Empyreal
empyreal (em-pir-ee-uhl) adj. - pertaining to the highest heaven in the cosmology of the ancients.
-Four-
I'll be the first to admit, I know nothing about how the body works. Considering I've never had one before, I honestly had no idea what to do when Tucker collapsed. I just kind of… sat there next to him, wondering what I was going to do if he didn't wake up soon. He was still alive, but if he didn't wake up in the next few hours, how was I going to explain him being here?
Thankfully, just as I was contemplating a plausible story, I heard a groan and felt the floor next to me move. I glanced at him, and watched as his eyes fluttered open and he looked around inquisitively.
"Where…" he muttered, and then noticed me. At first he still looked confused, but then he immediately jumped up and moved backwards, falling over a chair and smacking his head against my bureau.
"Ooh…" I said, wincing. He stood back up, holding the back of his head, tears in his eyes from the hit.
"O-okay… what the hell is going on?!" he demanded. I walked over to him (or tried to, anyway, he kept getting away) and finally managed to sit him down in the chair that had tripped him earlier.
I stood behind him in the chair, facing the mirror. I firmly held the wooden back of the chair, and started creating the story.
I had to tell someone the truth.
"Tucker," I started, "I'm… I'm a ghost." Tucker remained silent, although I could see he was physically shaking. I really gave this kid a scare, didn't I?
"I'm not the kind of ghost you're thinking of, though. I'm a ghost who never actually lived. I was born as a creature of the Ghost Zone, and I've been there for fourteen years. I was raised by a committee of ancient spirits, although one of those ghosts kind of… parented me, I suppose," I said, trying to think of my situation. In the mirror, Tucker had gone from terrified to slightly confused. He was still holding his head, but he looked as if he were actually paying attention.
"Anyway, I was given the chance to live amongst humans. According to Master – he's the ghost who parented me – all ghosts who had not been humans get this chance, and now it was my turn. So… I'm living, for three months, under the guise of 'Danny' in the Fenton household." After my story, there was silence as Tucker seemed to process the information. He turned around in his chair slowly, checking his hand for blood, I guess, to make sure he wasn't bleeding.
Whatever his reaction was, I'd still be completely shocked. I've never told this story to a human before; most ghosts found it completely rational and normal.
A human, however… Who knows.
"So… you're a… ghost… but not like a dead-person kind of ghost?" Tucker asked in a rather small voice. I nodded.
"Yes."
"So, what's your real name?"
"They call me 'Phantom'."
"Oh." Tucker remained silent, turning back around in the chair and standing up. He then turned to face me, lowering his hand from the back of his head.
"You do know that the Fentons are ghost hunters, right?" Tucker said, easing up a bit. Now that I had told him, the room suddenly felt less tense. And Tucker seemed almost… fine with the whole situation.
"You… you're not… freaked out or anything?" I asked. Tucker laughed and nodded.
"Oh, I was scared shitless for awhile," he said. He sighed. "But, after you told me the truth… it felt… right, somehow. I don't know, but I felt much more at ease. Like—"
"—This is the way it's supposed to be?"
"Yeah," Tucker agreed, giving me a bizarre look. "How'd you know—?"
"I've been getting that feeling often this week," I explained, smiling. It felt good to smile. I had never smiled much in the Zone, but I guess that's because it never felt so good.
Now that Tucker knew, it almost felt like he was on my side.
"Besides, what with all the ghosts we see around here, I'm not that shocked, I guess," Tucker said, blushing a little. "I came here looking for the Fentons to use some gadget to save me – not a ghost to save me."
"Well, I—"
Wait.
Did he say the Fentons were ghost hunters?
"Wait, what about the Fentons?" I asked, concern growing in my voice. Suddenly, all the good feeling and warmth rushed out of my body and it was replaced with a stinging, aching sensation in my stomach.
Ah. Dread.
"They're the worlds leading ghost experts and hunters," Tucker explained. He rubbed the back of his head again, and then examined the bureau he had smacked against. "I thought Jazz would have mentioned that to you."
"No, she… conveniently forgot that," I muttered. If they saw me in my true form, naturally they'd go after me. And if they were the 'ghost experts' of this world, then if they saw the seal of my Master on my clothing, they would certainly recognize that I was powerful. But what if they were just as powerful? He did say the "world's leading"…
Unless…
"You said there were ghosts in this town, right?" I said, turning to the boy. He stood up straight and nodded.
"Yeah, a bunch. The Fentons opened some kind of door to the Ghost Zone and now they come through all the time. They have trouble keeping track of all of them, though, and they only catch about half as many as come through."
Perfect.
"What if… what if I helped them?" I asked. "What if I used my ghostly abilities to help them round up all those ghosts? I mean, I bet I know a bunch of them, anyway. That way they won't hunt me." It was a good plan. Tucker frowned.
"I don't know… they might not believe that a ghost could actually save people." I laughed.
"I'm not doing it to save people, I'm doing it to keep me away from their weapons." Tucker continued to frown and walked towards the window, the rain having let up. Instead, the pavement glinted under the fluorescent lamps outside.
"Well… maybe if you could protect people in the meantime of trying to get on their good side… they won't hunt you. I mean, once you tell them you're living under their roof—"
"Ohhhhh no no no," I said, panicking slightly and covering up his mouth. I had moved so quickly across the room I probably scared him to death. "No, we are not telling them. You barely recognized me as Phantom, so I doubt they will. Danny and Phantom are two separate people, got that? I can't blow my cover here."
"Why?" Tucker asked, shoving my hand away. Now that I had shown myself to be in a weakened position, he felt stronger. "You're leaving in three months anyway, right?"
"Well… I-I don't know," I stammered. "I mean, I just have this feeling… that I shouldn't leave before the three months are up. I have to stay here. In this house."
"Why?" Tucker demanded. I stared back at him, lost for words. Honestly, I didn't know why. I just had this very strong feeling that it was necessary to be here. That something was going to happen. And I needed to be here for it.
Master knows everything. Clearly, I was put here for a reason. He arranged for me to live with this family, in this town, for a specific reason. I was feeling too many bizarre feelings, too many familiarities for this to all be coincidental.
I'm here for a reason, I wanted to say. What that reason is… I have no idea. But the more I tried to vocalize what I meant, the greater the feeling of dread became inside me. It was physically hurting me.
And every time I thought of why I was here… it hurt more. Clearly, for whatever reason I was here, it was not a good one.
Tucker just sighed.
"Look, it doesn't matter," he said softly. He smiled. "I'm probably going to wake up tomorrow and think this is all a dream. But… I don't know. I met you, what, four, five days ago? This is nuts, it's really nuts."
"Look, Tucker—" I started, but as soon as I spoke, the grandfather clock that was in the room downstairs began chiming.
And it only chimed once.
"Oh, crap, is it one o'clock?" Tucker asked, a pained expression on his face. "I gotta get home. I was supposed to be home at eleven. Oh, my parents are going to kill me. I hope they fell asleep or something!" he said, looking for an escape route.
Then, against everything I knew about my powers, I sighed.
"Look," I said. "If you promise to keep this a secret – which you will – and you continue to help me… I can get you home in thirty seconds."
"I live almost on the other side of town," Tucker said, doubt edging his voice. "It's at least a ten minute drive, maybe a thirty minute walk."
"Yes, but I'm a ghost," I said. "I can go through things and fly at very high speeds with almost no wind resistance." Tucker looked at me, then the window, then back at me again. He sighed, and walked over to me.
"Okay," he said. "I'll… I'll help you. And keep this hidden."
"From everyone?" I asked, trying to figure out how to call upon my powers. This time it was easier, and the next thing I knew, I was my old self again.
"From everyone."
"Miss Manson? Miss Manson!" the teacher, a scrawny old woman who went by the name of Miss Bercury, said. The girl – Samantha? Sam? I think it was Sam – anyway, she glanced up, blushing. Miss Bercury sighed.
"Miss Manson, even though you have the highest average of the entire class, would you care to pay attention?" Sam blushed even more, her pale complexion turning crimson.
Some people in the class sniggered, and I did all I could not to shoot them literal death glares. How dare they make fun of such an intuitive, brilliant person?
Then again, I was a total idiot compared to everyone else. I mean, I'm not stupid, but when it comes to human history… I've never learned any of it.
I frowned, partly because of my own idiocy, partly because of the glances people were still shooting her. Sam was very quiet in History, but in other classes like English and Art, she was so… outspoken. She went on and on yesterday about the consonance and assonance and whatnot of a poem called "The Bells" by someone named Edgar Allen Poe. I thought the reason "bells" was repeated a zillion times was because the poet got lazy, but she began talking of all this beautiful imagery and word and language… It was wonderful. Although I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, I still couldn't help but listen.
Her History persona certainly didn't reflect the way she actually was, from what I've gathered. She's a bit of a loner, but she's very passionate in what she believes in and doesn't let anyone tell her she's wrong – even if she is. (She hasn't been yet.)
I sighed. For some unfathomable reason, she absolutely fascinated me. Then again, most humans did. How could humans and ghosts act so… differently? Most of the time, ghosts were dead humans. So, why did they change suddenly? Why is the world of the living such a contrast to the world of the dead?
"Daniel?" Miss Bercury said to me, raising her eyebrows. I winced and sat up straight, gulping. Time for another piece of history that I don't know.
"Yes, ma'am?" I asked. Giggles ensued. I frowned. Proper manners around your elders was beaten into me since I was very small. I guess it comes with being raised by ancient ghosts… but I digress.
"Since no one else can answer this question, maybe someone who's from one of the thirteen colonies can answer," she said, turning a page in her teacher book. From what I've learned, I'm supposedly from the east coast, a city called 'Boston'. And unfortunately for me, this 'Boston' was very important in American history.
"Who led the Boston Tea Party in 1773?" she asked, staring me down. I gulped again.
I thought about it. I honestly had no idea. I didn't even know what it was. All I knew of the Revolution was from the few ghosts from that era that were still hanging around the Ghost Zone. There was a girl who died during the Revolution that told me a lot about it though… I wonder what happened to her… Hm…
Nope, can't remember anything.
"Sons of Liberty," a soft voice said behind me. I looked up at Miss Bercury; she hadn't heard the voice.
"T-The Sons of Liberty!" I answered, shaking. I again felt that familiar feeling in my stomach. Ugh, it was sickening.
Miss Bercury stood up straight and wrote it on the board.
"Yes, Daniel. Did you hear that everyone? At least someone knows his history. Now, on the night of December 16, 1773…" I glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice. Was it in my head? Was it invisible?
My eyes fell on her. The next row over, two seats back. She was doodling in an open notebook, the page blank. She wasn't even looking at her notes. She glanced up as I looked at her, and for a moment our eyes locked. Her eyes took me by surprise; they were a pinkish-violet color, and very bright. They seemed out of place against her pale skin, dark hair and dark clothes. It didn't help that they were surrounded by dark makeup around her eyes.
I was speechless momentarily. I just gaped at her like an idiot, but she didn't turn away. I soon deducted that she was the one who had whispered the answer.
'Thank you,' I mouthed, finally regaining my senses. Why did she leave me so breathless?
She suddenly smiled (and became about ten times more beautiful).
"You're welcome," she whispered, and, with another glance at me, went back to doodling in her notebook.
After that horrible class ended, I found myself searching for her face in the hallways. I was bustling by people, sometimes using my powers momentarily to pass through them quicker, and without thinking about it, I realized I was searching for a round, pale face framed by silky black hair everywhere. The only times during the day I ever saw her was when we were both at our locker (before homeroom), and three classes out of seven; American History, English Language Arts, and Drawing and Painting.
Every time I saw her, my chest heaved and my face grew very hot. It felt like my heart was beating faster than it normally was. It was practically jumping up my throat, and a couple times I placed my hand on my warm skin to make sure it wasn't leaping out of my chest.
At the same time, I felt like I was on the look-out for more ghosts. After drilling Tucker for information, I found out that this portal to the Zone had been open for years, but it had been kept quiet until just a few months earlier. Whenever someone had a ghost-related issue, they were to contact the Fentons at any and all hours of the day.
Which is what Trucker had been trying to do the night I saved him.
He also told me that, even if I hunted these idiots alongside the Fentons, they might still try to catch me, and I was not—
"Y'know, you're going to be late," Tucker suddenly said behind me. I jumped probably about a foot in the air and spun around, slamming my locker closed as I did.
"Don't you ever do that again!" I cried, panting. My chest felt like it was on fire. Being surprised as a human hurt. Tucker grinned.
"You were just standing there at your locker," he said, clapping his hand onto my shoulder. I glanced around and noticed the hallway was empty. I leaned against my locker, sighing.
"Well, maybe we should—"
"Relax, Phantom," he said, motioning to the front doors. "School's over." I blinked.
What?
"Your last class is History, isn't it?" he asked me. "I was just kidding about being late." I bent down and lifted my book bag, slinging it over one shoulder. (It hurt, but everyone else did it, and I still had to blend in as much as possible.)
"Haha, very funny," I said, grinning. Even after terrifying Tucker within an inch of his life, he still felt like an old friend. I found myself to be extremely at ease around him, and he with me as well. When we were around others he called me by my human name, but he insisted upon my real name when there was no one around.
"So, Phantom…" Tucker started, shoving his hands into his pockets, "I noticed today during English that you seemed to be staring at someone."
Immediately, my cheeks grew hot again.
"…Someone named, oh, I don't know… Sam Manson?"
"Shut up!" I cried, covering his mouth with my hand. I looked around nervously, it there were no other humans around. I uncovered his mouth – but there was a smug grin plastered on his face instead.
"Tell me, do ghosts fall in love?" Tucker asked. I shrugged.
"Not my kind," I said, unable to look at him. "Human ghosts can… ghosts like me – we don't have those kinds of emotions."
"Oh, but you do now, eh?" Tucker said, jabbing me with his elbow. I scoffed and pushed him away a bit harder than I originally meant.
"If you don't love, then do you have friends?" Tucker asked, more serious this time. We had just arrived at Jazz's black car, and she was nowhere to be seen. I stopped to think about it.
In my entire 'life', I'd never really had real friends. I referred to them as friends, but I never had that special bond with someone that humans do. I've met people my age and talked to them over the years, but normally they were only there for a couple days; normally nomadic human ghosts roaming through the Zone. I mean, when I was younger Master found a playmate for me – a little ghost-dog whom he called 'Cujo'. But never a real friend before…
"I… guess not," I said slowly.
"What?" Jazz asked, unlocking the car. Again, I was completely surprised by her appearance; she literally popped out of nowhere.
"Uh, nothing," I said, sighing in relief that she hadn't heard us. Tucker suddenly punched my lower back.
"Ow, what the—Oh," I said. I turned to Jazz and smiled. "Jazz… do you think we could give Tucker a lift?" Jazz glanced at me, and then at Tucker, who was standing behind me.
"Pleeeeeeeeease?" Tucker begged in a mock-high voice. "I promise to be good." Jazz just stared at us both, and then laughed.
"I guess so. Get in," she said, starting up the car. We threw our bags into the back of her car, Tucker climbing into the back, myself the front. Jazz pulled out of the high school and started zooming down side streets.
"So Danny, just so you know, we're gonna be alone starting tonight," Jazz said after a time. I glanced at her.
"Wait, why?" Jazz sighed.
"My parents are flying out to Wisconsin until Sunday, which means four days of just us in that whacked out house."
"What on earth is in Wisconsin?" I asked. I was slightly familiar with the name; I knew it was one of the contiguous states, and that it was very… well… not really a vacation spot.
"Cheese ghosts?" Tucker asked, grinning. Jazz frowned.
"Har har. Someone who lives out there is an old friend of theirs and they're going there to see him." I sat back and looked out the window. "They haven't seen him in roughly twenty years or so, but thank God we're not going."
"They're just going out of the blue?" Tucker inquired.
"No, they were invited. They went to college with this guy and he's holding a class reunion in his mansion."
"Mansion? Just who is this guy?" Tucker asked, shocked. We had come to a stop light. Jazz turned around to look at us.
"Either of you ever hear of Vlad Masters?"
"Wait, Vlad Masters? The Vlad Masters?" Tucker said, his jaw dropping. "No way! He's a famous business tycoon. Your parents are friends with him?"
"Oh yeah," Jazz said grumpily. I continued to stare out the window, but the name Vlad Masters struck a cord.
I know I've heard that name somewhere before. I know I have. I can't remember where, or why, but I know that at some point since I've been in existence, I have heard the name 'Vlad Masters' mentioned a few times.
Or, at least, a name eerily similar…
Okay, so, this is a really sucky place to end. But the chapter was getting so painfully long I had to cut it somewhere. I actually only have a little of chapter 5 written, and I want this story to have long chapters because nobody likes short ones. So the next update might not be for awhile... but if you know me, awhile is like, a week. Two weeks without an update is a big thing for me. XD Anyway, more fun plot development, whoop whoop. Thanks for all the reviews!