Aftermath of an Afterlife Chapter 3: Between the Halls and Ominous Drafts, a danny phantom fanfic

AN: Well, first of all, since I've forgotten so far, I would like to announce that this fic's subject matter is now disclaimed. My name is not "Butch Hartman", or "smug executive in charge of Nickelodeon." On another note, I have a chapter naming system now, unless I get bored of it!

Aftermath of an Afterlife

Chapter 2: Between the Halls and Ominous Drafts

"That's you, you idiot!"

Vlad took in the voice's words, and approached the mirror. Looking himself over, he contemplated what all of this meant. Though there was this light feeling all over his body, a strange malaise that seemed to float over him, he felt completely awake. This was no dream, but… where was he? And why in the world did he look so old, and so different?

He had white hair, lines under his eyes, and how old was he, exactly? Forty? So, what happened to half of his life? Although waking up in strange beds and hearing voices was not in any way shape or form normal, this could not be possible. You did not wake up and discover you lost twenty years of your life! That only happened in fairy tales! Who was he, anyway? Huck Finn? No… wait, was it Rumplestilschen? The guy who slept a long time?

And why were there so many pictures of him everywhere? Someone was really obsessed with him…

It really didn't make a single ounce of sense…at all. Again, he found himself thinking about an old granny recently escaped from some psychiatric ward, having murdered the Wisconsin Dairy King and moved into his castle, found a forty something business man, gave him amnesia using Voodoo, and then planned to convince him that he was her husband, but it failed because his memory of his first twenty years of life remained and he knew he would never marry an old crazy lady.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, so shut up! If you're going to talk at least be helpful and tell me what's going on, if not, then shut the hell up and let me figure things out! Got it?" he shouted at the supposed voice inside his head. It stayed silent, thankfully. "Ok, then."

'Now then, Vlad reviewed. I need to figure out: where exactly I am, how much time has past since college, who I can trust, why I feel so off balance and lightheaded, what could have caused my memory loss or caused me to be transplanted into the future, whatever it is that happened, and finally, I need to fix this.'

'Ok, so where am I? A rather large house with lots of pictures of me, obviously, but whose house is this, anyway.'

"Fool! This is your house, don't you remember that?"

"Ok, I'll believe you. I live here. Fine." Vlad spoke his words hurriedly, trying to prevent an actual conversation with this being.

So, although every piece of reason he had told him that he couldn't trust the voices in his head, he wasn't fully listening to ration. Though, at the very least terror had left him, he was struck with curiosity. If this was his house some undeterminable amount of time in the future, then at least he could know what kind of person he was going to be, or was, or whatever. Looking around, he found several other portraits of himself, in all of them it seemed he was doing something important, though Vlad had no clue what.

And then, there was a picture he recognized, it was a group picture, taken at the beginning of the freshman year (he didn't care if this was decades in the future, as far as he was concerned that was a few semesters back). He, Jack, and Maddie had posed for the picture, on the very first day of college (they had all met at a visitation of the campus while still high school juniors and the three bonded like glue). Oddly, the picture had been cut so that Jack was no longer in the picture. He couldn't help but think that was a little freaky. Actually, more then a little freaky, it was actually quite a creepy thing to do. Jack was more then a little annoying at times, everyone knew that, but he couldn't possible hate the man enough to cut him out of the picture. Jack was his best friend, so why would he--

DING DONG!

His eyes widened as he realized that someone was ringing a door bell somewhere in outside the house. If this was his house, then they were expecting him to open the door, right? Open up and let them in? That was what people did, right? Of course it was…

DING DONG! DING DONG!

"I-I'm coming, just a moment!" he shouted as loud as he could, praying this house wasn't so big that they couldn't hear him. He took the steps carefully, remembering how much trouble he had had merely walking around his room. 'My room? I can't believe I'm listening to the voice… This is probably some kind of freakish prank… or I have amnesia… or what if—'

DING DONG

'I don't even know where the door is!' He screamed inwardly, taking up a jogging pace throughout the house, searching for the entrance.

Well, this was not going right at all. Vlad was lost. In what was supposedly his own house. How in the world does that happen?

DING DONG!

Passing through halls and rooms as fast as he could, he passed many more portraits of himself, though none of them triggered any kind of reaction. He had no real response toward them, other then the brief thought that all of my walls being covered in his own likeness, alone, was a little creepy. Like some creepy, bitter, lonely, single, egotistical hermit. He snickered a little bit at the insane thought. He had expected to, oh, he didn't know, have some kind of deja-vu, but nothing came. He needed… A clue as to where the heck he was…

DING DONG

…And although he was wondering what utter joy he would be facing when this person entered…

DING DONG

…and though of course he knew there were fun times ahead talking to someone with not knowing what had happened in the past few years…

DING DONG

…Vlad was mostly contemplating the best way to strangle the ringer…

DING DONG

Oh this person was going to pay!

SMASH!

Vlad stopped for a moment, the sound puzzling him. He was glad that the ringing had stopped… but, what was that—

"Oh… my…Lord …."

Vlad found himself in what he could only describe as the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The colors, the design… it was breath-taking, mesmerizing.

It was the biggest Packers shrine that Vlad had ever laid his eyes on.

"…Oh good Lord…"

Autographs and Posters and Green and Gold galore! Murder the doorbell-ringer plans completely forsaken, Vlad drifted from display to display at a quickening pace, speeds he had not thought possible in even the most sugar-high four-year-olds, let along a groggy displaced twenty-year-old in a body aged twice. But that did not stop Vlad from spanning the long hall within roughly two seconds, seeing how much there was.

Suddenly, all the extremely disturbing thoughts about his apparently creepier older self's house were gone. This had to be his home.

Then, he saw something behind the glass, a newspaper article, with "Let him Buy the Packers!" in big, bold news type. Leaning against the cool glass, he began to read, only to find his support gone and his head coming ever closer to the yellowing paper. He jumped back, staring at the glass he had just slipped though. He was going to figure this out now. He was going to figure out why things kept slipping out of his fingers, and he would do it right now!

Or, at least he would have, had not something large and orange collided right into him fast and hard like something from a horror movie, he was down face to face with the gold an green tiles, and although the fall didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have, he found himself both afraid and annoyed at the same time at this mysterious attacker.

"VLADDY!"

Ok, Vlad definitely knew even after twenty years of blank space what he was in for now, and now he was just annoyed. Then, the room went cold. Red and white sneakers stepped in front of his view, and their owner bent down to Vlad's level, with what Vlad could only describe as a truly vengeful and sadist grin. Vlad shuttered slightly at the boy's hate-laced voice (not to even mention the rather chilling air that seemed to surround the icy-blue eyed teen)

"Nice Pajamas, Uncle Vlad. So, did you get that cat yet?"

Oh, OK, so the fear was back, and he didn't know what he was in for.

AN: That was actually much more difficult to write then I ever thought it would be. My need for daily angst kept getting in the way during writing time. But, at least I have one one-shot and a scene for a future fic planned out thanks to it. Also, my mom bought me pretty explosives! That's probably going to effect this story somewhere up the road. Also, Danny will probably be slightly OOC, but that's only because he's being seen through the POV of Vlad. And Plus, I thought of Vlad being afraid of Danny and thinking he's sadist and cruel is hillarious.