Well, here we are.
My story is finally coming to an end. It feels as though it were just yesterday that I posted it on hoping that others would have some appreciation for my work. I'm just so touched that so many of you think I'm a good writer...
I'm sorry, I'm getting sentimental over this.
Anyway, as I said before, this is the last chapter of my fanfic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy reading it.
See if you can guess what the title means, if you want. Go ahead! Guess!
Chapter Thirteen: Vincit qui patitur
It was near impossible to see through the heavy rain. The stadium lights had gone out, the sun had went down, and a sheet of heavy mist seemed to be rolling in. The only sources of illumination were the crackling conduits of the ghost shield, the occasional lightning strike, and the soft glowing auras of the two ghosts in the middle of the football field; the ones that over five hundred spectators were watching a la the Roman gladiatorial games of old.
Danny didn't know why the people weren't running from the fight, as they usually did. They just stood there, spellbound by the presence of the two specters, not caring about the rain, the lightning, or a thing in the world.
His eyes darted over to the Opera Ghost, who floated at eye level with Danny about fifteen feet away. The ghost was little more than a hazy outline, raindrops splattering over his finely tailored clothing, the hat being the only thing keeping it out of his mismatched eyes. He looked a lot like a fuzzy television image.
"What did you do to them?" shouted Danny over the downpour.
"They are merely victims of a Svengali/Tribly hypnotic trance," replied Erik, his voice raised ever so slightly to be audible. "But you should worry about your own fortunes, my boy."
The Opera Ghost's had began to glow with green light, making his form a bit more clear. The ectoplasmic energy began to expand and shape at a rapid rate, and less than a second later, it had formed into what looked like a cris-crossing net-like structure, glowing green in the rain.
Suddenly, the net flew at Danny like a fist, then pulled downwards to the field, smashing the ghost-boy into the mud. He soon realized that this was more akin to a portcullis grate on a heat duct than a net, as it felt like cold metal as it pressed him into the mud.
"Alright," Danny grunted as his ribs burned. "Just why are you doing all this? It doesn't make any sense!"
It was then that a slight, dull pain began to affect Danny's neck, but he bade it no mind.
"If I told you," said Erik, "then you'd be proving that you weren't as clever as me!"
Lightning cracked overhead, creating a menacing silhouette as Danny's enemy lowered himself to the ground, maintaining his pin. Gasps and murmurs came from the crowd.
"However," he continued, "you might be owed an explanation. You see, in exchange for my services as an inventor and confidant, Penelope Spectra offered me what I've always wanted: a normal face and a normal life.
"I had many things that mortal men desire: fortune, immortality, power beyond their wildest dreams. Yet, all this was possible only after I had faded out of the mortal world, and therefore a Pyrrhic victory at best. I never again would get the chance to make my impact on the world that my parents foolishly discarded; and the impact my memory made: the one of an insane, disfigured composer, was incredibly sub-par.
"And then Spectra invited me to dinner..."
Danny tuned out of this little story for a few seconds. The pain in the back of his head was growing at a steady rate, as was the burning in his ribs. Mud began to seep through the orifices of the grate, beginning to encase his outer extremities. He was cold, wet, and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep from exhaustion.
"She got me a job in this school," continued Erik, "and showed me the perfect subject to drain: you. For once in my life, I had everything going for me. Everything! All I needed to do was provide Penny with a steady supply of misery with my music. And while I was at it, I could take my vengeance upon those who have wronged me.
"An idea came to me at that point. What would be better than murdering the man who stole my music box? Murdering his daughter, Sam Manson."
Danny's eyes shot open, all pain becoming numb. His eyes began to glow green with anger, his teeth grinding together. With one swift movement, he broke the grate, producing a sound like the shattering of glass and sending Erik flying into the mud. This excited a cheer from the crowds, who were in no way panicking.
"You let her go!" he yelled above the noise of the rain.
The Opera Ghost got back up, his cloak splattered with mud. "That was uncalled for!"
He formed a glowing green rapier in his hand, adopting a fighting stance as he squared his feet in the mud. Danny unzipped the backpack, taking out the staff-like weapon that Maddie had used in the Rocky Mountains a few months ago. He ignited the staff, and both flew up onto the football goals, holding their footing precariously.
"Face it, Phantom!" exclaimed the Opera Ghost. "You can't escape from my wrath, you can't save your friend, and you can't best my genius! You're a freak of nature!"
Danny smiled, the pain in his head becoming more severe. "This coming from a guy who has to wear a mask?"
Lightning clashed and thunder rumbled as Erik lunged, swinging his ecto-sword at the ghost-boy. With immense desperation, Danny managed to parry his blows, leaping over Erik's head and causing his sword to break on the goalpost. Both whirled around, lightning illuminating them as the crowd gave a cheer.
The pain in Danny's head now became immense, causing him to grasp his head in anguish. Erik charged forward, snapping the staff in half with a kick and knuckling the ghost-boy in his already bruised ribs. Danny felt the urge to vomit, but shook it off as he fell to the mud, his opponent landing a few feet away. For a second, he thought that he had heard the noise of an electric scooter over the rain and thunder.
"You're only deluding yourself," snarled Erik. "You have less than half of the power than you had the last time we fought, your ribs are bruised, and you're about to bleed from the inside in a few minutes. Your little plan was flawed from the–"
A blur raced past as Danny fell to the ground. He got up, clutching his sides, to see Sam clothesline Erik, sending him into the goalpost. She swerved around to Danny, a look of utter worry on her face.
"Danny," she cried. "You're still alive!"
O.G. was just getting up, yet a second later, he doubled over in pain; green sparks began to fly out from around him. Danny found what the source was very quickly:
Sam had attached the Specter-Deflector to Erik's waist.
Danny flew into Erik's stomach, sending him reeling into one of the photovoltaic panels that powered the ghost shield. His body erupted into a shower of white and green sparks as his scream could be heard echoing across the stadium. The conduits of pseudo-electricity fizzled out, the lights of the stadium came back on, and the crowd seemed to come out of its stupor, panicking and rushing for the nearest exits.
Erik fell into the mud, twitching from the power surge he had just gone through.
Sam chimed in with a small smile: "There's a 'french fry' pun in this somewhere, but I'd rather not."
Danny turned to Sam; her eyes were still worrisome despite her smile.
"Sam?" he asked, breathing heavily. "What did you mean by 'I'm still alive'?"
"Spectra said that Erik gave you an aneurism when the sucked out your energy. That you'll die in a few minutes..." Her eyes welled up with tears, and she hugged Danny. "I don't want to lose you! You're my best friend!"
Danny didn't even have time to digest this information when a glowing green lasso lashed around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled over five stories up, away from the ground and his friend. He looked up to find Erik, twitching and smoking, holding the other end of the rope, glaring down at Danny with eyes full of hatred.
"You think you've won?" he wheezed. "Once Spectra and Bertrand set off those explosives, your friend will be vaporized along with half of Amity Park! And before you die, I'll drain you of every last bit of energy, and make your last moments alive incredibly painful!" He erupted into a cackle that made Danny shiver.
Then, the ghost-boy got an idea. He grasped the glowing rope with both hands and shouted:
"GO GHOST STINGER!"
Green energy from Erik's end of the line had begun to crawl towards Danny when his pseudo-electric attack forced it back. The lasso whipped around the ghost's arm, electrocuting him with great force. As ecto-lightning crackled around his body, Erik's eyes lost their green glow, his skin became pale and gaunt, and his face seemed to surge and boil away.
Danny felt empowered. His head no longer split with pain; he no longer had to struggle to keep in midair; he had his powers back!
Erik fell towards the bleachers, crumpling upon impact. When Danny landed on the ground, he saw his adversary, surrounded by Jazz and Tucker, strung up by his ankles with his own Punjab lasso. His transparent face was in full view, utterly grotesque in appearance:
He had no skin on the right side; just a transparent film that revealed bone and green muscles with little, pulsating veins. He had no nose to speak of, merely a gaping, skull-like hole. His lips were grossly malformed and bloodless, his darker eye sunken into the socket.
"NOOOO!" he screamed as the two teens approached him. "MY FACE! MY BEAUTIFUL, MAN-PRETTY FACE!"
The sight was almost too much for Danny as he fell into unconsciousness...
"Danny?"
He blearily opened his eyes. He saw his sister staring back down at him.
"Danny, are you alright?" she asked.
He sat up, finding that he was in his room, clutching his sides as his ribs began to sting again. Jazz was sitting by his bed, Sam and Tucker standing behind her.
"Yeah," he said. "What happened?"
"Uh...Mom and Dad said that they found you inside the giant ghost-shield after the light post was knocked down. You were unconscious." Jazz seemed as though she knew something that no one else did, but Danny put it off to the combat stress.
"Now then," his sister continued. "I'll go get your dinner, okay?" With that, she walked out of the room. Danny turned to Tucker and Sam.
"What happened to Erik and Spectra?"
"Right here," Tucker said, brandishing the Fenton Thermos. "And not looking too good, thanks to Jazz. I'll go shove them back into the Ghost Zone. You know; give you two a moment of privacy." He smiled as he walked out of the room, leaving Sam and Danny alone.
"Uh..." Sam began. "About what I said back there..."
"It's okay," Danny replied with a grin. "I might have done the same thing."
Sam walked over to the dresser, taking an enormous, bound manuscript and her velvet-lined music box over to the bed.
"I found this in the music room after we got back from the bunker. Lancer said that I could keep it, seeing as how he knows about O.G. He saw the entire thing when he was in the teacher's box in the stadium. He and about five hundred others thought you were really something with your sword-fighting and all."
Danny flipped through the manuscript. It contained many different songs, all written in faded, red ink and signed by Erik. Sam stopped him at a song titled Don Juan Triumphant.
"That's the song the box plays," she said. To demonstrate, she opened it up, letting its hauntingly beautiful notes fill the room. It made Danny forget all about the pain in his ribs for a moment; let him think about things he liked. And enjoy them.
"I feel a lot better," he sighed. "Thanks, Sam."
Sam smiled. That meant a lot.
Not even the appearance of the Box Ghost could ruin this moment.
"I am the Box Ghost!" he shouted dramatically. "And I shall now claim this box of music as my own!"
Danny casually blasted the annoying little spirit out of the air. He shrunk back.
"Uh...beware!" And he flew through the wall.
"Now I feel even better," said Danny.
Sam gave a wry smile. "I'll bet you do."
The End.
It's done! After all this time, it's finally done!
I feel so much better. I've now successfully published my first piece of fanfiction! I am now high on life!
Read and review please! Let me know how I did!
Goodbye, everybody!
Your sincerest regards,
Monsieur Caracal.