Author's note: If you've seen it on Danny Phantom, I don't own it. I apologize if the first chapter seemed a little long and boring, but I figured I'd just get a good part of the introductions out of the way. This chapter might seem a little weird, so if you think there's anything wrong or weak about my writing, feel free to review. You're helping me by offering potentially helpful advice, and you're helping yourselves by getting it off your chest. Trust me, the action increases as the story goes on.
Thanks to the reviews from: Enigmatic Penguin- Thanks. By the way, I am going to try and spell "sayoonara" right from now on. If I have any other Japanese words in here that I've mispelled, by all means say so.
The Sleep Warrior- Yes, I will keep writing for at least fifteen more chapters and a sequel yet. So stay tuned. Also, if you have any extra ideas for the sequel, I'm all ears.
Chapter 2 (Sociophantom) We were in the foothills of Hokkaido, Japan, within the next half hour. We were lucky that since it was late summer it was still warm enough for us to wear our regular clothes. The only additional equipment that we had were traveling staves, hiking boots, bear bells, and extra sweater each, and these weird rings that mom made for us out of some sort of techno junk that was supposed to create an energy shield that protected us from ghosts. I didn't feel anything so I assumed that they were faulty.
"Oh this is going to be great," mom said, her voice shrill with anticipation, "We are going looking for the world's first ghost portal. Some rumors even say that it's been in existence for ten thousand years."
"Great," I said sarcastically, "So how long is it going to take us to get there?"
Either she didn't notice my sarcasm or she chose to ignore it when she replied, "Oh, not far. If my lead is anywhere near accurate the hike should just be two or three more hours."
I drove my foot into a rock the second she said that, and I think that I hurt something, because I was walking funny the rest of the day. Fortunately the top of my traveling staff was T-shaped so I could use it like a crutch.
Eventually my negativity towards why we were out here melted away, to be replaced by a sense of wonder at the things around me. The hills were grassy and untrodden, with flowers and bushes springing up out of the ground. Small trees grew here. Stunted though they were by the cold weather, they were still persistent enough to grow in this relatively harsh environment.
Turning to us my father said, "Now remember kids, keep your eyes out for bears. They're rare but there are still some left in these mountains. If you see one, don't hesitate to tell everyone else."
"Okay," Veronica and I replied before we returned to our observation of nature. I had to admit, with the high, snow-capped mountains in the background and the sloping, grassy hills in front of us, it really was an amazing view. There was no wind, so you could even hear the keening cries of the eagles high above our heads.
Eventually, we came to the foot of a large mountain, its peak extending into the mist high above us. We sat there for a while as mom tried to find where we were on her map. I massaged my foot as we waited, and dad and Ronnie whistled a duet, dad doing the bass part and Ronnie the high part. With the echo coming off the mountains, it really did sound cool. Eventually I even joined in, whistling tenor.
After a few minutes we were back on the road, still whistling, as we trekked along a narrow mountain path. Our view was now rather stifled by the side of the mountain that we were up against. Our view of the side of the mountain opposite us, however, was actually pretty cool. I could see individual trees as they covered the valley floor below, and as they petered out around the treeline much further up. Great eagles and hawks circled none too far above us, searching for prey in the valley below.
Thin clouds of snow and mist swirled down from above. They weren't chilly, actually, they were really quite refreshing. Off in the distance I could see the sunlit mountains, most of their peaks shrouded in mist. I could hear the distant roar of the rushing rivers and plunging waterfalls below, and the wind as it rattled the needles and leaves of the trees, and echoed off the sides of the mountains.
"Hey, is it just me, or is it getting a bit cold?" A light breeze sent a shiver down my spine, and I put on my extra sweater. It still wasn't very cold, but then I've never liked the cold too terribly much. My sister, however, is just as tolerant of the cold as I am of the heat, and I can stand outside on a really warm spring day in a sweater and jeans and I'm just fine.
Eventually, the path that we were following descended somewhat, and before long we came to a crossroads. On one side the path stayed close to the mountain for a fair ways before it rose again, then dipped until it was lost to sight. The other path extended across the valley to the other side as a sort of bridge, descending as it went. It rose up again on the other side, then curved along the side of the next mountain and was lost to sight.
"This is as far as the map leads me," mom said after several minutes of deliberation, "We'll split up. Hal, you and Tirrell go along the mountain. Veronica, you and I will take the bridge. If you don't find anything in the next hour, head back to this spot. We'll head home from there." We all nodded our assent, then went our separate ways, dad and I took the high road, and Ronnie and mom took the low road. Personally, I would have taken the low road.
At first the going was rather easy. The path was smooth and it was only very slightly angled upwards. We were making good time. As the path started to rise more and more steeply upwards, we started moving gradually slower. The distance was more than it had appeared to be at first. Then we came to a dead end. The path gave way to a steep ledge about fifteen feet high.
We agreed that dad would slowly climb up and, if need be, he'd use my dagger to carve holds into the rock. I knew that he'd been on every sports team his university could come up with, but I never realized that he was still in such great shape. With one grunt he tore huge grooves into the rock.
I was also surprised at how much punishment my dagger could take. Most weapons of the same size would shatter and snap after only one or two strokes into the rock. Dad must have really known who he was talking to when he commissioned the forging of that thing.
Within a few minutes he was at the top. He turned around and dropped the dagger at my feet. Then it was my turn to follow. I moved on to the first hold and heaved myself up. I kept a steady pace until I got to a wide space of flat rock. I tried making a few handholds with my dagger, but I wasn't strong enough to make those gouges with any amount of speed.
"Dad?" I called up. A moment later I saw his head lean out over the small cliff, only a few feet away. "On three I'm going to jump upwards as far as I can. I want you to catch my arm and pull me the rest of the way up, okay?" He hesitated a moment, then nodded. I tensed myself. Every muscle in my arms and legs was bunched, as well as the muscles in my torso.
"One..." I called out, looking down towards the ground several feet below. If something went wrong, I'd hurt, though not as bad as I could hurt. But I'd definitely know about it.
"Two..." I looked up, towards my destination. If I succeeded, then I should get up there without any serious injury. That was a very big "If" however.
"And Three!" And with all my strength I heaved myself upwards. After a few seconds I stopped rising. Time seemed to freeze as I hung in midair, praying that I had gotten close enough to dad for him to reach me.
Just as I started to fall again I felt something take hold of my arm in a grip like iron. I was stunned with relief and awe as with one swift effort he lifted me over the cliff. I flew a few feet in the air before hitting the ground. We both lay there for a moment, our breath coming in great gusts and whooshes.
After a minute I said, "Nice throw, old man. I think you ruptured my spleen with that last move." He was quiet for a moment, then he burst out laughing.
He laughed for some time before he shot back, "Old, am I? Well this old man still has a few tricks that you've never heard of before."
"And for now, let's just make sure it stays that way," I suggested, knowing almost exactly what he meant by those words. He was still laughing as we picked ourselves up and continued on down the trail.
The ledge started to become broader and rougher. Chunks of rock stood out of the path every which way, just waiting for someone to trip over them. We came at last to a sharp bend in the mountainside. And what we saw after we rounded the bend very nearly took our breath away.
This side of the mountain was shaped like a crescent. In about the middle of the crescent was a huge lump of solid rock, which rose above the ledge before plunging downwards. "Well," dad said, determination in his every movement, "The only way that we're going to find out what's in there is if we take a look."
We started for the lump immediately. The ground seemed to get smoother and smoother as we went, until it looked as if people walked on this path every day.
The ground rose as we approached the lip of the basin. We had to crawl up the slope on hands and knees. Finally, we reached the lip of the basin. Inside there was very little save the low entrance to a cave.
"Tir, stay here and watch for your mother and sister. I'll go in and see what's on the other side of that cave mouth."
"Good luck," I said, taking his outstretched hand and slowly shaking it. He smiled, then headed down into the ravine. A moment later he disappeared entirely from view.
I stood up there, pacing, for the longest time. Eventually, I sat down and brought out my dagger and examined the weapon for any nicks or dents in the blade. I was both surprised and relieved to find that the blade was undamaged, looking no less new than a few hours ago when I had first received it.
After a while I gave up on that and decided to meditate. I sat down on a rock and began. I closed my eyes and relaxed every muscle in my entire body, from my scalp to my toes, methodically, from top to bottom.
Then I relaxed my mind, focused it, until it was totally blank. Within and without everything was silence and peace. I smelled, saw heard, felt and tasted nothing.
Then I felt a small chill. It ran slowly throughout my entire body, unnerving me greatly. I thought that it was just one of those involuntary shudders that one occasionally has, until it came again. And again. And then I saw them in my mind's eye. Eyes.
A pair of glowing green eyes. Fear very slowly started creeping into my system, permeating every cell. Then the hissing began. Low at first, so low that I barely realized I had heard it. It grew and grew, until terror coursed through my veins like blood. And then I heard the scream.
It seemed distant, far away, as if from another world. I shook myself from my meditation, thinking that I had just fallen asleep. And then the scream came again. Much, much closer. It was a call of sheer terror, Reverberating through the mountains, tortured, and mutilated, as if its maker clung to life by barely even a thread. I wondered where it had come from at first. I looked all around, until it came again.
"Oh god," I gasped, as the whole reality of it hit me like a hurricane. "Oh my good lord in heaven no. No! No!" As if I was pursued by demons I ran for the cave as fast as my legs would carry me. Without even realizing it my dagger and staff were in my hands, ready to be used for real.
I ran into the cave, the top of the mouth grazing my back. I barely noticed it as I ran to a form lying still on the floor. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a match and struck it, lighting the end of my staff. I looked down at the form before me, and the colour probably drained from my face as a groan of horror escaped my dry lips.
He was badly burned across the torso and arms, with a blackened area across his throat. His arms were raised, as if trying to keep something away from his face, and his hair and face were snow white. A look of pure terror was forever driven into his face.
Despite these drastic changes, I knew without a doubt that the one lying dead before me was my father. I also knew that those screams had escaped his throat. My horror at what had happened to him was quickly replaced by a burning thirst for vengeance.
I ran further into the cave, until I came to a bend. Light was coming from the other side. A dull green light, slowly throbbing. I threw myself around the bend and was confronted by a strange silhouette.
About my size, perhaps a bit shorter, rather on the thin, slightly muscular side. What I found the most disconcerting about the figure was that he was floating a foot or two off the ground. Behind the figure was what looked like a swirling, green whirlpool.
I didn't know much about ghosts, but I knew well enough that this was a ghost portal, a door into the realm of disembodied spirits. I threw my staff, fire-tipped end first, at the figure. It caught him in the back, and a yell of pain escaped his lips.
He whipped around, and his fist started to glow as green as the ghost portal. It glowed brighter and brighter until it lit the entire passage. That was when I got a good look at him.
He was dressed in a black and white jumpsuit, mostly black, with white on his gloves, boots, collar and belt. His hair was as white as newfallen snow, and his glowng green eyes bored into mine with the same malicious grin his mouth wore.
I spoke, my voice hoarse and shrill with anger and fear, "Who are you? What are you doing here!"
He looked at me for a moment, frozen grin on his face. Then he started snickering. His snicker soon grew into full-throated diabolical laughter.
"Hey, Mark Hamill, what's so funny!" I bellowed over the noise as it echoed off the walls.
"I have a name, child," he said darkly, the smile all but gone from his face. "Some call me their prey. Others call me the ghost child. But I do have an actual name, you can be sure of that."
With that he pointed his fist at me, and a bolt of green light streaked towards me. It struck me full on in the face, and I howled with pain as I flew backwards. The light must have gone out, because everything was dark.
I got up, dagger in hand as he howled, "I am DANNY PHANTOM!" I struck at where I thought him to be, and I received a blow to the ribs for it.
I was lifted bodily and thrown backwards. Then things became very cold. Piercingly cold. I could only very distantly hear what was going on around me. I felt like an arctic wind rippled through my body. Then, everything, all of my senses, went dark.
Note: Nice plot twist, eh? Actually, it won't get explained in this story, but the sequel, "Way of the Ghost: The D Factor", will get it over with.