Disclaimer: As is the case, I do not own Danny Phantom or the main cast of DP would no longer be a group of freshman but probably out into college already or at least two grades older and this plotline would have probably already aired. However, Alexander is of my creation.

Author's Note: This is a prequel to my oneshot fiction, The Ghost of You, leading up from about month to three days before it. Please review honestly because I want to know what you think.

Only The Good…

Chapter 1

The Devil Himself

He stands there stock still in the midnight air, the darkness of a new moon almost completely shrouding him in a layer of the pitch. There is no silver sky tonight, no blanket of stars igniting the heavens in glorious harmony to form their various constellations, no man in the moon. Nothing exists in that sky of the witching hour, just the deceptive veil of shadows that danced around him in perfect unison.

"Can't you feel it?" He asks, his darkly esoteric words echoing through the thick, foggy veil into the deepest reaches of the night. In the distance, the sound of police sirens chasing their newest prey races through the atmosphere, nestling itself in their ears like an ethereal symbiote. "Can't you just feel it!"

Even in the dark obscurity she can still make out the twisted, sickeningly melancholy grin plastered on his face, his crooked, pointed teeth shining through the thick shade like twenty-nine glimmering daggers driven into some poor victim's flesh. His smile is like that of a rotting corpse, a truly horrifying sight to even the stoutest of individuals but that is part of his mystique, part of who he is known as being. He is not supposed to resemble the embodiment of goodness, not supposed to have a beautifully stunning smile complimented by soft eyes, not supposed to look like something out of a damsel in distress movie. He is the face of unabated sickness; there is no way to dispute that fact.

"What exactly is it that I'm supposed to feel, Mr. Miaji?" She asks, despising the fact that she even has to be in the same state as vile cur like him but it is what she is getting paid for. Even so, the desire to put one between his eyes and just walk away was almost overwhelming. She would have to control herself hard just not to kill him.

"The fear! THE BLOODY FUCKING FEAR!" He shouts, throwing his arms into the air as though he is trying to grasp some invisible being floating just above his reach. The putrid stench that emanates from him is almost unbearable, a reeking scent of formaldehyde and blood mixed with cigarette smoke and heavy booze. She almost staggers when it hits her nose, completely smothered by the god-forsakenly foul odor. "It's so bloody stagnant in the air tonight! It festers and clings to the atmosphere, choking at the two realms with spidery claws! CAN'T YOU JUST FEEL IT!"

Her trigger finger is itching almost uncontrollably now as she feels the smooth contours along the handle of her silenced Type D 9000S Beretta, tucked away cleanly in the small of her back. One quick twitch of her arm, one cleanly placed shot and she would be rid of this damnable cur once and for all. Yet she still refuses to yield to that desire. After all, she is doing her job; she is a good soldier.

"Pay attention, Alexander!" She says, her voice dripping with the utmost, irrepressible hatred for him. Her ice blue eyes rage with the intensity of an out of control forest fire now as she shoots a piercing gaze straight through the obscuring darkness, burning a path to his own ebon pupils. He smiles even more broadly and psychopathically at this, apparently delighted at the anger that she is only barely restraining beneath the unusually calm façade she puts on constantly and unceasingly for the hell of a world that she serves so eloquently.

"Oh me, oh my. I think that I've gone and upset the little lady." He says aloud, his sickening smile growing ever more wide with each passing millisecond, reflecting the heinous glee he takes from seeing her squirm and have to fight herself. "Well then, I had better make the nice lady happy again, shouldn't I." He takes a step towards her, that damn menacing smile of his still covering the lower half of his face.

She pulls out the gun, leveling it instantly at the small space between his two ebon eyes with a smile as her right index tightens around the trigger.

"Now, you're going to pay attention or my employer wake up with a body bag filled with rotting flesh and hydrochloric acid setting on his office floor tomorrow morning. Guess who the stiff will be." At this, he stops stock still again, the diabolical grin on his face gone for the moment. She cannot help but smile as he finally submits to her control, the rage and hatred for her evident in his eyes for ruining his bit of fun. "Now, we have a target for you and I do believe it happens to be one of your favorite types of prey. As usual, you get to name your price but only in monetary reward."

At this, his gaze seems to glaze over with that same demonic sense of happiness it had only moments earlier when he was taking the time to unnerve her. "A ghost… Another fucking ghost." He says with a smile.

"Correct." She says, the fire behind her eyes being replaced with a cold sort of calculating sickness, infecting the world around her. "For the last four years now, he has been acting as a sort of one man spectral policing unit in Amity Park along with the rest of his family, who happen to be the world renown authority on paranormal activity in the world of the living, despite the fact their ghost detection skills are pathetic at best. My employer believes that this 'half-breed' could eventually put an end to the unrest in the spectral realm, a prospect that unnerves him greatly."

"Who is my victim?" He asks, finally getting down to business.

"One Danny Fenton, alias Danny Phantom." She answers, handing him a small manila dossier that was almost invisible in the eclipsing darkness that covered the area. "Now, take note that this is a shadow kill. Operate only when you will go undetected until the body is discovered. No screw ups or your reward will be nothing more than a trip to the other side of the portal."

He only smiles as he turns and disappears into the darkness, the foul stench that encompassed him following like his cloud of cigarette smoke. After a minute, she finally slides her pistol back down the small of her back and pulls out her cell phone, quickly dialing the number to her half-ghost sovereign.

"…It's me. Tell Mr. Masters that we have our hunter."

As she hangs up, she has only a split second to hear the footsteps rushing up from behind her before she feels the icy bite of the knife as it is plunged through her back and out the front of her left breast. She gasps, blood already flowing into her lungs as she feels one of his vile, slimy hands wrap itself around her throat while the other one tears the gun from the small of her back. Immediately, two bullets burn seared holes of bloody, burnt flesh through her lower stomach and slam into a tree in the distance, the silenced roar of their journey echoed through the midnight air.

"Rest assured that your body will be safe with me." Alexander's monstrously atrocious words are the last thing she hears before her petite yet deadly form goes lifeless. "Next stop, Amity Park."

Author's Note: There you have him, Mr. Alexander Miaji, the devil himself. All I can say for the rest of the story is to expect nothing for I do not know what even I have planned. Please review honestly.

The Daemosian