Disclaimer- Butch, not me, yadda... No, I don't know why these keep going...
Interlude 4: Game of Light and Shadows
... Oh, for the love of the eight million kami. Grumbling, Cade shut off the tv, rising from the couch as he did so. The apartment was still and silent, save for the almost subsonic humming that indicated that something had triggered the wards. And, he hoped, gotten a nasty surprise for its efforts. With the tv off, the room was lit only by the beams of the full moon shining in from outside... and the slightly reddish radiance leaking in from somewhere on his balcony.
Ghost-- check, he grumped, retrieving the ecto-blaster Jack Fenton had given him. Powerful one too, if I'm remembering Phantom's rundown correctly.
Red, the boy spirit had told him, was the color of a fixated ghost, one whose anchoring obsession was so strong as to give it a toehold on the physical world. Usually they were malevolent, since it required a great deal of rage and hate to sustain an obsession like that. Vengeance was a very typical motivation. Vengeance and bloodlust.
And you're going out there, aren't you? the little voice in the back of his head asked sardonically. Were you born stupid, or did the Academy training thump out your brains?
I don't have to deal with this from my own subconscious, he replied sharply, crossing to the sliding doors that lead out onto the balcony. Now shut up and let me concentrate.
The voice subsided, and Cade eased the door open, gun leading the way at all times. No sooner had the barrel poked out into the night than a cultured voice floated to him from the other end of the veranda.
"It's quite all right, Doctor, I mean you no harm. I simply dropped by for a little chat."
Uh huh. Cade snorted, but he stepped out onto the concrete, blaster still held ready. The ghost seated at his patio table was... well, frankly, it looked like a vampire from an old Hammer B-movie. Corpse-pale skin, red eyes, a cape... and black hair swept up into a pair of points that were disconcertingly like the horns of the devil. And there was something about that face... the shape of the bones, the set of the jaw... he'd seen it before. Recently.
A glimmer of light caught his eye, and he looked closer at the table. Set up on the aluminum surface was a chessboard, the pieces made of crystal and obsidian, sparkling coldly in the light of the full moon. The board was set up with the clear pieces facing his direction, the black beneath his opponent's hands. With a click, the pieces fell into place.
"Vlad Plasmius, I presume?" Cade drawled, tucking the ecto gun into the waist of his jeans. Danny Phantom's arch enemy probably wasn't there to fight, or there'd have been an attack already.
That doesn't, however, he thought with grim humor, mean I trust him as far as I could throw a Howitzer.
"Excellent deduction, Dr. Maboroshi. But then, deductive reasoning has always been one of your strong points, hasn't it? The Las Vegas police department lost a fine asset when you left."
"You can do research. I'm impressed," the psychiatrist snorted, taking the empty chair. "Of course you realize, this could be considered a conflict of interest."
Plasmius dismissed that with a wave of one gloved hand. "Nonsense. We're simply two men having a conversation over a chessboard. If it makes you feel any better, you're more than welcome to tell young Daniel whatever you wish about our discussion."
"I'll take you up on that," Cade said blandly, moving his first pawn. The crystal felt oddly cold under his fingers, despite the warmth of the night. "Kid's got enough trust issues as it is... Something I'm sure you've worked hard on."
"It's nice to have one's skill acknowledged," the ghost replied, countering with a knight. "Artists are so rarely truly appreciated."
Another snort. "Artist. Right. Answer me one thing though, on the level-- did you send Spectra?"
The aristocratic features hardened. "No. The woman has no intelligence, no finesse... she simply breaks things. I've no use for someone like her."
"Good." For a moment, pieces moved in surprisingly comfortable silence.
"You seem to have allied yourself quite strongly with Amity Park's spectral defender," Plasmius commented at last. "What happened to professional distance?"
"Doesn't apply when somebody hurts a kid. Especially someone who thinks their power and position makes them untouchable." Watching an obsidian bishop glide across the board, Cade was struck with a feeling of déjà vu.
Red eyes turned upward in amusement. "And if I said I didn't want to hurt him?"
The human stared levelly at his opponent for a moment. "I'd believe it... but it doesn't change the fact you would. You're obsessed, Plasmius, that much is obvious. I don't know why, or exactly with what, though I know it revolves around Danny. But it's pretty obvious that whatever it is, he doesn't want any part of it."
"Do children ever truly know what they want?"
"He's not a child. You've seen to that yourself." Light dawned "That's what you want, isn't it? You're not trying to BREAK him... you want him stronger. Which is why you haven't killed him when you had the chance. He's more powerful than you, isn't he? And if you can own him, great, if not... well, you can still do what you did with Pariah Dark. Wind him up, push the buttons, and let him go. Because he can take out enemies you can't even touch."
The ghost's smile widened, grew mocking. "Bravo, doctor, MOST impressive. I really shouldn't underestimate you."
"Somehow, I doubt you ever did," Cade replied, teeth gritted. Down boy, he told himself. Throttling a ghost is an exercise in futility anyway.
Suddenly he smiled. "Oh, and by the way... that's checkmate. You really shouldn't have been so eager to take my queen..."
The expression that crossed Plasmius's face was unreadable. Then he smirked, knocked over his king, and disappeared in a puff of bright red smoke.
For a long moment, Cade stared at the board, bits and pieces running through his head.
'And you should really pay less attention to the queen...'
'Young Daniel...'
High cheekbones. Patronizing smile. Manipulative, obsessive, sociopathic.
Vlad Masters.
Vlad Plasmius.
Two Vlads, two Danny's... and the disturbing feeling that he was still missing something...
Somehow, he just KNEW that somebody up there was laughing at him.