Hey everybody! Thanks to Samantha-Girl Scout and Ghostboy814 for reviewing the previous chapter and NYCbound for his recent review of Chapter 1. And to any who read this chapter, please review; you just have to press a little button down there. And I can promise a personal response to every reviewer!

Anyway, bad news is that this'll be my last chap for a while until I see some new eps and get reinspired. I just feel that I don't know any other characters well enough to write over 1000 words about 'em! All right, enjoy!

He who hunts for amusement will soon find himself to be the prey.

The hunter was in his lair, seated against a tree, staring at another tree across from him where he'd posted a picture of his present quarry. A teenage boy that was both human and ghost, and had been plaguing him for months. He emptied one of his munitions banks from his armor; gathered some darts and began tossing them at the poster. The first hit struck the 2D Phantom square on the end of the nose.

"Huh, bull's-eye," he muttered, smirking. Though a second later, he realized that he had no reason to be praising himself.

Any fool could hit a still, inanimate target, and that seemed to be all he could hit nowadays. His failures to the Ghost Boy had been affecting his morale and hunter's spirit, for lack of a better phrase, and he was constantly losing more and more prey the longer he went on with the child's life mocking him.

He was Skulker: Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter and Tracker; Collector of All Beings Rare and Dangerous. What had happened to him? His sole purpose in being a ghost and staying in the realm of post-life was to hunt down and/or slaughter and stuff all he deemed worthy of his pursuit. With that love fading, what reason was there for him to remain on this plain?

One who only hunts for sport

Always kills more than the one

They never see how much is lost

For their own ceaseless fun

Everyone, living or dead, knew him to be the hunter. They had other names for him too, of course: Obsessor; Monster; Murderer; Psychopath. They didn't see it as he did. They all thought it was a game to him, but it was more than that. It was a way of life, or afterlife, but who really keeps that straight?

"If only they knew," he murmured, tossing another dart and nailing Danny's left eye. "They have no idea what happened, not like I'd really want them to."

The last thing he needed was pity. But still...after all this time it'd be nice to talk to someone about it. After her betrayal he had abandoned any and all hope of friendship or love.

A hunter wants something more

Some sense of being complete

The adrenaline or bloodlust

That turns innocents to meat

He had been a small man, not tiny, but still rather small compared to the other men of his land. His life had been during the early Thirteenth century, when science and technology was sparse and the sword and sorcery thrived. Being a petite man, he'd always had something to prove; as much to others as to himself. He became skilled with the bow; any creature caught unawares would quickly be stricken of life. But as time passed, he felt lacking; he yearned to kill his prey up close and personal and not just when his quarry was defenseless. Then he met her and everything changed.

She was gorgeous, strong and had a love of the hunt that possibly challenged his own. He asked, well, begged her to teach him the ways of combat and she eventually agreed. She taught him the proper use of a blade and how to use his smaller, nimble body to his advantage. In a matter of months, they were the greatest hunters in the area. All game, bounties and outlaws belonged to them. And the longer they worked together, the more he came to realize that he was in love with her. The way she darted around was like poetry in motion; her strikes like the most bittersweet embraces. As much as he hated having a weakness, he couldn't deny this one. But like any man head over heels in love, he was oblivious to fact.

The fact was that his tutor held none of the same feelings for him. She had already come to the conclusion that men were too weak and succumbed to easily to their hearts. Her only love was the hunt and its ample rewards.

A hunter's heart is only won

By another of the kind

But the former should beware his love

As his pelt is on her mind

Of course, his blind infatuation only lasted for so long. The other hunters and warriors were tired of losing their game to this pair, so they decided that it had to end. They watched the actions of the two, and came up with a plan. They dragged his crush aside one evening, and offered to pay her a hefty price for the death of the Skulker.

A small fortune with a prey almost as talented as she was? How could she refuse? They were in the woods a night later, hunting a noble stag, when she attacked him. It had been easier than she'd thought; he'd never seen it coming.

"Why?" he had pleaded of her in anguish. "Why?"

She gazed down at him and uttered the last words he heard in his life, "Because a hunter is nothing without her prey..."

This wasn't his end; NEVER! His soul refused to fade; he had to have his revenge against the traitor. He found a way back to the mortal world and discovered that he could overshadow not only people, but objects, as well. He inhabited the strongest suit of armor he could find and set out to settle his score.

She was, unlike him, prepared to fight before her demise. She didn't recognize him, coated in the armor, until he spoke, "While a hunter is nothing without his prey, the prey will always be less!" He then phased through her sword and stabbed her. She didn't even have time to speak. Her life was over, and her soul was crossed to the other side, leaving him alone, save for his purpose to continue the hunt.

When one hunts for revenge

Their work cannot be done

They will keep on for eternity

Until their cycle is outrun

The hunt was all he had left, and always would be. As time flew by, he upgraded his armor and weapons, not even noticing his true ghostly form was growing smaller and smaller. It wasn't until his most recent evolution that he saw what he'd been reduced to: a tiny, frog-like mite dependent on an advanced suit. But the strange thing was, though his size had bothered him in life, it no longer mattered in death. What did a shrimpy body mean when he was the greatest of all predators? Lesser beings still trembled before him after hundreds of years, pelts and severed heads still adorned his floor and walls. If the Ghost Boy was dragging him down, then it was time to take it up a notch.

Fear lends wings unto the feet

As the prey runs for its life

The hunter doesn't care so much

As it's only minor strife

Once again he lay before Danny Phantom, battered and beaten. The boy took out his Thermos and aimed it at Skulker.

"Seriously, dude. You'd have to get up pretty early to put me down," the child said.

"I can wait, child; I refuse to let up. Only one ever succeeded over me and she paid the ultimate price," Skulker told.

Not wanting to delve any further into Skulker's speech, Danny raised the Thermos and sucked him back into the Ghost Zone. The mechanical specter flew back to his lair and landed back at his spot with the trees and poster. He took out one last dart and threw it at Danny's paper forehead.

"I can wait, child. I can wait..."

Patience is the key

Until the trap is sprung

A hasty action to the prey

Leaves you cursing at your gun

And that's it for now. If you really want a new chapter soon, then e-mail and tell them to get new DP eps up here in Canada. They still haven't shown anything past or including "Reign Storm" yet, except for "Identity Crisis". Well, R&R!