Nightmares leave you breathless with their sudden changes.

The Nightmare
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

Chapter 4 – A Dark Visitor

"I'm sorry." His voice was barely loud enough for himself to hear. "I don't know where he is." A knife felt like it had been thrust into his stomach. The invisible knifer twisted the blade cruelly deeper into his gut. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes stared into his. A sob wrenched itself out of her lips and she basically flew up the stairs, leaving him in the semi-darkness of the basement. He curled up, dragging his knees almost to his chin, and he sat there and felt sorry for himself and the world. He hadn't really had a choice. She wouldn't have believed the truth. But still… it hurt.

Where had he been for four days? Was this really the real world? The fact that he was missing a huge chunk of time seemed to tell him that he was trapped in a nightmare of the ghostly variety. But if he was, it was a very convincing dream.

He looked about him, looking for a way out. The only way to know for sure, the only way to help his mother was to get out and find some answers. Beat some answers out of an assorted number of ghosts if necessary. Nobody made his mother cry like that and lived to talk about it. He curled his fingers into a fist tight enough that he imagined he could hear his human knuckles pop.

Why couldn't he turn intangible or invisible, but yet still be able to fly and shoot bursts of ectoplasm? It seemed wrong, somehow, that only part of his powers were gone and not the rest. His legs twitched, and his stomach twisted. Something was definitely wrong with him. He didn't know what – but he could assume it was ghost-related.

He struggled to his feet and started to pace back and forth. Actually, it was only a couple of feet worth of pacing as the ghost-shield was a dome and he needed to duck when he wasn't near the center. A couple of feet were more trouble that it was worth. So he started walking in circles. First one way, then the other, then back the other way. Round and round he traveled, searching his mind for an answer. Searching the ghost-shield for a way out. There was none of either to be found.

Finally, he collapsed down onto the floor again. It had to be something about that fight. The last fight with Skulker. It had been just him and the ghost, really late at night. No Sam or Tucker around. It had been a relatively normal fight, all things considered. Skulker had called him whelp a few times, vowing loudly that he would do all sorts of nauseating things with his pelt if he ever caught him. He had taunted Skulker back, teasing him about his lack of ability to actually catch him and do anything about it. The fight itself had been quick – Skulker had no new weapons and had apparently not learned anything since the last time he had been trounced. He had sucked Skulker into the Fenton Thermos and flew off. Back to bed. Where he couldn't get out of his ghost form.

No. Wait – there had been something. Just after the fight, when he was putting the lid back on the thermos. He had thought he saw some strange red light, and a chill had crawled up his back for a moment. He had put it off as nothing… but what if it was something? What if it was the answer?

He wracked his brains for a few minutes, but couldn't come up with anything on the subject. That was the extent of his knowledge. A red light and a feeling. Not exactly a lot to go on.

He heard a sliver of noise coming from the corner. He jumped into a crouch, instinctively calling ecto-energy out of his body and into his hands. Except there was no fizzling energy. His forehead wrinkled as he concentrated. Nothing. A cold feeling piercing his heart, he stared out into the corner of the dark room. It was too dark to see anything. The dim glow from the ghost-shield wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole room. "Who's there?" he called out.

Something moved across the room. He saw the vague shadow against the white walls. His whole body tensed. He was not strong enough to fight. Not without most of his powers. They were slipping through his fingers like water. He wasn't sure what he had left to fight with. A shiver of fear crept down through his body.

The something slid out of the shadows and up to the ghost-shield. It reached out and placed its hand on the power button of the generator. Then, it turned to him. He jumped backwards, feeling the sizzle when his head hit the top of the dome. The something smiled at him. It had a mouth and teeth that looked just like his. It had ice blue eyes that stared hauntedly at him from under familiar-looking, messy, black hair. "Save me, Danny," the thing whispered.

Then it hit the power button and, with a flash of red light the only source of light in the dark lab ceased to exist. He shivered violently, though from fear or something else he was not certain. The lingering voice echoed out of the blackest recesses of the dark room. "Save me."

To be continued...

NO! Who is that? I HATE it when stories write themselves and new characters pop in on their own accord. How am I going to weave this new character into the story? We'll just have to stay tuned and find out. sigh

Thanks SOO much for the reviews! Especially Icepaw (whom I totally stole the first two words from, thanks very much!)

Disclaimer: I still do not own Danny Phantom. Please enjoy the story.

Read and review, of course. :-) Thanks ahead of time!