Wow. It's been a really long time since I've updated this…Very sorry about that. I have a little time now to write this because it's Easter break. So, I hope all of you like this chapter and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Shameless Advertising: Once again, I would really like for you people to read my other stories if you have the time…

Disclaimer: Come on, this is just the what, 15th time I've said this in this story alone? I'd think all of you know this by now. I do not own Danny Phantom.

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Death's Castle

Ch. 15

Paulina sat upon the rich, velvet covers of the elegant four poster bed that was in the guest room to which she had been assigned. Although she would have normally been soaking in the glory of the ridiculous amount of money that had gone into this room, the one she was using; now she was sobered by the somber air that had permeated the place due to the unlucky events that had taken transpired only a few moments before.

In this unusual lack of childish idiocy, Paulina took the time to actually think for once of things that didn't particularly revolve completely around her, and a little about her life, and little about how she died. It was odd in a way; how she was able to relate to the girl she had been fighting against not too long ago.

It was then, in that one moment where Paulina's mind was clear from the filth and trash she piled onto it, when she was determined to do something that most people that had met her called unlike her.

With a look that not normally graced her face, she got out off of her bed and walked out of the room. When she got out, her eyes widened at the sheer number of doors and hallways that made up the castle. She walked up to one of the guards, and asked politely, but still with a little snottyness that she hadn't been able to take completely out of her voice, where Sam was, or in her exact words,

"Uh, excuse me? Where's that pale girl with the black hair that almost killed that boy?"

When she got her answer, she marched imperiously up a flight of stairs into a guest room that was decorated even more lavishly than her own. For a moment, her usual attitude reared its ugly head with jealousy, but she forced that down and reminded herself why she was there. With a purposeful stride, she walked over to the figure in the chair, facing the window.

She still had her hand in front of her face, as though examining the green blood of the ghost she had taken a chunk out of even though it had been already washed away. The violet eyes were blank and darker than they were before, like she was trapped inside of her own mind. Perhaps she was stuck inside there, trying to fight her own personal demons and nightmares come to life.

Paulina put her hand upon Sam's shoulder with more gentleness than one would think she could muster. Sam didn't even twitch. A slight frown turned down the corner's of Paulina's mouth as she recalled some distant memory…

A young brown haired teenager sat slumped against the wall, her hand in front of her face. The bright pink nail polish was covered by the thick red substance that is human blood. The knife clutched in her grasp was one you could ordinarily find in the kitchen, it was scuffed up and the black handle was faded with age, but the end and the edges were very sharp. It had to have been to be able to kill someone so easily. Trails of blood flowed down her hand. With a gasp, she dropped the knife. It was almost like she thought it hadn't been there before. The knife clattered on the cold tile of the floor and the girl's sobs echoed eerily throughout the empty house.

The corpse was only a few feet away, still warm and bleeding.

Paulina's mouth pressed into a thin line, and she abruptly jerked her head, trying her hardest to banish the memory. But it doesn't work that way. With that memory still in her mind, she looked at Sam again, thinking about how odd it was that two such different people can do such similar things. With renewed determination, she shook her should slightly, mentally willing her to come out of her mental prison. When that didn't work, she just started talking, knowing that Sam would hear her whether she was acknowledged or not.

"Look, l-girl, I'm not the best at apologies or making people feel better, but I know I shouldn't have done what I did. And I'm sorry how things turned out. Just to let you know, I know how it feels like to hurt people you love and I know how it feels like to screw things up. I just thought it would be nice to know that you're not the only one."

With that said, she walked over to the door.

"Oh, yeah, and if you ever need someone to spill to, I'll listen."

She walked away, her pink heels clicking against the stone floor and echoing throughout the hall. Inside the room, Sam lowered her hand and blinked, turning her head to watch her go in a faint sense of disbelief that barely found a way to get past the confused jumble of her emotions.

It'sodd how people that are so different can find common ground in a time of tragedy.

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This is a bit of a transitional chapter, but there are some good points to pick up on. Just as a general rule, pretty much every one has a story of there own that will be revealed in little bits and pieces through this fic, at least, that's what I intend to do.

So, how did all of you like it? I'm so sorry that it took so long and that it's such a short chapter for such a long amount of time, but there wasn't much I could do about that. I have two new stories in the works and my mind is poking me with a stick and forcing me to write them.

Thanks to all of those who reviewed!

Please tell me how you liked this!