G'day everyone, and no I'm not Australian! The Sage of Dreams here with my very first ever story, and I worked my fingers to the bone to present it. Before we begin here, I'd like to take a relatively small chunk of your lives away to make a few things clear that are very important to me… SO DEAL WITH IT!
First, I believe I am posting in the Danny Phantom section, and there IS NO section labeled "OCs of Danny Phantom", right? Well I'm glad that's clear, because I intend to hold true to that. There is an OC in this story, and a large piece if the first few chapters will be dedicated to introducing him and describing his history because he is significant to the plot, but I assure you, this is a DANNY PHANTOM STORY. I really hate it when a story in the Danny Phantom section is nothing more than their own personal Mary-Sue half ghost, so beat the hell out of me if I ever wane from that path and put me in my place, thank you.
Also, please note that I am new here. I've read and read and read and at last decided to make my own story like so many here have, but I am still a beginner. I am extremely critical of my own work and tend to… umm, how to phrase it… loathe… every word I create. I crave constructive criticism, be it harsh or light, in order to improve, to keep writing and to keep the readers happy. In other words… Please READ AND REVIEW, and without further adieu, I hope you enjoy my creation, "Deeper Into the Portal."
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Icy fog enshrouded the city of Amity Park, blocking out the starlight in the April sky. It was 9:00PM, Thursday night. Few lights shown throughout the city save the streetlights, the bright as day Fentonworks operation center sign, and one particular window on the side of an apartment building on the side of the city opposite of the Fentonworks building. Cracks along the cement walls, moss invading the foundation at the sidewalk, and broken windows gave most who passed by it decide to try somewhere else for even a temporary dwelling.
Within the dim pinnacle in the night, machines and papers littered the floor. The papers were blueprints, not far from the corresponding invention, all bore insignias of different ghost research associations. The inventor, a young man at his laptop, searched the vast realms of cyberspace, an elbow resting on his desk holding his chin.
"Hmmmm…" the young man grumbled as he skimmed through the web page dedicated to the research and development of paranormal investigation. He had seen the same schematic for an ectoplasm-powered laser nine times already on different sites, and each time it was more useless to him. All he was able to find on the net find was data about the technology used in the field and the organizations dedicated to the research. However, these things were far from what he was after, considering he already knew everything he needed to know about the tech.
"Dammit…" he grumbled in frustration. He stood up from the chair he had been searching in for hours, slamming his fist on the desk before his laptop. He stood about 6'1 and 17 years of age, and had brown hair, parted at the side so it covered part of his face, including one of his sharp green eyes. His eyes, however, had recently developed dark rings around them, in his sleepless efforts to locate the data he so desperately craved. His body was forever clad in casual and baggy clothing, usually a green T-shirt and long black shorts. Though he vaguely worried about getting out of shape from excessive idling at his desk, he was neither muscular nor skinny nor fat, just decently built. Regardless of his lack of mobility, his education in human health allowed him to maintain a healthy diet that kept him in shape.
He turned to abysmally observe his workspace, the living room of the third rate apartment he refused to call home. The only upside to the apartment was it was near his junior college, where he took engineering, algebra, physical education and science classes. He had crafted the inventions littering the room with the knowledge he had already accumulated from scouring the internet: a radar that locates ectoplasmic entities within fifteen kilometers, a device that emits a force field that repels ectoplasmic energy, a makeshift projectile weapon that fires bullets fused with ectoplasm, and various other unfinished projects. They had been considerably easier to make than he had thought at first; he was able to obtain the parts for them either from the dumps, the engineering lab or taking stuff apart, and then make shifting the design. The real problem had been acquiring the key component that bound them all together, ectoplasm. But there are methods to getting what you need in school, one of them being knowing the people who make a business of hacking into other business's mainframes.
He picked up the gun, actually an FN Pro 9 handgun configured inside and out and now looking like a too-bulky-for-practical-use futuristic laser, and considered shooting his laptop. 'Where the hell is the data? Someone out there has to have real sightings of ghosts!' He looked over his shoulder and eyed his laptop. Anyone who looked into those eyes could see the instability in them. They held perpetually a deep sentiment of a tortured hatred few were meant to know. Only those who looked closely enough, however, could see his most prominent feature in those eyes, a deep, almost lateral scar along his face that ran from his eyebrow down over his right eye, and over the top half of his cheek. It was an every day reminder of his own worthlessness, the way he saw it, worth he worked tirelessly to redeem. That was why he his it behind the drape of hair. The anger rise in him again just thinking about it. He dropped the gun, slammed one hand on the desk and used the other to try his search again. Again, all it brought up were sites featuring stolen designs and clueless research groups. His hands ran through his hair hopelessly. 'This is ridiculous. Everything can't be classified or complete bull shit…'
He looked down at the plasma weapon he had carelessly dropped. He had a hard time not remembering how this pathetic chapter of his life started every time he looked at it.
The young man once had a name. He once had an fairly normal life. He once had a small group of close friends who led also, for the most part, normal lives. He once lived in a quiet, forested, yet slightly sugar coated town along a river south of Amity Park. His parents had split up and abruptly moved to different counties, leaving him there soon after he turned 17. Living alone, he quickly became very responsible. He was also very cunning. He and his friends weren't exactly model students; they always got into mischief, fights, anything the useless police force would be responsible for, except for anything involving drugs. The young man was as clean as one could be, never once indulging in mind-altering substances. He was 'straight as an arrow', often said by his friends, earning him the nickname 'Straightedge', which he passively, yet proudly wore. But suffice to say, for the most part, they had never been caught thanks of his excellent skills in evading trouble. Though when they were, he managed to weasel them out by laying the blame elsewhere entirely or blaming a disliked peer. Of course, he often got them into trouble himself, usually caused by a condition that affected his vocabulary skills called 'smart ass'. He and his friends were unpopulars, but they were also the unpopulars that knew popularity meant virtually nothing. Yes, he and his friends didn't have life by the strings, but they had it by the reigns. They planned on going to the junior college in Amity Park and living together so they could help and support each other.
But it never worked out like that. His life took an unexpected turn that even he couldn't control. A turn that warped his world, his life, and eventually, his mind.
The young man once had a name, and it was Ayden Faust.
"Hey! Steven! Wait up!"
"WHAT?…" Steven stopped dead in the school hallway and turned defensively, "Oh, it's just you. What do you want, Ayden?" Steven replied shakily.
"Pffha-ha-ha-ha!" Ayden laughed at Steven's surprise. He'd always thought that being the messenger and lapdog of the local black market would be something to take with prudence, but Steven brought high-strung to a new level. Steven was a very big guy, 6'6 at 17 with an intimidating build, a broad face, angry eyes and hair that he allowed to do whatever it wanted. Ayden wasn't able to understand why someone like that would be so nervous on the job, even if it was an illegal one. He was a football player, a jerk at many times and little confrontational, but also kind of dim, therefore posing no threat to Ayden's well being as it did for others, "I just wanted to know if you had my response note from Clara."
"Sh-shut up! Not so loud, you-" Steven paused, "YOU had one? Mr. Straightedge himself ordered from Clara?" He then reached into his pocket, pulled out a paper clipped handful of folded note cards, and proceeded to look for one marked 'Ayden' in disbelief. He was shocked to find one.
Ayden grinned passively, "Couldn't help it. It's only a video game, anyway. I'm just too short on funds to buy it legit," Ayden swiped the card from Steven.
Ayden,
Thank you so much for your business. Your order will arrive in four to five days.
Clara
Directly below the signature was a kiss mark from an apparently very full set of lips coated in blood red lipstick.
The legend of Clara said to have originated from an unpopular girl of the very lowest social standing in the high school. However, one day in computers, she discovered she had a talent for hacking by ordering pizza for every class the next day, creating a huge smudge on the schools credibility. She then hacked her way to money, beauty and power. But to this end, many wondered why she would run a petty black market from within a high school under the false name 'Clara', and theorized that it was for sheer thrill. The kiss seal was her trademark.
Ayden eyed the thick wad of notes Steven stuffed back into his pocket, "Damn, the woman's gotta have some burly lips…"
"So it's said. I've never actually met her," Steven sighed, finally regaining his composure, "Good for business, though. So, you wanna give me a hand?"
"What do you need?"
"Just to move a crate for Ms. Entwood."
"The astronomy teacher?" Ayden grumbled, "That can't be light…"
"She said as much, so help me out."
The crate was ridiculously heavy. Ayden wondered why they didn't have a forklift for such a job, but guessed they didn't need one with Steven around. Ayden carried while walking backwards as Steven walked forward doing most of the work. It was times like that that reminded him why Steven was Clara's lackey: he was inhumanly strong.
Halfway there, Ayden began losing his grip, and Steven must have noticed, "Hey, need a break?"
"E-heh… I wouldn't mind," Ayden carefully set his side down, Steven doing the same. He shook his fingers a little, allowing the correct color to return to them from the uncomfortable purple. The design of his hands was for holding video game controllers and pencils. A crate full of telescopes was a little new.
Steven laughed at Ayden, rather cruelly, "Ha-hahaha! So, you can't handle this little crate?"
Ayden glared passively at him, "Please don't start with me Steven. You're hardly worth it."
"'Scuse me? You have a problem with me?" Steven stomped up in Ayden's face.
Ayden decided he was finished helping him carry the telescopes. He glared up into Steven's eyes with no fear in face or mind, "Well, at the top of the list, you make the testosterone concentration in the room to high for my comfort. Next, you're a melodramatic emotional turncoat between edgy and dickface, and last, for the self-proclaimed school superstar that claims to keep the football team winning, you're letting yourself go pretty bad."
"What do you mean melo-" Steven blinked, "Letting myself go? What are you talking about? I'm in the best shape of my life!"
"Is that so? I seem to recall you handling much bigger things by yourself showing off to the cheerleaders, fruitlessly I might add, and now you can't handle this thing yourself? Heh, best shape indeed."
"You little punk! Maybe if I beat your face in, you'll see what kinda shape I'm in!" Steven reared back and swung at Ayden's face.
Ayden swiftly glided out of the way behind the crate, hands resting behind his back, "And slow, too! But that won't prove a thing. How 'bout you prove me wrong on a field where we're even, Steven? The gambling field."
"Heh, I'm listening…."
"You take this crate to Entwood yourself. If you can make it all the way without a break, you win. But if you drop it, slip or stumble, you have to…" Ayden looked to the ceiling in thought, "confess your love to Christen Moore."
"Wh-what? I don't like that nasty… thing!" Steven knew Christen all too well. She was the most ugly, fat and obnoxious sophomore in the school. Among other girls, her popularity was no issue for her charismatic and fun loving nature, but when it came to boys, EVERY-SINGLE-ONE, she acted as flirtatious as possible. Most knew it was just a ruse to annoy, or in some cases, was paid to perform in such a manner as revenge and such. In any case, she was an expert in making men suffer.
"But you know as well as I do, she likes you," Ayden shot him an evil grin.
Steven swallowed. Ayden was right, he was her very favorite to pester. If Ayden forced Steven to say he likes her, there would be no end to the torture, not to mention the end of his social life. He looked to the crate of Entwood's telescopes. He knew he could do it. He knew he make it without dropping it if he had to. He'd lifted bigger things before just messing around. He smirked to Ayden, "Fine. But if I WIN, then you have to… run out onto the stage in the next school assembly and drop your pants in front of everybody! Hah!"
"Hmmm… Better me than you I guess. Deal," Ayden leaned against the lockers with folded arms to allow Steven to pass.
"Huh? Better you than… what's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing. Well, get to it pal. Christen can't wait forever!" he made a mock longing face, quoting a phrase she'd once given Steven.
Steven grumbled and knelt down. He heaved the crate up and began to walk. And as he did, giving all his focus to the task at hand and making absolutely sure he didn't lose the bet, Ayden placed his hands in his pockets and strolled down the hall in the other direction.
"Nimrod. No witness, null and void. I believe it was jocks like you that made that rule in this school," he said to himself uncaringly. Ayden found no challenge in outsmarting Steven's type.
When he turned a corner, he heard something that lifted his mood a thousand times. He heard a thud with a muffled crash at the same time.
Ayden grinned happily and looked back, "No way. Are you serious, he DROPPED IT? Witnessing, witnessing!" he dashed back and poked his head around the corner. He saw about the last thing he expected to see, "… What the-?"
A rapping on the door broke him from his trance. The distraction relieved him as it interrupted the flashback he had all too frequently, but a new frustration struck him, someone interrupting his work. He stood, kicking the gun under the desk, and proceeded to the door.
In the world we live in today, humans are given titles at birth. This young man discarded the one given to him, it had lost its meaning to him. But since one cannot ultimately function without such a title, he decided to use the name that came after his original. He had become known as Faust.
The door opened with a creak that hinted hinge failure. At Faust's door were two of very few people who he had ever considered friends, Amber and Greg. Amber was a short girl with mid-back length dirty blond hair, a very cute girl Faust had thought in his weaker moments, with wide yet graceful eyes. She was usually dressed in a pair of black jeans and a pink belly shirt that he and Greg had often found an odd combination. But she would simply smile and respond that it was what she liked, and if she cared what other people thought, she'd be dressing like all the other sluts in town, which neither of the boys particularly wanted to see on their good friend. Greg was a bit bigger than Faust standing at 6'3, seeming never to leave his gray overcoat. He was a little on the chubby side, but it only made him more intimidating. He was often mistaken for a goth, but was more than often the one in the group that had lifted the others spirits. He had slicked back black hair, kind of timid brown eyes and contrasted with a gruff face, only missing 5 o'clock shadow to make him look like a thug fresh from an action or mafia movie.
The two of them had had little contact with their friend they now had to call Faust for a while. They didn't like it, but if they didn't call him Faust, he wouldn't speak with them. Of course they knew why, but they had grown weary of their best friend's attitude. Up until now, they had been doing his deliveries for him from Clara, but they were determined to have a serious conversation with him today.
"Hi guys," Faust said flatly, trying hard to mask his frustration. They were doing delivering his orders after all, "Got my order?"
Greg pulled out a small brown box from his pocket. He held it in his hand away from Faust, looking at the package rather than him. Amber stared firmly into his eyes.
Faust sighed, "You wanna come in or something?"
"Once you wipe that dirty look off your face," Greg mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.
Faust was a little surprised to find his face felt tense, flexed into a distasteful glare. He allowed his face to soften, "Sorry, I guess I'm just kind of…"
"Whatever A-…… Faust…" Amber trudged into his door and slumped on the couch, "We know how you've been the last… how long has it been?"
"Um… three months now. Amazing that you could live off the insurance money for this long, dude!" Greg found his way over to an armchair through all the devices scattering the floor.
"Hah!" Faust laughed dryly. He closed the door and made his way into the kitchen, which had a parlor opening to the living room, preventing any hindrance of communication, "Well, my parents left so fast, they left behind a lot of stuff behind. Stuff I guess they thought would be safe there until they decided to come 'visit' me. Good thing I schemed my way into putting it all in my name, I could live off this money for another year, at least."
"But why?" Amber asked hopefully, "The only time you really go out is to go to the J.C. or shopping, why not get a job and get some extra money? Then you could get a new house and live a lot nicer and-"
Faust interrupted her with a poisonous gaze. He knew where this was going, "Spend more time with friends? Yeah…" he reached into the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water, "You want anything?"
Greg raised his hand a little, "Yeah, soda!" Faust raised an eyebrow to him. By now he should have known well he didn't have, and never had in his fridge any soda. Greg blushed a little, "Uh, I mean water dude," he threw him the bottle he was holding and averted his glance to Amber, who shook her head. He reached in for another.
"Uh, yeah, spend more time with friends too! And speaking of which…" Amber looked to Greg, who was drinking his water absently. He noticed her head nodding to Faust in an obvious signal.
Clueless for a split second, he realized what she was doing. He reached into his pocket, "Oh yeah! Um, Amber and I are going to the circus next week! My little cousin was going to go, but it's not your clown and juggler circus. So my aunt changed her mind about letting her go, and we have an extra ticket! And we thought… you know… maybe…."
"Yeah, I do know," Faust sat in his desk chair between the two, took a swig from the water, and tried his search again, "You wanted me to go out with you guys to try and make me forget everything I needlessly bind myself to and try to bring Ayden back, right?" he asked incredulously.
Amber and Greg looked to each other, amber sighing. They knew he would see through the ploy in an instant, that they couldn't fool him like that. Amber got up and closed his laptop.
"That's right Faust. You don't need to be up here for the rest of your life and frankly, we're about sick of this flat-fusty-flaccid-fucking-Faust!" her hand remained on his laptop and she stared coldly into his visible eye.
Faust stared back, a hint of surprise widening his eyes. An awkward silence veiled the room, Greg frozen with the bottle of water to his lips. Faust eventually broke the silence by shifting reluctantly in his chair and leaning to the floor. He reached under his desk. Feeling around, he touched the gun, nudged it a little farther back, and pulled out a dictionary. He skipped to the F section mumbling, "Fusty, fusty…."
Amber smacked the book away, "Dammit, what's wrong with you? Why can't you just get over it? I kind of thought the therapy helped you, but I was obviously mistaken. Just tell me Faust," Amber grabbed his shoulders, giving him a light shake, "Where's Ayden? What do I have to do to get him back? What's going on in there?"
Faust threw his arms up, throwing hers away, standing up to meet her glare, "Ayden's gone. I can't bring him back, and don't want to. I don't know what the hell 'fusty' means, but to use 'flaccid', well, how long did it take you to think that up, huh?" he waited for a response, only to receive her hair in his face as she turned her head away with a slight blush. He smiled at this response, "A while, huh? Well let me tell you this, Ayden was the 'flaccid' one, so I decided to grow out of it. I was tired of being so damn weak. I refuse to let anything like what happened happen again."
Amber morphed her expression from furious to distressed, "What?… You still think it was ghosts? I thought you were over that!"
"When did I say that? Did you think just because they released me from therapy that they ripped the truth out of me? Did you?" Faust frowned at her, "I don't care what you two believe, it was a ghost that caused… EVERYTHING! That ghost did everything, and I intend to prove it to you!"
"Hey! Leave her alone Faust!" Greg finally decided to speak up and revel a bit of his intimidating side. He stood up and stormed up to Faust, turning him by the shoulder so if there was anyone he wanted to yell at, it was going to be him, "If you want to get in someone's face, it's gonna be mine. Now what the hell are you talking about? You're still stuck on the idea of ghosts being responsible for the accident?"
Faust smirked, truly amused at Greg's naivety, "What was your first clue, the identity swap or the ghost hunting devices that all over the place?"
"WHAT? That's what the deliveries are for? To make weapons?" Amber exploded. She collapsed back into her seat, holding her head horrorstruck, "What happened to you…?"
"What happened to me? If you must know, I'll tell you," Faust ignored Greg and knelt in front of Amber, his arms resting over his knee, "I was emptied. I forgot how to feel joy or love or sadness. I can't taste my food or feel the relief of water running down my throat. I can't enjoy the presence of a woman, and you know what?" Faust stood, Amber meeting his eyes, "I don't want to. I feel clear, focused and strong. Strong enough to show you, show the world just what changed me. I'll prove to the world that ghosts exist."
Greg snickered out of the silence, drawing Faust's attention. His arms were crossed solemnly, "And how are you going to do that? All you've got are these… things you're making, the bogus news from Amity Park and your own deranged illusions."
"Feh, you think so? First of all the Amity news is true, otherwise they wouldn't call it 'news'. Second of all, these aren't for display, they're for use. And third," his face curled into a light snarl, "you have no place to tell me what's real or not because you never even watch the Amity news."
"No, I watch the news that has a foothold in the world, like CNN. You know, credible news," Greg proudly stated.
"Yeah," Faust huffed. He opened his laptop again and opened a folder that contained offline references, "You watch media that follows a code that gets ratings while maintaining their credibility, keeping their ratings up. That entails reporting only two things: negative stuff like death and war so people watch, and concrete stuff so they can't be wrong later. Now, does the supernatural come off as concrete? I think not. So tell me," he clicked through a few sub folders that held separate categories, "how do you know what has really happened in the world? They could be handing out food to children in the Middle East, and they wouldn't report it in 'credible news' unless a car were to explode next to them, killing them all."
Greg and Amber looked at each other a little surprised, remembering that on the news. Faust finished opening files and the screen showed a formal report with a picture of an angry Asian woman.
"Look," Faust instructed. Both teens looked over one of his shoulders to see, "This is Harriet Chin, a former reporter for the Milwaukee Journal."
Interrupting Faust, Greg snickered something. He and Amber glanced at him.
"Hahahaha!" Greg burst out, "Harry-Chin!… Get it! Harriet-"
Faust snapped his fingers in his face, "Focus!" he hissed, "She filed a report on a ghost attack at her college reunion at Vladimir Master's mansion, during which, a Ghost resembling a vampire possessed someone at the party known as Jack Fenton, one of the world's leading Ghost Experts, and absolutely destroyed the place. But he managed to break free of the ghost's hold and defeat it."
Amber stopped anything he might have had left to say, "So what's your point? There always are going to be idiotic stories like that scattered around the internet, and there are going to be two kinds of people that view them: the kind that go back and refine their Google search and the kind like you."
"My point, my dear," Faust abruptly began speaking as she had to him, "is that she was immediately fired following her report! Refusing to give her story the slightest chance, or her a second one, they threw her away because she wasn't 'credible'. She broke the code, and for that, she was cast out, thus hiding the story, true or not. Point in question, you don't have any idea what's really happening…" he got up from his seat to go to his window. He could actually see a vague image of the Fentonworks building from his apartment, "I didn't believe in ghosts either. Up until three months ago, I was a happy student getting ready for graduation and life. A life with my friends that would lead to a house and a job and maybe even a wife and kids. That was the path I was on. But-"
"You still can be! It's not too late! And I think if you just went to the circus with us, you'd see that!" Amber pleaded.
There was another silence.
Faust had felt something odd within him. He lost his focus on the Fentonworks building in the distance. He began to fabricate instances in which he was at the circus with the two of them, eating junk food and watching amazing performances. And he was enjoying it. He thought of catching up with what had been lost in the last few months. He thought of getting away for the day and forgetting his past. He thought of time with Amber-
That one snapped him back to reality. He didn't do those things anymore. If he did, he would be succumbing to the weakness that had cost him so much already. That part of him was dead, and he intended to keep it that way.
"…Faust? Hey, Faust, talk to me!"
Faust had his hands on the windowsill, far away in a state of deep thought, her words bringing him out abruptly. He looked at her quickly, causing the force to blow the hair away from his right eye, exposing his long scar. Startled, Amber backed up a step.
He righted himself and fixed his hair, "Amber, I understand what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it a lot. It means a lot to me that there are still people that care about me, regardless of what I've become. But-"
"No, stop right there," she raised a hand in front of his face, "No but's. Just come along, okay? I heard a little glimmer of hope in there for you, so there's no choice in the matter, you're coming with us."
"Amber-"
"No, you're going, and that's that," she grinned mischievously. Greg, as if on queue, emptied his pocket of the package from Clara and the ticket, leaving them on the desk, "And don't give me any excuses about how you'll be too busy, 'cause you aren't getting anymore deliveries from Clara."
"You… Wait, what?"
Greg hurried out giving Faust a wave, and Amber scurried after, closing the door behind her, "See you next Saturday!"
Faust outstretched a hand desperately, "W-waitaminute, what do you mean, 'you aren't getting-' hey! Amber, wait!"
"Are you sure this is right? I mean, you really think there's hope for him?" Greg asked.
"I learned a lot from him. From Ayden, I mean. How to manipulate minds and read personalities to understand how to control them. All we did was plant the seed to his recovery," Amber said flatly. She wasn't use to acting, especially with friends, and it left her emotionally drained.
"Well, Ayden was never wrong about this stuff. I just hope it works on Faust," Greg gave her a small smile and started to the elevator.
Amber folded her arms as if cold, following. She looked back once to the door she'd left, "I just hope the seed has enough food to grow."
And so, Faust was left there, hand reaching to the door, at a loss for words. 'What the hell just happened?' he asked himself, 'What did she mean I'm not getting anymore deliveries from Clara?' he picked up the small box, about the size of can of soup. He grinned lightly, 'Oh well. She probably meant she wouldn't be the one delivering anymore. And even if I couldn't get anymore, this is the last one I really need.'
He ripped open the brown paper, revealing the small white ivory chest. He'd specifically requested that it come in its own custom carrying case. He opened the lid to reveal a small sleek tube, black with green rings around it. He removed it contently.
"An ectoplasmic particle conversion chamber? For me? You shouldn't have!" he sat on his couch and picked up a machine, a gun that was not make shifted through another gun, but a homemade one. It was longer than the other was, and much more advanced. It looked similar to a blow dryer, but not made from one. Though, looking back on it, he regretted not using one in the construction, it would have been a lot easier. It was sleek in design and colored silver, made of light aluminum. Its function was radically different from the first one. He clicked the EPCC into the back, causing the green lines on it to light up. Faust's eye lit up, "Wow. Didn't expect it to work right away! Nice…."
Satisfied with his invention, he retuned to his laptop. He needed to find as many ghost sightings as he could in order to find some sort of pattern in their appearances. His objective was to find that pattern and hunt down a ghost. If he could catch one, preferably one that he had a personal grudge against, he could show everyone what had happened to him. The event that changed his life would no longer be an unsolved mystery, but an awakening the world over.
One problem, he'd tried everything. There was nothing left in his brain that could reveal itself as a possible candidate for his searches, and after nights of searching, he was just plain tired of it. Despite the refusal in is mind, he sat in his chair and went online to the search site. His fingers rested at the keys.
'C'mon brain, just a few more. I'm sure we're close… just a few more searches, and….'
His head fell forward onto the keyboard. He was so tired of searching and pretty much just tired. He pounded his fist once into the desk in protest, and prepared for an uncomfortable sleep at his desk like so many before….
One that never came.
As his eyes closed, his screen lit up unexpectedly. He raised his head wearily, wondering what popup got past his security. It was no popup. He was amazed to find himself at the Fentonworks website. A picture of Jack Fenton adorned the top left corner of the screen, Maddie Fenton the top right, and countless links to all sorts of ghost related topics lined the sides. How it happened, he had no idea.
Faust stared blankly at the screen, "Why the hell… didn't I think of this… before!?"
With a newfound vigor, he began to scan and print all sorts of data for an hour and a half. The sighting that there were most of was the ghost known to most as Danny Phantom. The most recent poll showed that about ninety percent of those who believed in ghosts in Amity believed him to be a hero rather than villain, but there were still skeptics, so he had many names. Danny Phantom, simply Phantom, Inviso-Bill…
Ghost child….
Faust glanced at the time at the bottom of the laptop screen, '11:37... I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed. I'm sure there will be plenty for me to do soon enough…' Faust stood slowly, the ache of being in one position for too long appearing to his senses. He grabbed his water bottle, clicked his desk light off and headed for his bedroom.
Before closing the door to his room, he glanced back over his shoulder at the ivory box on his desk the EPCC had come in. It was ornate in carvings of elephants and the Buddha, specked with gold. The shadows splashed across Faust's face gave his snide grin a tint of diabolism.
"Yes… I'll have plenty to do very soon."
Earlier that night…
A group of people strode carefree out of a movie theater, talking and laughing. Among them were named Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley, and of course, Danny Fenton.
"That was the worst movie ever," Sam grumbled.
"How can you say that? I thought it was awesome!" Tucker countered.
"What did you think, Danny?" Sam asked in an attempt to tip the balance.
"It was alright, I guess. The action seemed a little too… impossible. I mean, it was one thing when he caught the rocket when the guy launched it at him, but when he threw it back at the guy?" Danny folded his arms thoughtfully, "That was just over the top... and kinda gross."
"Yeah, and not just that, but it showed the cows being slaughtered! And what they were using them for…" Sam shuddered.
"Was there a scene like that? I wasn't really watching them…" Tucker's eyes became sly, "I had my eyes on the lead actress…."
Sam stopped abruptly, "TUCKER! Did you even notice that there wasn't a disclaimer stating that no animals were harmed in the making of the film?"
Danny laughed, "Sam, I think we already know that Tucker didn't see anything past that woman's, uh…" he looked down to think of a better term, "…torso, and let's face it, there wasn't much that could be seen past that, and we didn't see any disclaimers because you dragged us out of the theater before we even saw the end!"
"Yeah! And you just knew she was gonna take it off at the end!" Tucker drooped.
Sam placed her hands on her hips and smiled, "As a matter of fact, I did…."
Danny and Tucker looked at each other, the back to Sam, "You knew?" they said in unison.
"Yep. A little pre-feature research can save one the grief of watching a lousy end," she said contently.
Tucker's jaw dropped, and he fell to the sidewalk on his knees, "NOOOOOOO! Sam, how could you? How could you do this to me…?"
Danny knelt down and put his hand on his friends shoulder, "Calm down Tuck. It'll make it to video soon enough…."
Sam wasn't as sympathetic, not possessing the Y chromosome, "Oh, please. It wasn't your time to see that. The only reason we were in there at all was because Danny phased us through the wall."
"Yeah," Danny stood, "Tonight's lesson, we learned R rated movies are overrated, and that's more than we learned in Lancer's class all day."
Sam stared at Danny for a moment, eyebrow raised. They both looked down at Tucker, now on the ground, lightly sobbing.
Danny cleared his throat, "Tonight, Sam and I learned that R rated movies are overrated!"
Sam grinned, but Tucker rose to his feet, his eyes burning with determination.
"I'm going back in there! Maybe it's not too late!" he began charging back to the theater.
Danny sighed, knowing he couldn't let his best friend get into trouble like that. He turned intangible, kicked off the ground and soared at Tucker, and dove into his back. Tucker froze, a green aura surrounding him for a split second, blinked once, and revealed his new green eyes and a sly smile.
Danny, possessing Tucker, turned back to Sam. He stuck out Tucker's chest, "Hi, I'm Tucker Foley, and my testosterone level is currently…" he felt Tucker's wrist thoughtfully with two fingers, "…twenty three hundred fifty seven! Would you like to go out with me?"
Sam rolled her eyes, "C'mon 'Tucker'. There's another reason I had us duck out early," she began down the sidewalk, Danny jogging to catch up.
"What's that? Did I sleep through Lancer handing out homework or something?"
Sam raised her watch to Tucker's eyes, and Danny saw the little hand pretty far up the left side. 9:45.
"Whoa!" Danny widened Tucker's eyes and smiled, "Nice save Sam! I think if I miss one more curfew-" Sam interrupted Danny.
"-You'll be thrown in the Fenton stockades for a week, you told me twice."
"Oh, right," Danny scratched the back of Tucker's head, "Well, that among other things. Dad would cover the stockades, Mom would put me on everything duty, and Jazz, I don't even want to go there…."
"I don't know why she would care, there haven't been any ghost attacks for two almost weeks, and you've only been slipping in your curfews because you never carry your watch anymore!"
"I told you, Skulker trashed it the last time he attacked me! Jeez, I still have bruises from that one…."
"Oh please. You heal so fast, you couldn't get workers comp at a union."
"Well, can't argue with tha-" in mid word, a blue vapor drifted from Tucker's mouth. Danny instinctively looked off in the direction it drifted, that being downtown, "Oh no," he groaned, "Why now?"
"Had to happen some time, I guess. Don't worry, I'll drag Tucker to your house and cover for you."
"Thanks Sam," Danny contorted Tucker's face from his own determination. A green glow again surrounded Tucker as Danny stepped out of him. He crouched down, "Cover me."
Sam stepped in front of the dazed Tucker, concealing Danny from two lines of view, the other two being clear of spectators. A bright ring appeared at his waist, separating into two running along his body. The clothes they moved over transformed into a black and white jumpsuit, but more importantly, they transformed Danny Fenton into something else entirely. Passing over his head, the rings revealed a mirror image of Danny with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes.
Danny became intangible and flew into the ground, avoiding any eyes that might catch him in the sky.
Sam watched him vanish before her. She felt a little sad seeing her friend go like that, with such an overbearing responsibility that every time he became Danny Phantom, he was ultimately risking his life. It was, however, something she loved about him. He was brave enough to act for everyone; he never thought twice about throwing himself between great evil and people that loved, feared, and hated him alike. At the same time, she wished it were someone else. Why did it have to be him? Why did Danny, the completely average boy cursed with the worst of responsibilities, have to be the one that could be there one minute and gone forever the next? A quiet, shameful battle within her, her love for his chivalrous side and her love for his presence.
Yes, she loved him, or at least thought she did, she tried not to visit that realm of her mind often. She feared that feeling, that if ever revealed, it could destroy the friendship they already had. But that was really all she needed, his presence and his friendship. Always having him around, that was all she needed. It was okay to keep the secret.
Tucker stood in a vacant daze. He shook his head suddenly and looked around. An unholy anger appeared on his face.
"I'll get you for this Danny!" he called to the sky, "But in the meantime…" Tucker checked his watch, "I bet I can still make it!" he reared for a dash back to the theater, but Sam grabbed his shirt.
"Tucker, what are you doing?" Sam asked warily, gripping his collar.
"Uhhh… I was gonna… go to the store, and uh… get some-Look out, it's Ember!"
"WHAT?" Sam spun to see a few trees and the moon, but no ghost diva. She slumped angrily at the fact that she'd fallen for it, and didn't even bother to turn back. Had she, she would have found a fluttering paper and a sidewalk. Instead, she began to Danny's house to think up an alibi for him, feeling just a little sorry to have to waste Danny's efforts to save Tucker.
Danny watched his two friends go their different ways from above, invisible. He was thankful on a level that that words could scarcely describe to have them both. In his insecure teenage mind, he once had thoughts that questioned their friendship, that he didn't matter that much to them, that he was just there. He thought that he had to work to preserve their friendship in ways that forced him to change who he was. But through the turmoil of his double life, his responsibilities, ghosts and fate alike would test the boundaries of their bonds. Every time such events occurred, they came out as even better friends than before. Eventually he discovered a higher definition of friendship that they had always shared, but had never been able to see himself. He'd screwed up plenty of times himself, at first glance completely annihilating their friendship all at once, performing unforgivable acts of shallowness or stupidity. But somehow, they always managed to drag him back to reality, their reality, and snap him out of it. He was getting older, wiser, and was reaching the stage that moms and dads always talked about when you become truly thankful for all the things you didn't want to do then. He was very thankful to have them around, and would do anything for the two of them. If he didn't, he feared he might lose them someday. And he couldn't imagine what he'd do without the two of them. He feared that without them, he would become the… other him. The one that he sealed up in the Fenton Thermos and left in the hands of Clockwork. Without his two beloved friends that would go to the ends of the Earth for him… he feared himself.
'Whoop! Back to reality Fenton! You've got work to do,' Danny thought, recalling the ghostly entity in the vicinity. His spectral tail emerged, taking place of his legs, and he raced off to downtown.
At the edge of town, people gathered around a warehouse. One woman pounded at the door, sobbing madly and cursing someone inside. A young woman by the name Paullina stepped up to her, who happened to have been out shopping.
"What's wrong miss? What are you doing?" Paullina asked, feeling a womanly kinship with the woman's extreme display of emotion. She knew well what it was like to break a nail!
"A GHOST!" she wailed to the sky more than at Paullina, "A GHOST KIDNAPPED MY DAUGHTER!" she fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands, "Please," she whispered, "Won't someone, anyone…."
Paullina stepped back, realizing she didn't belong anywhere near the woman's side. She knew anything she'd ever felt probably couldn't compare to this woman's sorrow.
But it was a feeling so short lived, she didn't even feel it. She suddenly had an idea. Maybe if she helped the mother get the door open, and the ghost within captured her, then he would come and save her, as he had so many other times.
Paullina grabbed a handle on the door and looked down at the crying mother, "Don't give up!" she crooned, "I bet I could help you open the door!"
The mother wiped a tear away and looked fondly at the teen who was willing to aid her, "Thank you… you're right, I can't give up, it's… my daughter in there!" and with that, she began pulling again with the young Latino girl, driven by sheer motherly instinct.
Unlike Paullina, who was driven by sheer teenage hormones.
Inside, a young girl huddled in a corner, filled with terror. She had been in the most horrifying game of hide and seek ever for the past hour. Tears of fear filled her wide eyes, so terrified she could scarcely see. She bunched up her shirt in her hands and gripped it, trying to find some small comfort in pretending she was holding her mothers hand.
"Liiiiiiiiiiiindseeeeeeeeeeeeey…" called a high, smooth woman voice. A shadow crept around the corner. The worst part of that was that with the nature of the ghost, Lindsey couldn't tell if it was the ghost or just its shadow, "Where aaaaaaaaare you? We're not done playing sweetie! Where ever could you be?…"
She wanted to scream, she really did. She just couldn't. She was unable to make a single sound. This… thing had made it impossible, instilling in her so much fear she was unable to use her voice. The shadow moved closer and closer around the stack of boxes she had made her small refuge behind. She curled into a tight ball, tears unconsciously streaming down her face.
"You know, I wonder, where is that mother of yours? Why hasn't she come to help you? Why hasn't she come to save you? Could it be… that she's forgotten you?" the shadow halted, not needing to proceed any further, "Has it crossed your mind, Lindsey?"
The thought had scarcely entered Lindsey's mind, but she dismissed it to make room for thoughts that concerned with the task at hand, surviving. She knew her mother was coming for her, she knew she would make the monster go away, she knew she would be okay, but now that it was mentioned….
'Where are you Mommy? Why haven't you gotten me yet? Why haven't you… where are you?' Lindsey didn't understand the feeling rising inside her, a doubt that she would really be okay. If she couldn't believe in her mother coming for her, then…
…Was there anything she could believe in?
"You want to know the truth? Sweetie, I wouldn't hide that from you. The truth is she's never coming for you. Your mother has abandoned you, and so has everyone else. You're worthless to them…"
Danny had heard about two sentences escape Spectra's mouth before he realized the situation. He couldn't believe she would sink so low. She had tried to kill his sister and he still didn't expect something like this from her. Danny had silently entered the dark warehouse to find one of his less threatening adversaries milking the misery, doubt and, a new one, fear from a little girl. What she was doing to Lindsey… Danny found it unforgivable. His rage boiled uncontrollably within him. He was ready to unleash everything he had on Spectra, but… there was the girl to think about. She could get hurt.
Danny went intangible and flew silently along the floor and through the box she leaned against, hearing Spectra's harsh words. He reached through the box and clasped his hand over mouth, turning her intangible and pulling her in with him.
She struggled violently against him trying to get free. But feeling the warmth of his arms in the cold of the night, she couldn't struggle long. Survival instinct faded from her and she relaxed in his arms looking drearily up into his eyes, distantly bewildered. He smiled down at her and whispered into her ear, avoiding any chance of Spectra hearing him over her continuing drone of despair.
"Everything is okay now Lindsey. Don't listen to a single word she says. She's good at getting inside your head, but it's all lies. Your mom is right outside trying to get in, I'm going to take you to her and everything is going to be fine. Okay?"
It was then that Lindsey realized it was Danny Phantom who was holding her. Her mother believed he was a villain, but anything that she had instilled in her was immediately torn away, gaining total faith in him all at once. The tears in her eyes faded and dried, and she stirred calmly in his arms, nuzzling him for more of the peaceful warmth he emitted.
Danny a strange new joy as she lay in his arms. He'd saved someone not from a quick death, but from a tormented life. To save someone's mind, it gave him a relief he'd never known. But the rage swiftly returned to him as he heard Spectra continue her lecture on Lindsey's worthlessness. For some reason, he couldn't quite pin it down, what she had done was absolutely unforgivable, and he decided that she needed to learn a lesson, and a very, very harsh one. It was time for her to pay.
"Oh why, why did it take her? Lindsey, come back…" her mother sobbed distantly. Paullina continued to pull at the door with all her strength, but understood that something was obviously jamming it, something stronger than a lock. She ceased her efforts as well and tried to comfort the mother, suggesting to her they that find another way in.
Suddenly, Danny emerged from the wall of the warehouse, sporting a determined face and a small, dazed looking girl. Paullina perked her head up and noticed him. She gasped, "Danny! Hi! Do you remember me?" she trotted happily up to him, forgetting the crying mother.
The mother, however, widened her eyes in fear seeing him, and she burst toward the two of them frantically.
"MY BABY! GIVE HER BACK TO ME, YOU MONSTER! YOU FREAK!" she dashed at the two of them, blinded by instinct from the fact that if he really were evil, he could completely rend her in seconds.
"Mommy, stop!" Leslie firmly stated, with the child-like superiority of which children all are have. Her mother froze at her daughter's demand. She weakly spoke, but with the general silence, could be heard by most of the people gathered, "Danny Phantom… saved me… from the shadow… so leave him alone… because people are always saying he's evil… but he's not… it's the other ghosts…." suddenly, she seemed to lose the will to say anymore, and she retreated back into Danny's chest, nuzzling him for warmth.
Danny was a little surprised himself at the child's speech, but something had to be done about that… thing in the warehouse. He approached the mother, who locked eyes with his, "Please take your daughter. She'll be okay, she's just cold and scared." the mother scooped up her daughter eagerly, Lindsey showing a hint of reluctance, but remained intent to listen to Danny. He turned away, toward the door of the warehouse, "I'm sorry I can't stay to explain, but… I have to make sure this sort of thing will never happen again."
Danny approached the door, and as he did, grabbed the door handle and quickly ripped it clean off its hinges. Behind it was a very surprised looking Bertrand in his blobish green form, who quickly vanished within the Fenton Thermos. He calmly strode in as if nothing happened, vanishing into the darkness of the building.
As the crowd chattered their comparisons of what just happened and a mother and daughter reunited embraced, a young teen stood alone.
"Um, hello? Aren't you forgetting someone?" Paullina shouted franticly. No one listened to her.
"…And so, sweetie, that's why no one's coming for you!" Spectra spoke cheerfully, unaware she was talking to herself, "You're stuck here with me, forever… you are all mine," at last, she floated around the corner to where Lindsey… should have been, "What?" her narrow red eyes widened in shock, "But how? I was sure… How could… Phantom!"
Spectra leapt into the narrow stretch of space where Lindsey had been to avoid any attacks from behind, and with a flash of black spectral smoke, her more powerful Ecto-Suit appeared around her. She floated defensively in the air.
"Danny, what are you doing here? Why must you always ruin everything I try to accomplish?" there was no response, but now able to focus on him, she now sensed his presence. She knew he was here, "Oh well. I suppose it gives me a chance to try out my new power on you! You see, for the past hour or so, I've fed on that girl's emotions! And instead of her misery making me youthful, her fear has made me powerful," red energy gathered at her hands, and she waited for Danny's attack. She still found nothing. An annoyed look overtook her face.
She jumped when she heard a light crack behind her. She spun around and shot a beam at the metal crate behind her, blowing a large, black, round hole in it. She gazed at her hand.
"Wow! That is good stuff!" she declared, referring to Lindsey's fear. She turned back around, dismissing the sound as something settling, "Alright Danny, now why don't you come out and have a little chat with Ms. Spectra, hm?" she said sweetly.
Another light crack sounded out, echoing around the warehouse for a second, then silence again. Spectra became thoroughly annoyed.
"Phantom, show yourself already! Where are you?" Spectra listened for a moment, and hearing nothing, sighed, "Bertrand dear," she sweetly called, "would you deal with Phantom, I've got better things to do…" still silence, "Huh?"
"No one left to order around," a voice sounded.
Spectra quickly went battle ready again, whose only response was another crack, "Phantom, what have you done with Ber-" she smacked her forehead, "Oh, that blasted thermos…."
"No one left to protect you," it stated again.
Spectra, at this point, sensed something was wrong, 'Why isn't he attacking? Where is he? Is that… is that even him?' she glanced her eyes around, trying to sense the slightest anomaly around her. Another crack, slightly closer sounding, interrupted her concentration.
"No one left to feed off."
"Phantom, enough. Just come over here and-" -CRACK- "Dammit Phantom, stop that!"
"There's no one, Spectra. Nothing to help you, and no one to carry you."
Spectra glared into the silence, but her mind spoke differently, 'What's he playing at? Is he trying to shake me? No, he's not that stupid. He knows I am the superior intellect. So what if he's captured Bertrand? I don't need him! I'm powerful enough to defeat Phantom now, I don't need any-' something struck Spectra, something she'd never considered. In most instances, she did need someone or something to continue off of. Misery to feed off, Bertrand to protect her when something weakened her, even her creations like her Ecto-Suit needed teen genes… 'Okay, so I'm a little high maintenance, so what? It's not like I have to have someone or something aiding me to fight! I just… prefer it. And I'm already feeding off Lindsey's fear, so what do I have to worry about?' CR-CRACK. "Phantom, if you don't stop whatever that is RIGHT NOW-!"
"You'll what? You think you can fight on your own because you fed off a little girl's fear? You know, being who I am, I've seen some pretty low acts…. I've dealt with giant slime monsters, ghosts with crushes on my mom and sister, Box Lunch…" there was a pause, "But what you've done today… I have never been so disgusted in my life," the voice hissed, "It's… unredeemable."
"What makes you think I want your redemption? Who are you to judge me, Phantom?" Spectra demanded, feeling the situation was shifting in her favor.
Silence shrouded the warehouse. The only light in the warehouse swung lightly over Spectra's head in the center of the ceiling. She dared not move from it, lest she make herself vulnerable. She felt a slight wind pass by her, then another from behind her. The light swung a little harder. Spectra had had enough.
"Phantom, I'm giving you till three to show yourself, or I'm coming after you myself!" Spectra relaxed her stance, "One…"
A green beam shot through the hole she made earlier, striking her in the back. She fell to the floor but quickly recovered and returned fire through the hole, but hit nothing but the wall beyond. Another blast came from the other way, striking her in the back again. She bore through it and turned. She saw a shadow leap away from a rafter into the darkness. She shot off furiously in pursuit.
When she got to the rafter, she saw nothing that resembled a Phantom. She looked down and observed the ground floor, unable to see any movement. From out of her sight, an intangible hand emerged from a metal crate and shot a green blast up at the rafter. Spectra saw it and leapt away, only to have two feet smash into her from above, sending her crashing to the floor. When she recovered, there was a renewed silence and no movement.
'What's going on? He can't be that fast!' Spectra floated along through the warehouse to find the source of this onslaught.
About every two seconds, she saw a shadow flash past the corner of her eye, but when she turned to see where it went, it was gone. She saw another, and another, and she froze. It was then she realized the shadows surrounded her, encircling her. From an overhead view, one could see many humanoid shadows, moving too fast to count, flashing in and out of view from behind crates at amazing speeds.
Spectra couldn't move. All the memories from her past battles with Danny were conflicting with her movements. She knew that if she ran, he would catch her. If she attacked, he would counter. If she moved… so she stood there, floating in the middle of a Danny Phantom ring.
All at once, they halted. Either crouching or floating or standing they stopped, all eyes on Spectra. She was shocked when she saw the real number, there must have been fifty Dannys! Only one, however, stepped forward.
"Who am I to judge you, Spectra?" Danny asked, a carelessness in his voice, "I am all there is now. You are alone. No one can help you now."
Spectra was dumbstruck, 'There are multiple Dannys? Am I insane? How can this be? And what's he…. I'm alone?'
"I know your weakness Spectra. You can only fight me so many times before I find some shortcut. I know that you can't maintain your own power taken by feeding on other's emotions unless your own emotions are in perfect place," Danny took a few steps forward, "That's why you're always so happy and peppy, and you don't feed on happiness. You can't hold your power unless you avoid the emotions you take. And you know what?" Danny began to walk around her, keeping his eyes on her, "You just absorbed more fear than you'll ever know."
Spectra would have felt a cold chill down her spine, infiltrating every fiber of her being, if she had a spine. Surely there's a ghostly equivalent to the feeling she felt. She had no idea how, Danny had discovered her weakness. If she felt any of the emotion she absorbed as power, youth, any kind of nectar sucked from humans, she lost control of it.
And right then, she was alone. She was shaking, she was surrounded, powerless and hopelessly alone. She was scared to be alone.
"Phantom… what do you want from me?" Spectra weakly whispered. She held her hands over her head and floated down to her knees, overwhelmed by her own and Lindsey's fear.
Danny's face went from uncaring to quite pleased, knowing he had broken the psychotic psychiatrist's barriers, "I'm not here to take anything from you. I'm here to teach you a simple lesson," Danny raised a finger and pointed it at Spectra, "A lesson on proper psychiatry," green energy surrounded his fingertip, "A lesson on empathy," Spectra shivered as she watched Danny, but unable to take the fear, she shut her eyes, "But most importantly, a lesson on how to play nicely with kids."
Danny pointed his finger away abruptly, not at Spectra but at the ceiling light hanging above, never taking his eyes off her. He released the energy in a small beam at the light. The light exploded and went out immediately as the beam struck it, leaving the room in total darkness.
Spectra squeezed her eyes shut until she no longer heard the clinking of the light bulb glass hitting the floor. The room was in total silence. She opened her eyes.
Everywhere… eyes. She looked, up, down, left and right, all she could see were glowing green eyes, glaring at her. There were hundreds, thousands…. The room was enshrouded in a dim green glow that human eyes could not see objects in, just the green darkness.
However, considering how close he was, she could vaguely make out the Danny who had been doing the lecturing, his eyes the glowing pinnacle of her fear. He had one fist in his hand, the same CRACK she had heard in the first place coming from his knuckles.
"Class is in session, Ms. Spectra."
"How could he just ignore me like that?" Paullina whined on the sidewalk outside the warehouse, away from the crowd.
The crowd had gathered around the warehouse a little closer, among them, Dash, Quan, Star, and a little farther away, Valerie.
"Oh, Phantom's gonna kick the crap outta that kidnapping ghost!" Dash proclaimed.
"Yeah!" Quan agreed, "He won't let us down!"
"No question! Danny Phantom is so cool!" Star cheered, a little dreamily.
"I don't know how you guys can worship him like that. Even if ghosts disagree, it doesn't make one any less dangerous to humankind," Valerie huffed, making the popular trio turn. As much as she wanted to go in there and destroy both ghosts in there, she was wise enough to know that it would be stupid to go into a dark warehouse with two hostile entities inside. Better to wait for one to emerge as a victor and take out the remaining one.
"How can you say that, Valerie?" Quan burst with open arms, "He saved us all when Amity got sucked into the Ghost Zone! I was suspicious of him too before that, but that makes him cool in my book!"
"Yeah! How would you know any more about ghosts than the rest of us anyway?" Dash demanded snidely.
Valerie looked away, "Hmph. One of these days, you guys'll see his real face…"
As Valerie trailed off, a blood-curdling woman's scream rang out from inside the warehouse. A scream that embodied terror, pain, and sorrow all at once. Simultaneously, green energy flooded the windows, causing them to burst open, shattering. The doorway, no one being near it thankfully, burst with energy too. For a solid three seconds the energy flowed freely. Then it subsided, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
Suddenly, a figure burst through the wall, no, not phased through it, but thrown straight through the poorly made wood and plastic wall. It plummeted to the pavement below, landing with a soft thud next to Paullina, who shrieked and dashed off down the road. Green smoke rose off the still laying body, reverted back to the black shadow form. Danny floated out of the hole in passive pursuit.
Spectra lay on the sidewalk, staring up at the night sky. If she could have been any darker, there would be terrible burn marks covering her. It wasn't in her to move anymore. She had nothing left. No emotion, no energy, nothing. She was empty.
Danny landed and knelt down beside her, showing little remorse on his face, "Sorry Spectra, but remember, this is only a warning. I don't care if you come back from the ghost zone a thousand times again, if you ever can," Danny removed the thermos from his back, "but if I ever… ever see you near another child again," Danny stood and pointed the Thermos down at her, "I will not hold back again. So from now on," Danny smirked darkly at her, "…play nice."
And with that, Spectra disappeared into the blue light of the Thermos. Danny closed the cap, wondering if he went too far with her. He'd never fought like that, never felt quite so driven. He decided he wouldn't do anything like ever again that unless the receiver deserved it, only when a truly unforgivable act is committed, like traumatizing a six year old girl and feeding off her fear. Something that, out of sheer instinct, he had to teach them never to do again unless over his cold dead body.
Danny sighed and tried to take to the skies, but as he turned away from the spot Spectra rested, the crowd, which had swelled to the size of about a hundred people, stopped him. As he stared blankly at them, they suddenly exploded in cheer, Dash Quan and Star leading it. His eyes grew wide and his arms fell limp.
"Way to go Phantom!" Quan cheered, "Oh, you don't mind if I call you Phantom, do you?"
"It didn't stand a chance!" Dash shouted.
"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh it's DANNY PHANTOM!" Star jumped up and down like a fangirl meeting her idol.
It hit Danny right then, as he began to back away in defense, "Waitaminute," he looked thoughtful, "You people are cheering? As in, people sowing openly that they don't hate and/or want me dead?" he looked around at the people, "When did this happen?"
The crowd fell silent. Dash spoke up when no one else did, "Uhh… When you saved all our lives in that whole disappearing town thing, I guess."
Danny was silent. He preferred not to think about that event, still feeling as though he'd failed in a way. He'd lost his parents Ecto-Skeleton and never found out what the deal with Fright Knight was. But everyone else… now that he thought about it, they actually knew he'd done something good for once, and must have been, dare he think such a reality defying thought, grateful!
"Wait wait wait, let me get this straight," Danny raised a hand to prevent any interruptions, "What you're saying is that there are people in Amity Park that… trust me? Even like me?"
"Well, there are some people that still don't trust you, but those are people like the Fentons… and Valerie," Quan spoke up, "but, well, yeah! Lot's of people like you!"
"Whoa. That…" Danny contemplated this for a second, able to feel people's admiration for the first time. And it felt pretty good, "That makes my job a lot easier!"
The victory was short lived, as a familiar R.V. skidded to a halt before the crowd. A hulking man in an orange jumpsuit toting green and silver rifle-like weapon emerged from one side, while on the other, a much smaller woman emerged in a blue jumpsuit with a smaller gun.
Danny smacked his forehead, "Great, just what I need."
"Has anyone seen a ghost?" Jack shouted.
A surfer type guy stepped from the crowd, "Uh-huhuh, don't worry bro. Danny Phantom already took care of it!" he pointed over his shoulder to Danny, who was creeping toward a bush to hide, but since someone had just pointed him out…
"You! Jack, we've got him this time!" Maddie exclaimed, aiming her weapon, "Everyone, get out of the way! We'll handle this!"
Jack and Maddie dashed at Danny ignoring the crowd, until they got in the way. They shielded Danny away from the Fentons' charge. The ghost hunters looked around, bewildered.
"What's going on? What are you people doing?" Jack demanded, keeping his eye on Danny.
"You can't attack him! He's the good guy! He just trapped the real evil ghost in that thermos-thing!" Star tried to explain.
"Thermos? What?…" Jack squinted at Danny, who was now just trying to sneak away, forgetting he had the ability to turn invisible. This of course exposed his back, where the Fenton Thermos rested on a silver strap, "Hey, that-?"
Jack, unable to hear the people below him or the words of his wife, suddenly grit his teeth. His face turned scarlet and fire burned in his eyes. He threw his arms up, launching a few people skyward in the process, and roared.
"THAT KID HAS MY THERMOOOOOOOS!" Jack rushed back to the Ghost Assault Vehicle, rustled around inside, and came out with a monstrous bazooka that said on the side, 'Fenton Ghost Obliviator' and lowered goggles, "You're goin' down, ghost punk, you hear me? DOWN!"
"Jack, stop! That hasn't been tested yet!" Maddie called, now jogging back from the crowd.
"Sorry Maddie," Jack looked through the scope, setting his sights on Danny and seeing the satisfying 'locked on' symbol, "But this… is personal," he overdramatically whispered.
"Please don't shoot Danny," asked a tiny voice.
"What the-!" Jack looked away from the scope and looked left and right sternly, but found no one. He felt a gentle tug on his jumpsuit leg. He lowered his head to see a six year old girl at his feet, "Who the heck are you?"
"My name is Lindsey!" she said cheerfully, "And Danny saved me from the Spek-ta ghost. He was very nice to me, so could you please not shoot him with that big thingy?"
This kid had hit Jack's soft spot hard, and it forced him into contemplation of what the little girl had just asked him. 'She doesn't want me to soot the ghost punk, that much I got, but why again? He saved her from another ghost? How was that possible? She did look a little beat up and tired, but… did that mean he fought with another ghost? Maybe all the stuff that everyone was saying was true, maybe he was good, decent at least….'
Danny struggled against Star's grip around his abdomen, claiming she would protect him, "Uh, Star-MISS! Miss, could you let go? I don't particularly want to get shot by, uh, that thing," Danny said nervously.
"You're so cut and defined…" whispered Star happily, obviously using the situation to her advantage.
Danny's eyes widened feeling something run over his abdomen, but through the jumpsuit, his mind was unable to fabricate what it was, "E-EXCUSE ME?"
"Uh, I said… Everything's gonna be fine…!" she moved her grip to his neck, and using her cheerleading powers of rallying, roused the crowd, "Don't worry, we wont let them hurt you! Right everyone?"
Danny acknowledged everyone cheering their agreement, but he was already getting tired of having fans. He noticed his father eyeing him thoughtfully.
"Jack? Jack, snap out of it!" Maddie demanded. Jack looked away from the girl to the crowd that somehow became a protest line for Phantom rights, and Star clinging to Phantom's neck crooning him with words of protection, and Phantom, who was just confused, "These people really don't want him hurt! What should we do?"
Jack glanced from Lindsey to his wife to Danny to his F.G.O. and back to Lindsey, "But… but my thermos…" he whimpered.
"I think he's caught more ghosts in it than you guys have ever even seen!" she exclaimed happily, "Can't you let him have it? He used it to capture two ghosts tonight!"
"…Two?" Jack peeped. In his life, he hadn't caught one, except that time he 'captured' Phantom. How could this be possible, a ghost fighting other ghosts…?
"Please," said a new, pleading voice. Jack looked up to see a woman approach them and scoop up Lindsey, insinuating she was her mother, "I didn't trust Phantom either, but he saved my daughter. I know why they named him Amity's number one enemy, but if he's really turned around and decided to protect us, shouldn't he get another chance? Did he ever have a first?"
"But-" Jack started again, but couldn't find words to put behind it. Could there really be a good ghost, not out to destroy, as he had seen so many times?
Jack came to a decision at last, laying down the F.G.O., he solemnly stated, "Maddie… if these people really don't want Phantom hurt, then…" he smiled to her. He then looked on to Phantom, "Then these people must be ALL BE POSSESSED BY GHOSTS! GET THE FENTON DEGHOSTIFIERS, STAT!" Jack jumped into the G.A.V. again and came out with a Ghostbusters looking backpack, "BONSAI!" he charged the group of people like a bull, spraying the crowd with a green goop, pelting them all. Their response was nothing more than standing statue still with a unified glare.
Danny sighed, and slightly afraid of what the green stuff could do to him, turned intangible, and passed through Star, "Sorry everyone, but I do ghosts, not… those guys!" he waved happily and, becoming invisible, shot off to the sky, hearing his father saying, "Don't worry people, this is a specially engineered ectoplasm. The ghosts should be out of you in no ti- Wait, what are you doing? Stop, no! Maddie, the deghostifier didn't work, ruuuuuuun!" and a screeching of tires rang through the streets.
"And that's what happened with Spectra," Danny explained to Sam, who hadn't explained anything to his parents, they had been out all night hunting him, so for all they knew, he'd been home since eight; Tucker, who had been thrown out of the movie theater three times attempting to see the movie again; and Jazz, who was just paranoid as always. They all sat in his room, just happy to see him alive.
"I knew that new duplicating trick was good for something," Tucker said coolly. He had a bruise on his cheek from the sidewalk hitting him as they literally threw out the third time.
"For the last time Tucker, it's not Duplicating!" Danny stood from his bed and allowed green energy to surround him. He stepped to the side, leaving the energy surrounding him behind, and it turned into an image of Danny, blankly staring at nothing. The real Danny waved his hand through the image, making it ripple as it passed through, "See? Duplicates have their own mind, even though their tied to mine, and have their own body. These are just… afterimages, shadows. That's what I'll call them, Shadows!" Danny said contently, "But they have no body, so they can't attack. They're just to confuse and stuff."
"And they take almost no power to make, so you can make tons at a time, right?" asked Sam, who sat in a chair, still amazed at the trick Danny had discovered nearly a week ago, training to Duplicate.
"Yeah, it's cool and all, but it's too bad that you can't make Duplicates. If you could, you'd have time to do both ghost hunting and school," said Jazz sadly.
Danny glanced at her, smiled and looked away, kind of an 'I know something you don't know' look. Everyone noticed and looked at each other.
"No way," Sam said, leaping from the chair and shaking Danny's shoulder, "No way! Danny, no way!"
"Tell me you're kidding dude. You can't have done it," Tucker joined in.
"Do you mean…" Jazz began, standing from the floor.
Danny smiled hugely and toothily, squeezing his eyes shut as if anticipating something.
Danny suddenly burst opened the door from the outside and leaned on the doorframe with an elbow, "Hey guys, what's goin' on?"
Everyone jumped, now witnessing two, technically three Dannys. The two conscious Dannys smiled at each other and laughed. The Shadow Danny turned back into green energy and flowed into the Danny who created it and the two remaining walked into each other, producing a bright green glow and leaving one Danny. Sam, Tucker and Jazz gaped.
"Danny, why didn't you tell us?" Tucker and Sam demanded in unison.
"I just did!" Danny laughed, "I just wanted to wait for the right moment…."
"So… which one was the real one?" Jazz questioned.
"Heh, you'll never know, will you?" Danny queried, folding his arms, "Problem is I can only make one Duplicate. But even that I like, 'cause if I make Shadows and Duplicates like I did tonight, you can't really tell the Shadows from the Dupe from me!"
"Well this is great Danny! Now you can lead two lives at once! You at school and the Dupe fighting ghosts!" Jazz exclaimed, hugging her brother.
"Jazz…" Danny pushed her away, "The thing is… it doesn't work that way," Danny scratched the back of his neck, leaving everyone dumbfounded.
"Why not Danny? This is what you've been waiting for, right? To literally lead two lives? Why can't it work that way?" Sam asked worriedly.
"Well, I tried going far away from it, but… once I go a certain distance, it… dissolves. Like, I can't maintain its form, and the energy I used to make it comes back to me. And not only that, but I remember fighting the Ghost King, and when he hit one of my Dupes, they were destroyed immediately, so it wouldn't be too useful in fighting alone. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm still stuck living a two for one life."
"Danny…" Sam said softly, hoping to comfort him somehow.
Danny was a little disappointed when he found out about the limitations of the Dupes, but at the same time, part of him was okay with it. What other fifteen year old gets to save the town on a regular basis from evil creatures from another dimension? '…Valerie, I guess,' Danny answered his own thought. But now that he'd had his ghost powers for about nine months, he really didn't mind being the hero for everyone, especially now that they had begun to appreciate him. 'Wait….'
"Hey," Danny suddenly said, "Did you guys know that people like me now? As in, people who don't hate and/or want me dead?"
Everyone stared blankly at Danny before Sam spoke, "Uh, hello? Don't you watch the news? When you first saved Amity from the Ghost King, you had something like a sixty percent approval rating!"
"Actually, it was more like sixty five or seventy. But now it's more like only the government despises you because you either A. have a mark of attacking the mayor on you're papers, or B. take business away from the already useless safety services," Tucker added in his 'Tucker's right' way.
"Hey, between ghost fighting, dodging Valerie, hiding my secret from mom and dad, school, and my training, I'm lucky to watch anything!" Danny huffed, his expression becoming frustrated. He was suddenly alarmed and dove for his backpack, "And speaking of which…" he pulled out a small packet of papers, "Tonight's gone so well, I think I can still get Lancer's next stupid book report in on time!" he said happily.
"That thing?" Sam said surprised, "Isn't that due tomorrow?"
"Yup," Danny slammed the half finished paper on his desk, "And I'm finishing it tonight."
Jazz gasped, "Danny, it's almost eleven!" she got up and began pushing Sam and Tucker out, "You two have got to go, Danny's got work to do!"
"Danny, we-!" Sam said before Jazz threw them out and slammed the door.
"Jazz, what are you doing?" Danny started wearily.
"What part of 'meddling and overprotective' didn't you get? I'm not going to let you lose anymore sleep on the night you finally have the opportunity to bring your grades back up!" Jazz decreed as if she were his mother.
Danny groaned and sat in his desk chair, "Could you at least show them out? They're kind of, you know, my only friends…."
Jazz smiled, "Sure, but if you leave that chair before that report is done, I'm locking the Specter Deflector on you," she cheerfully smiled and hurried out to make sure the two on the other side couldn't get a word in.
He sighed and picked up a pencil and began to write. It was times like the ones he just had that he lived for, a peaceful moment where no one near him wanted him dead or imprisoned. He reveled in his tranquility, but he liked his action too. So what if his Duplicate couldn't take one of his lives over? Danny was happy with the way things were. He was content with his two best friends, his overprotective sister, even his parents, who were goofy but meant well half the time, and hunted him like a dog the other half. Danny was happy, and he wasn't about to let that change.
About forty minutes later, he had finished the report decently in his opinion. He yawned, went to his window and leaned on the sill. He often checked it to see if his ghost sense would go off. There were almost no lights on in the city, save the streetlights and car headlights, but the clouds prevented him from seeing the stars. The last time he stargazed was the night Youngblood first attacked, so he decided against it anyway. Across the city on the east side, he saw the last light on fade out.
"I like the way your mind works dude. That's what I'm doing…."
Danny yawned again and allowed his spectral tail to emerge and carry him to his wall, where he turned off the lights and flew to bed. Under his covers, he checked his clock.
"11:37, not bad. I've done worse…" and the hero known as Danny Phantom gave in to his exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep.
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WHAT DID YOU THINK WHAT DID YOU THINK WHAT DID YOU THINK! I gotta know I gotta know TELL ME! Bad or good, give me a response for god sake! Tell me how to improve! If you made it this far I guess it couldn't have been that bad, but please! Tell me any errors, problems in flow, whatever! I want to be a better writer, but really… school doesn't teach that.
I've got the next few chapters already done, if I am well liked, then gosh by golly I might just have to post another chapter! Now go on, there's a little button down there in the corner… REVIEW!
