A/N: I recommend the book 'Salems Lot more than ANY of you can imagine; it's a WONDERFUL book (I only read it 'cause Darren Shan likes it XXXXXD) and I just loved it to peices. As mentioned, it's written by Stephen King. I didn't think the book was that terrifying, and I loved the movie to even bigger peices. xD
As for the movie I mention in here; the movie is called The Hills Have Eyes, and I, like Sam, did not find it scary at all. It was a really good movie, and like Danny, I sided with the mutants (but not for the same reasons as Danny--more or less because I feel the same way as Sam does). As Stephen King's 'Salems Lot, I recommend the movie if you want a rather sad and thrilling movie to watch.
And for future reference; any book/movie I EVER mention in this fanfic or any of my other fanfics, I totally recommend them. If I don't put the title/author and you want to watch/read (or if I don't make an author's note), just note and ask and I'll gladly tell you. -smiles-
AS ALWAYS, THIS CHAPTER IS FOR MY WONDERFUL FRIEND PHANTOM2B. I WILL NOT EVER CLAIM THAT THIS STORY IS MY OWN--MY FRIEND KITTEN THOUGHT OF THE IDEA AND...WELL...I'M JUST WRITING IT FOR HER. XD GO READ HER STORIES OR DIE!
Whee this chappy was fun to write. -grins stupidly- I was kinda depressed from braces so I forced myself to write it and then I couldn't get away from it XXD
I had a lot of fun with this and it made me smile when I finished...yeah. LOL so...just read.
Disclaimer: I'm not Butch Hartman, as I mentioned. I don't feel like going through this process, but I shall. I AM TOASTY PHANTOM, AND JUST BECAUSE I'M A FREAKAZOID LOVER OF DANNY PHANTOM DOES NOT MEAN I WILL EVER CLAIM TO OWN HIM (maybe claim to have an insane crush on him -coughs- but never own him). FWEEE!
Okay. Get away from my hyperness and...read.
A big bowl of popcorn entered the room, wearing a plaid purple, black, and green skirt as well as purple tights ending in black combat boots. It took Danny's muddled mind a few seconds to realize that behind the huge bowl had to be Sam's torso as well as Sam's head; bowls of popcorn just didn't sprout legs, dress gothic, and start walking around rooms.
Danny shook his head, trying to lift the fog. Sam placed the huge bowl down on the table, causing the table to vibrate slightly. Tucker licked his lips and grabbed a handful, shoving it in his mouth immediately. He looked like a chipmunk with a mouth full of acorns. Danny snorted at Tucker and grabbed a few pieces and popped them into his mouth, sucking off the butter and the little salt instead of chewing it.
"If you don't grab handfuls," Tucker said, his mouth full of popcorn, "then we'll never get this done." Popcorn flew across the room as Tucker started coughing.
"If we keep you, we won't have any popcorn to eat—you'll eat it all," Sam muttered as she ran to the closet to grab a broom and a dust pan. Tucker smiled impishly and grabbed two huge handfuls again.
"Sorry, Sam!"
"What ever," Sam said as she entered the room, immediately going to the popcorn that was splattered across the wall. Disgustingly, butter splayed across the white washed walls of the apartment. Gagging, Sam grabbed a towel (she had thought to bring those out) and wiped the wall clean.
Smirking slightly, Danny let his body sink into the couch comfortably, pretending all his worries and problems and especially responsibilities were sinking away as his mass melded into the couch. The couch was fluffy, comfortable, and squishy. It was an old couch, too. That made it all the more comfortable, in Danny's book.
Sam finished cleaning up and jumped into the couch, tucking her legs under herself as she curled into the corner. Tucker, on the other side of Danny, shoved more popcorn into his mouth. Sam picked up the remote and pressed the play button—she had decided to surprise Danny and Tucker with one of her newer favorite movies.
During the credits, Tucker moaned at one of the more graphic pictures. "Horror movie! What the hell, Sam?" Sam snickered evilly. Tucker flinched at the second rather graphic picture (in the credits, a rather slow song would play while a picture of landscaping rolled across the screen—and then the song would turn to shrieking and pictures of deformed people would pop up). Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker.
"Tuck? I doubt it's going to be that bad."
"But…but look at the people!" he gibbered. "Look at the dude's face! It's…scary!"
"So is your face," Sam responded idly, causing a fistful of popcorn to fly over Danny's head and into Sam's lap. Her jaw dropped open in mock anger as she flicked one of the over-stuffed pillows that were beside her into Tucker's chest. He flew back into the couch from the impact before flinging it at Sam—only to hit Danny square in the head.
"Watch it!" Danny growled, grabbing the pillow in his lap and smacking Tucker upside the head. Sam laughed, grabbing popcorn and sprinkling it in Danny's hair. Danny turned to Sam, letting a smile curl his lips, finally relaxing for the first time in a couple of days. The TV shrieked again and Tucker pulled the pillow over his face.
"I want my PDA!" he mumbled as he poked his head up to watch the TV just in time for a huge round of deformed faces and screams Sam reached over Danny and pulled the pillow away from his face, forcing him to watch the credits roll by.
"Tuck, watch," she told him in a rather freaked out voice—but she was faking and Danny and Tucker knew it. "You see those faces? That's what happens when you go on the computer too much."
Tucker glared at her and tried to grab the pillow that was behind Danny's head, but Sam stole that from Danny also, wagging a purple finger at him. "No! This is for your own good, Tucker Foley."
"Uhm. If it's about people who become freaks by going on the comp too much, then why are they showing landscaping pictures in the background?" Tucker shot back, causing Sam to smile slyly.
"Because they always played video games that had lots of landscapes in it."
"You're a retard!" Tucker shouted, causing Danny and Sam to snort with laughter. "I stopped playing that game after I found out Lancer played it!"
"Oh yeah, sure," Danny cracked, grinning from ear to ear. Tucker glared at him and brought his fist down on Danny's untidy hair.
"Hey," Danny said defensively, but Tucker and Sam knew he wasn't that miffed by Tucker's reaction.
"Okay, can we shut up? I actually happen to love this movie." Sam hugged the three pillows as if they were her babies, cradling her neck on them. Danny nodded, turning his head towards the TV. A very annoyed Tucker, however, sniffed.
"Why do you like the movie so much? It's supposed to scare you." Tucker was watching the movie now, his head resting in the palms of both of his hands. Sam chuckled and answered, still staring at the TV screen.
"Well, this actually can happen; I like it 'cause it got—and gets—people thinking about how bad radioactivity is to humans. And maybe once they realize what it does they'll stop the testing on animals!" The hero's in the movie were now being introduced, looking very groggy and very un-hero material.
Tucker, just wanting to diss the movie, poked Danny. "You look better than that even after you fight ghosts."
"Hey! They're trying to camp out!" Sam said defensively, trying to blow off the unneeded comment on the movie.
Danny faked a scowl and turned to his friend. "Was that an insult or a compliment…?"
Tucker grinned stupidly. "Insult."
"Oh," Danny said, his eyebrows knitting together. Than; "Hey!" Tucker snickered ruefully until Sam slapped him with one of the pillows. She put a finger to her lips, signaling that she wanted him to shut up, and the three continued to watch the movie.
To Danny's amazement, he could lose himself in the simplicity of the movie. He didn't have to think, nor try to unravel any complicated plot lines. He almost forgot about his responsibilities, worries, burdens, and everything in that category. Almost. A tiny part of his mind continued to swirl around in complicated frenzies, thinking about the trig homework he needed to complete as well as the English paper on 'Salems Lot, and he couldn't forget the US History report he had to write. He also worried that by the time the movie was over, some random ghost will have half completed his plot to world domination and had hurt somebody. He fought with himself to keep his butt glued to the couch, because he was jumpy enough to fly right out of the room in anything happened.
But, other than that, his mind was a blank slate as he stared at the TV and listened to Tucker voice his concerns for the hero's. He felt a tiny thrill of excitement prickle his spine as they did unbelievably stupid tasks, and felt himself incline towards the mutated people.
He smiled when he realized why he was siding with the mutants and not the humans. I'm sort of a mutant myself, after all. But as soon as the thought whipped across in his mind, it turned sour, causing his uplifted mood to crash. Mutant…mutated…evil. Demented. Deformed. Freak. If they're crazy, and they're mutated…who's to say that I'm not crazy?
A scowl pulled the soft lines of his face down harshly, dooming him to wrinkles in his old age. He folded his arms in front of him, resting his head against the back of the couch. He glared at the TV, now suddenly hating the mutants and their awful similarity to Danny Fenton—aka Danny Phantom, Ghost Boy extraordinaire.
It was unfair. Both of them—Danny as well as the crazy mutants—hadn't asked for the strangeness. Old people didn't ask to age. Cancer patients didn't ask to develop terminal cancer all over again. But it happened anyway, a cruel twist of fate given by the Supreme Being upstairs. But yet, as soon as they were giving the disease, the mutation, the sickness, or the change of DNA, they were expected to go on living normally. They were supposed to live normal lives, not complaining. They were supposed to protect every damn person and live with the cuts, bruises, and injuries he sustained from fighting—and no one was even thankful for his life endangerment?
The movie ended, leaving Danny's head in a depressed cloud. Sam and Tucker exchanged glances wearily, deciding telepathically not to do anything that would annoy Danny anymore than he obviously already was.
"I'm going to go on Ghost Patrol," Danny grunted as he quickly went ghost and flew out of the house.
Sam looked down at the ground. "He didn't like the movie?" she questioned. Tucker shrugged helplessly.
"Dunno. But something ticked him off wildly."
---
Danny's eyes were pulled into angry slits as he flew against the wind, fighting it with all his might and succeeding. He was looking for ghosts, true, but he was mainly trying to clear out his head. The movie had shaken him almost to the point where he was mad at the physical movie itself, as crazy and psychotic as that sounded. But he couldn't help it; he felt as if the movie were made to just annoy him.
He sighed and grumbled and completed his spin around the outskirts of Amity Park, just a blur up in the darkening skyline. If anyone was watching, they would only see a black streak fly across the starry sky, and then quickly fade into the blackness of night, only to reappear later, blocking more stars. No one would think twice about it; people would assume it was a star just going out from millions of light years away.
Turning into the city and going intangible, Danny began his round on the innards of Amity Park. He checked every household's windows, smiling slightly as the sleeping children rolled by, completely unaware of the ghosts that might be infecting the town and trying to destroy it from within. Cars were parked outside the houses, dust beginning to litter the light colors. The darker ones were just blurs in the night as Danny was.
He sighed heavily as all too soon he had checked ever nook and cranny in Amity Park. The only thing left for him to do was return to Sam's house, apologize for his behavior, and try not to ruin the rest of the night for Tucker and Sam.
---
Valerie got home from her night-shift at the Nasty Burger, groaning as her numb muscles fought against the remaining ten steps to the hard and chunky couch. Dude, I get more exercise from working at Nasty Burger than doing all my pull ups and stuff here! Of course, Valerie didn't really believe that; the Nasty Burger just tired her out more than her exercises.
She sighed and stretched out her sore muscle legs, grabbing her backpack which was resting on the other side of the couch.
Sitting in a full split, she started to work on her trig homework, scrawling helplessly across the page. She had no idea what the answers were, and her dad couldn't afford a calculator, so she had to do a lot of the problems at school with one of the calculators, but the time they gave her wasn't enough time to complete the assignment. Wanting to growl at her backpack, she grabbed her English paper and checked over it. She decided it didn't need any more work so she threw it back into her backpack lazily.
Pulling herself out of the split, she zipped up her backpack and walked it over to her room. She walked in and grabbed the strange hover board from under the bed and studied it intently.
It felt heavy in her light grasp, making her fingers wrap tighter around the hard and reflective metal surface. It made her feel queasy to look at it; her other one was so powerful; and Vlad never told her which upgrades he put on new hover boards. She shuddered at the thought of how powerful she knew this new one would be.
Her mind was eager to try it out, but the rest of her body trembled at the thought of being bucked off yet again. She would have to wait until her father was asleep; she knew that. Her father would cling to her jump-suited leg for dear life and beg her not to go; she knew he needed her desperately, but he was acting like a tiny child to its mother too often for Valerie to bare quietly. She did need to get out; her life was not centered on being the breadwinner of the house. She was a high schooler; a child. She didn't need the extra pressure of working when she was fourteen and three quarters.
Scowling, she gingerly climbed onto her bed, fully clothed, and closed her eyes. After a few moments her hair began to prickle uncomfortably against her neck so she pulled it away, letting it fan out around her and on to her pillow.
She opened her eyes and stared up at the cracked ceiling. I can't believe we have to live here, she moaned inwardly, hating Danny Phantom and his ghostly ways even more than she had five minutes before, if that was possible. The plaster hung loose on the ceiling as well as the walls, where embarrassed landlords had lazily and quickly ran small amounts of it over the holes and cracks to make the room look more appealing. But there was nothing they could do to make it look nice to Valerie; Valerie knew she was living in a rat hole, and she knew there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it. Even if the house had Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp in the room next door (or to either side of her) she'd still think that the house was a cruddy place to raise a kid.
She sighed and closed her eyes again, letting her mind sink into unconsciousness.
She was aroused to awareness when she felt a cold hand shaking her awake, it's low and throaty voice whispering in her ear.