairs, hid my stuff in the attic, then crept around the house to make sure it was safe."
"This house ain't never safe." Todd muttered, nibbling on a piece of bread crust. "We got earthquakes, explosions, huge winds--"
"And toad slime all over the walls!" The Phantom laughed. "Believe me, I noticed everything within the first half-hour. But I liked you guys. You were funny, and interesting to watch. Plus, you were mutants. Like me."
"So you are a mutant!" Lance said.
"Yes. And I decided to stay here, among people like me. I actually didn't come up with the fridge-note idea for a couple of days. Only after I'd made a few trapdoors, and discovered that it would be easier to have you deliver food to me than for me to sneak around the house in the dead of night. You all sleep way too light."
"Yeah. We do." Fred smiled, pausing in his annihilation of a ham and mustard sandwich.
"You're not from Bayville, are you?" Martha said. The Phantom shook his head.
"No."
"From where, then?"
"The Midwest."
"Really? That's far." Todd said.
"Yes. Yes it is."
"Is it your folk's fault that you're all the way over here on the east coast, hidin' in other people's attics?" Lance asked. "Did your parents kick you out for being different?"
"My parents did not kick me out." The Phantom replied coolly. "They never realized what I was. Soon as I found out I had powers, I kept them a secret. It was easy."
"Just what are your powers, anyway?" Lance said, giving the Phantom a suspicious look.
"Persuasion." The Phantom said. "I have powers of persuasion. My vocal cords are abnormal…I can do almost anything with my voice. I can change my tone to suit my will, I can mimic anyone I choose, perfectly. And if I pitch my voice a certain way, whoever I speak to will do as I bid. That's the Phantom's voice."
"Like when you spoke to Freddy in the third floor hallway." Lance said.
"Bingo. I told him to let me go, and he let me go."
"Yeah. And I didn't even think about it." Fred said, furrowing his brow as he thought back on what had happened. "I just did it."
"Is that what you did with the fan?" Martha said. "You told it to drop, and it dropped?"
"Not exactly." The Phantom said. "I can't really tell inanimate objects what to do. But if I try hard enough, I can sort of...push them to do what I want. And quite frankly, your fan was going to drop sooner or later anyway. The plaster on the ceiling was rotting, though I don't think you noticed. There were too many stains on the ceiling already to distinguish it. So it was easy to make the fan come loose."
"And presumably, this power also provides you with the abilities of a ventriloquist." Martha said.
The Phantom smiled. "I'm an excellent ventriloquist." He said. "But that power I had to perfect. I had to be properly taught."
"And who taught you to perfect it?" Alex asked.
"A circus performer."
"A circus performer?" Fred looked confused.
"Yes. There was this circusvisiting my town, and they had a hypnotist. I snuck into his tent after the show, thinking it would be funny to see if I could hypnotize him with my voice. But it turns out I couldn't...because he was a mutant too."
"Really?" Todd asked.
"Really. His name was Mesmero. And after he blocked my voice control, he sat me down and we started talking. He'd never seen someone with powers so similar to his own, and he offered to take me on as an apprentice."
"And you accepted?" Lance asked.
"How could I not? My life at home had grown dull. I was tired of working my family like puppets. Making my little brothers sit in a closet for four hours straight without speaking was certainly fun...but telling my parents over and over that nothing was different about me, ordering them to forget about my odd behavior and stop questioning me, that was hardly enjoyable. And there weren't any other mutants anywhere nearby, none that I saw, at any rate. No one else was like me."
"So you left with the circus." Martha said.
"I did. I ordered everyone at home not to miss me or be worried about me, then I left."
"But if you're here, then where's the circus?" Lance asked.
"The circus is headed this way, I know their route goes through this town." The Phantom said. "But I am no longer a part of it. Mesmero taught how to use my powers to their greatest potential, but he was a devious, untrustworthy person. He spoke maniacally of Armageddon, he talked in his sleep to some powerful lord. From his mad ramblings I learned that he served another mutant, a powerful one."
The Phantom's face grew serious.
"I learned this, and I did not like the sound of it. Not only was my Master insane, he served a greater creature. And never shall I play lackey to a lackey. So I chose to leave, and be my own Master."
Sighing, the Phantom leaned back in his chair.
"That was a month ago. Since then I've wandered homeless, heading for the ocean. I haven't had an easy time, though my powers have made it easier than it would be for normal runaways. But living in this house was probably the best thing ever to happen to me."
"Well, you can stay here if you want to." Fred offered.
"Really? I can stay?" The Phantom said, raising an eyebrow.
"He can stay?" The two other boys echoed.
"Sure." Fred said cheerfully. He looked at Lance and Todd. "I mean, it's not like we actually use the third floor. And it would be nice to have someone here able to keep Boom-boom in line."
"I suppose I might stay." The Phantom said. "I may not, though. I don't like the idea of getting caught up in any of your fights, petty or otherwise. Now that you've found me out, you'd be asking for my help."
Lance scowled. "That's an arrogant thing to say."
The Phantom grinned. "I suppose it is. But you must admit, I've got a point."
"Yeah, you do." Todd said.
Martha raised her finger.
"I got just one more question, dude." She said, smiling slightly. "What's your real name?"
The Phantom looked surprised for a moment, the returned the smile.
"Christopher." He said.
Suddenly, Pietro rushed into the room.
"Hello insects!" He said brightly, stopping short at the fridge. Hand a blur, Pietro opened the door, reached inside, pulled out a bottle of Sprite and took a swig. Turning around, he observed the faces sitting at the table.
"And hello there." The speedster said, catching Martha's eye, his voice still fast, but slowed down at exactly the right point to make him sound seductive
Martha looked confused. "Um, hi."
Fred rolled his eyes. Pietro always insisted on attracting the attention of strange girls, no matter who they were.
"Guess what Pietro?" Lance said, smirking. "While you were gone, we discovered who the intruder in the attic was!"
"Yeah!" Todd said, pointing at Christopher. "It's him. And he may be sticking around to live in our attic!"
"I see." Pietro said, smiling. "So this is the one who was pretending to be Erik?"
"What?" Lance stiffened, his eyes widening. "You know about the Phantom of the Opera?"
"Yeah, I read that book about a year ago. "Pietro said. "Written by Gaston Leroux, right? You know, it was pretty obvious there was a Phantom in our attic. Notes in red ink on the fridge, fans falling like chandeliers...easy to figure out."
"But...but.." Lance spluttered. "Why didn't you tell us you knew about this?"
"Well," Pietro smirked. "You never asked."
And with that, Pietro zipped out of the room and up the stairs.
There was a very long silence. A vein was throbbing on Lance's forehead, and he looked like he was about to explode. Freddy's left eye was also twitching.
"Lance?" Todd said softly, sounding miserable. "Lance, he's too fast. We can't catch him."
"DEEEEAAAAATTTTTHHHH!!!!!!!" Lance screamed, knocking over his chair and racing out of the kitchen and up the stairs, hell-bent on causing severe damage to Quicksilver's person.
Fred, just as angry (though not as psychotic), raced after Lance, bellowing threats. And Todd had no choice but to follow, hopping after them as he whimpered, the irony of the situation consuming him.
All was silence in the kitchen. Only Christopher and Martha remained seated.
"Sooo...how's your day been?" Martha said, attempting to make small talk.
"Not bad. I had fun."
"Me too. Even with the near-death experience." Martha fingered the thin mark on her arm, from which the redness was slowly fading.
"I truly am sorry about that."
"I know. It's okay."
There was a moment of awkward silence. Suddenly, Martha brightened.
"You know, I got my allowance this morning, and I was thinking about going to the arcade at the mall. You play ski ball?"
"I dabble." Christopher said.
"Well, I can teach you to play like a pro, if you want. It's all in the wrist movement. And there's lots of other fun games there too. Table hockey, pinball, claw machines, virtual water skiing...even a DanceDance Revolution game."
The Phantom's ears perked up at this last comment. "Really?"
"Yeah. You wanna go? We can get ice cream afterwards, and maybe see a movie."
"Sounds like fun!" Christopher smiled, standing up. "I'm in."
"Great!"
As the Phantom pulled on his jacket, Martha grabbed her fez off the floor and stuffed it into her backpack. Unhurriedly, the two made their way out of the kitchen and into the main hallway.
"After you."
"No, after you. I insist."
And as insane laughter and shouts of rage emanated from the second floor, the two teens walked out the door.
The End
And so it was that the fanfic was finished, and the canon of X-Men: Evolution was harmed as little as possible. For Christopher did not stay in the Boardinghouse, but went to live in Martha's basement, since after an entire weekend of arcade games, eating pizza and watching movies, they had become fast friends. So these two OCs disappeared as quickly as they had come, and the author left the canon almost as flawless as it had been before she arrived. Yay! :D