Here is Chapter Two of XOVR; I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Don't forget to review!
Danny didn't arrive home until just before his ten' o'clock curfew. The very thought of explaining to his family that the network had cancelled them made his stomach drop like a skydiving elephant. He could almost see their separate reactions in his mind's eye: Jazz would blame everyone, starting with Danny and ending with herself, than suffer a nervous breakdown. His mother would act unruffled and try to make the family see the positive side of this, and his father would be totally uncomprehending and wind up shouting about ghosts.
Following Danny's arrival, his mental script didn't play out as expected.
"Mom, Dad…I've got some bad news."
"What is it, son?"
"It's about…us."
"Go on, Danny."
It's we're…"
"Spit it out!"
"Canceled!"
Since no one could muster a response, Danny continued: "Yeah, canceled. An before any of you even start, none of us are to blame, there is nothing good positive about this at all, and it has nothing to do with ghosts!"
Answered again by silence, Danny shifted uncomfortably, shame flushing his face. He finished:
"I'm going to bed. Don't bother waking me up tomorrow."
The ghost boy collapsed face-first onto his bed. There were hushed voices from downstairs, so low he couldn't even tell who was talking. Danny cursed himself for his behavior; he was acting like a stupid child, projecting his own anger and frustration onto the people who deserved it the least.
Turning over onto his back, he rubbed his temples, trying to calm down. He needed to call Sam and Tucker; maybe they would be open to commiseration.
Danny picked his cellular phone out of his pocket and speed-dialed Sam's number. He frowned; there was no ring at the other end. Clicking the End Call button, Danny flipped to Tuck's number. Again, nothing. He checked the phone's reception and battery readouts- both full.
"It's okay," Danny said to himself. "It's late; Tuck and Sam's parents probably just made them turn their phones off."
The excuse sounded stupid, even as the words went through his mind. Sam defied her parents at every possible turn, and Tucker considered the deactivation of any electronic device akin to murder.
Before he had a chance to give his friends further thought, the whole house shook violently, jarring Danny out of bed and into an undignified heap on the floor. A high scream pierced the air, freezing Danny's blood. It didn't even occur to him to transform as he burst out of his bedroom and leapt down the stairs.
The living room was in ruins. A jagged hole, at least fifteen feet high, had been torn through what had been the wall surrounding the front door. The furniture was slashed, stuffing strewn about like off-season snow. And, marking the floor, were huge, canoe-shaped gouges; like giant, freakish footprints.
Another scream reached Danny's ears, this one coming from the kitchen. And he recognized it.
"Jazz!"
Danny dashed through another torn-up wall, skidding to a halt the sight in the kitchen.
Jazz Fenton was backed up against the far wall, shielding herself behind the upended table. In front of her stood a horrible beast, crimson in color, advancing slowly, as if savoring her fear. Under the crook of its left arm hung Jack and Maddie Fenton, motionless.
The creature's right arm moved in a blur, ripping the table into splinters. Danny had no time to think. He rushed forward, feeling the electric charge of his transformation surge involuntarily through every cell in his body. He didn't even realize that he was yelling at the top of his lungs. The beast, possessing two giant, rabbit-like ears, did notice.
Dropping the still Fentons, it backhanded the half-transformed boy, sending him flying back into the living room. Bouncing off the last undamaged wall, Danny fell to the floor, dazed by the impact. His limbs felt like gelatin, and his head like a bowling ball. Somehow, he managed to haul himself up, just in time to see the beast strike his sister to the floor.
Danny wouldn't remember anything following that. He wouldn't remember flying at the creature, smashing it through the kitchen wall and into the night air. He wouldn't remember its blood-red eyes and ovoid head full of needle-like teeth, snarling in pain. He wouldn't remember throwing it to earth with meteoric force, smashing the road for a block into gravel. And he wouldn't remember plunging his hands, charged with ghostly energy, into the monsters very solid body, grasping onto its bones, and tearing it in half.
Danny's senses returned as he knelt on the wrecked street, gasping for breath. He was shivering, but felt oddly warm. Opening his eyes, he saw the reason why: from head to foot, he was drenched in still-warm blood.
He would remember that forever.