Chapter 9: Body Bags

Vlad had curled up on the visitor's chair by the window, his hair glaring softly in the moonlight. His eyes were closed and his breathing was calm. He looked peaceful and it was a strange look for the billionaire. So much so that one might have mistaken him for a heavenly being with the way moonlight was reflecting off him.

Danny stood in the middle of his hospital room looking at the floor. He had to make sure he didn't step into the moonlight. His toes hung dimly on the borderline as he watched from the darkness, wondering why Vlad hadn't woken up yet.

"Hey, Vlad," he whispered, his voice echoing over the walls and through the hospital halls. No one was around, the hospital was still as if Danny and Vlad were currently the only occupants. Danny swallowed as a sense of panic rose up in his throat. He wanted to run over to Vlad and shake him, but he knew he couldn't step into the light.

He didn't know why he couldn't. He just knew he shouldn't.

Danny continued to look at the moonlight and the figure that lay within it. He took a silent step forward allowing his toes to be washed in the moonlight … and immediately a soft giggle came from behind him. The teenager quickly pulled his foot out of the waning light and peered over at the door. A small little girl, no older than five with crimson red hair, hid in the shallow shadows of the doorway. Her huge glassy eyes stared at him with such intensity that Danny wanted to look away.

"Who are you?" asked Danny, his voice hanging in the air.

The small child merely giggled as she disappeared into the hall. Danny, at first, didn't want to follow but neither could he shake off her ghostly charm. Despite himself, he silently obeyed.

Her soft footsteps filled the halls as she tracked past the empty waiting rooms and nurses' offices. It was so deathly quiet that Danny started to become unnerved. Out of desperation, he took the small child's hand when she offered it to him.

Smiling at his touch, she looked up at him with her huge eyes and stated in a soft breath, "I wish you would have held my hand more often Danny ... when it actually mattered."

Danny almost drew away from her, but she held on tightly.

"How did you know my name?" the boy asked wearily.

"The question is how could I forget?" she then pulled gently on his arm and led him forward.

Soon, they emerged within what could only be the morgue, time seeming to skip as Danny looked around confused wondering how he had gotten here. Swallowing, he figured he had bigger problems as he felt the chill of death crawl up his spine. He stalled in his tracks wanting to look around, but his form seemed to be paralyzed. He couldn't move on his own!

The girl looked up at him with a frown when she noticed how stiff he was. Sighing, as if it was merely a minor nuisance, she yanked roughly on Danny's arm and forced him to stand before one of the stainless steel morgue tables. A glossy black body bag lay lifelessly upon it. The orange tag labeling the body bag grimly reflected his father's name: Jack Fenton. Danny swallowed and tilted his eyes down to the little girl with a begging glance. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't even move on his own!

"Open it. Sometimes we must face what we can't accept," whispered the girl as she let go of Danny's hand, his form almost stumbling as he reestablished the ability to move on his own.

Rubbing his wrist, a part of him knowing his stiffness had been the redhead's fault, he turned his attention to the body bag. He really didn't want to open anything and yet he knew he had to. And he had to do this alone… No one could help him.

Standing over the bag, hand floating over its smooth blackness for what felt like an eternity, Danny could no longer take the redhead's constant gaze. His hands shook violently as he put his fingers on the zipper. Giving a meek tug, the zipper came down with far too much ease and he found his eyes snapping shut. And yet, before his eyes closed, he caught sight of the burnt figure. Jack's lower jaw had burned away into nothing and the skin of the chest had been charred to the bone. And yet, wanting to see his father if even for a moment, Danny reopened his eyes … to find nothing but an empty body bag.

Despite the disappearance, a sigh of relief escaped Danny's throat, but then his gaze fell upon the next body bag on the next table: Maddie Fenton.

Not wanting to be led by the strange little redhead, the teenager's body shook violently as he walked over to that body bag. His hand wasn't as uncertain this time, but he still closed his eyes imagining the worst: his mother's pale face burned away to nothing and her red locks scorched black. But when he opened his eyes there was once again … nothing.

Swallowing, almost disappointed, Danny truly recalled how much he missed her. His mom might have been a bit crazy, but she was still his mother. She was the one who held him when he was scared or lonely and bandaged his boo-boos as a child.

She had loved him like no other.

Next was Sam, a cold aching occurred in his heart. Remembering her grating voice and soft hands were the most painful thing he could imagine. He had been gathering the courage for the past three months to ask Sam out on a date, but now that option was beyond him.

Trying to push back the tears blurring his vision, Danny pulled the zipper down with his eyes closed again. Her perfect face still held its uncanny beauty, but her hair had burned away to the scalp as if her entire back had been charred away. Wiping away tears at the thought, when he opened his eyes … and again there was nothing. A sick part of himself was half wishing that she was there if only to touch her cold flesh one last time.

Next was his best friend in the world: Tucker. Tucker the computer geek. Tucker the weirdo. Tucker … the most wonderful friend in the entire world. Danny swallowed roughly as a choking pain tried to escape his throat. The zipper cried in protest as Danny's eyes dimmed, his vision blurred by tears. In his mind, Tucker's glasses were burnt and blackened, and his dark skin had taken on a blacker tint, but yet again there was nothing in the body bag.

Enraged that he couldn't even look at Tucker, Danny stormed to the next table with the next body bag. The tag stated: Jazz Fenton. So this was the bag for his kind yet over-protective sister. Hands shaking in rage, Danny pulled the zipper down without a hint of uncertainty. This time ... there was something in the body bag. It was a …

"A ribbon?" he asked, picking it up.

"Oh! I've been looking for that!" cooed the little redhead as she ran over, taking the item before she tied said ribbon into her glossy hair. "Okay … I'm bored. Let's go."

The child then skipped away and out of the swinging doors that bore the word morgue. Danny could hear her soft humming slowly fade away as she moved further and further down the hall.

Not wanting to be left behind, he quickly stormed after her, but when he faced the morgue door a soft electric humming caught his ear.

ZZZZ … zzzith

Beside himself, Danny slowly turned and looked for the sound's origin. In the far corner, lost in a dark haze, was a ceiling lamp that flickered unsteadily. One last body bag hid in its gloom.

Ignoring the feeling in his gut, Danny silently made his way to the far corner of the room. And soon the teenager looked down on the immobile object. A combination of fear and dread bit down on his nerves when he saw that there was no tag. He slowly grabbed the zipper and pulled, expecting to find nothing or at most another hair garment … but no. There it lay. Correction, there he lay, a fleshy corpse pale with death. Its skin had gained a yellow clammy look and his hair was limp and lifeless. Danny couldn't help but whimper as he stared at his lifeless copy ... a dead clone of himself.

Sorrow overcame his heart and his fingers silently reached forward. He wanted to touch this dead copy … this death. And though he knew he shouldn't, his warm fingers soon laid upon the dead flesh of his cheek and then over the eyelids. The figure was cold as a winters eve. Was this a sign? Was he truly meant to die? Or was he already dead? Had everything up to this point been a flash before his eyes? An earthly vision before death? Had he really died with his family?

Danny stared at the flesh before him … unable to tell what was truth and what was a dream.

Touching his corpse's cheek once more Danny memorized the body's face. It had the same brow, the same lips, the same everything. It was him.

Sighing, not knowing what else to do, he started to zip it back up.

"Wait… I'm not done with you yet."

Danny choked out a scream at the voice, the corpse having just parted its blue lips to speak. Panicked, the frightened teenager stumbled back into one of the morgue tables causing a crash behind him. The lifeless copy merely grinned at this as it lifted itself out of the body bag. The corpse then landed on the floor in a hunched position; perfectly concealing its face behind a wall of black hair. Danny could only stare at the grotesque posture as he slid backward against the metal table, pushing himself into a corner quite effectively.

The corpse's smile widened at this as it stood up straight and then with too-quick reflexes, the corpse was suddenly placing an arm on either side of Danny's head, trapping him against the wall. Danny could only stare at the copy with a silent terror, unable to scream or even move.

"Where are you going? Leaving so soon?" the corpse spoke in a harsh scratchy manner, its shark-like teeth glimmering in the flickering light. "You can't leave. It's not polite and … I won't let you."

The corpse's left hand quickly wrapped around Danny's neck, holding the teenager still. Then, with a small laugh, the corpse's free hand began to change: mutate. The nails slowly started to grow and expand into long daggers of flesh and revealed finger bones. Its eyes widened with excitement as it seemed to ready itself to scoop out Danny's heart… "Goodbye little halfa."

"Danny?"

Danny suddenly fell to the ground in a huddle, his heart intact and the corpse no longer above him. He coughed as he struggled for breath, his mind racing. Why wasn't he dead?

With shaking limbs, Danny lifted his head to look around for his would-be murderer, but the corpse was gone. The only other occupant of the room was the small little girl with red hair and ghostly eyes. Her voice almost made him cry in relief.

"What are you still doing in here, silly? It's unwise to linger in the dead's playground."

Danny slowly nodded at her. Then, with a huff, the half-ghost stood trying to encourage his brain that it was all an illusion or something.

Noticing the boy's shaking nature, the child took his hand once again and led him out of the morgue, a hum in her throat. And despite the fear of being frozen, Danny did not let go of his small savior's hand.

…

The two seemed to have walked around the empty corridors for hours until the tiny girl's humming came to a halt. She stopped and then stared at the shadows in front of them … at the waiting room to be exact.

"What? Is it the corpse?" asked Danny, his voice cracking as his spare hand came to rest on his throat.

The redhead looked at him for a moment and then turned her attention to the chair in front of them, tv static echoing over the small waiting room while casting an eerie light. In the television's soft glare, Danny couldn't help but noticed that on top of a waiting room chair sat an ancient-looking box the size of a jewelry box. It looked like something that belonged in a Greek museum. Its surface was delicately carved in gold and shiny black stone. Greek symbols skillfully adored the lid as it glimmered in the faint light. Despite his worry about the morgue, Danny found himself letting go of the red head's hand as he walked over to it, mesmerized. With daring fingers he even found himself reaching outward ready to open up the glossy lid, but the ghostly girl slapped his hand to the side at seemingly the last moment.

"I wouldn't if I were you," she murmured warningly.

And yet, before Danny could ask her why not, a dinging noise filled the eerily quiet hospital. Ding … Ding … Ding: the strike of midnight.

"I'd hate to say it, but in the words of Cinderella: I'm sorry. I must go. Goodbye," whispered the girl as she wandered out of the waiting room, pecking Danny softly on the cheek before she left. "Love you, baby brother."

"… Jazz?" choked Danny as he took a step forward, memories of old pictures coming to mind. "Is that really you?"

The redhead merely smiled sadly before wandering into the hall without another word. Danny could only stare at her fading form with a shocked expression. Was that really his sister? Maybe he was dead after all.

"It doesn't matter. I am not letting her go this time," growled Danny in a determined tone, his bare feet soon following the little girl in the darkening halls.

But she was seemingly gone. He had been looking for her for about twenty minutes, but Danny still couldn't give up on the search. Every fiber of his being seemed to rest on two questions. Was that really Jazz? If so, was he really dead? Danny shook off his worry and stormed down the next hall. He had to find her.

Giggle…

Danny turned around violently, ready to race after the sound, but there was no need. There, not even two yards away, stood the girl.

"Jazz?" whimpered the teenager feeling the hunger of sorrow well up in his chest. The child merely giggled in reply before she ran into a nearby room.

Danny couldn't really tell if it was Jazz, but just when he was about to chase after her he tripped on something in the hall.

He was on the floor with a blink, his butt smarting.

Growing in irritation, he picked up the item with ease, a brow raising in confusion, "A book on mythology? Why is this here?"

Giggle…

Danny jumped remembering his earlier pursuit. He got to his feet with stumbling speed and started after the laughter, leaving the book behind.

The child's laugh led him back … back into that haunting room. He stared at the moonlight that still softly glared off his godfather's sleeping form. From behind Vlad's chair came a giggle, a form shifting behind the chair. For some reason, the teenager found his fear of the moonlight only intensified.

A minute or two quickly passed and nothing bad happened, Vlad still snoozing softly. Only after gathering what little courage he had left, Danny stepped into the moonlight … and nothing happened.

Courage restored, Danny took the next few steps forward trying to choke down the fear in his stomach. The teenager's shadow soon loomed over his godfather and Danny slowly reached forward ready to wake the sleeping billionaire. But, instead of waking the man, a pale-fleshed hand intercepted and wrapped its cold fingers around Danny's wrist. Before Danny could even gasp, a form rose from the shadows behind the chair.

That child wasn't Jazz ... it was the corpse.

Breath catching, ready to grab at his only ally in the world, Danny barely had time to choke as a hand was slammed into his chest, the force throwing him several feet backward!

Danny flew across the room with a gasp and landed with a thud against the neighboring wall. A few bones cracked in protest, but through gathering tears of pain, Danny was able to look up. It was definitely his dead copy. Its cold waxy flesh was even glinting dully in the fading light as it stalked toward him.

Panicking, the teenager tried to lift his beaten body up to escape the beast, but he was too slow. A deep part of him knew he couldn't go ghost because this was his ghost.

With a snap, the corpse had once again wrapped its cold dead fingers around Danny's neck, cutting off his breathing. Kicking his feet out, the teenager struggled for a single breath as the corpse's copycat fingers transformed into daggers once more. The beast then lifted his elbow up and targeted Danny's heart. A high-pitched laugh quickly floated past the corpse's shark-like teeth and with sickening precision … it plunged the daggers into Danny's chest.

Speckles of crimson splash over the wall and instantly a river of blood seeped away from Danny's gaping wound. Blood dripped from the monster's face like dark tears as he watched Danny's last flailing moment. Then, as Danny's last few breaths struggled, the corpse leaned forward and kissed Danny's forehead, wiping Danny's bangs out of face before his murderer slowly stood up. Danny's last cry was a gurgling noise as the corpse pulled its sharpened digits out of the teenager's rib cage. His bones cracked and broke under the touch as his lungs stalled their life-giving force… His body was dying.

"Goodbye, Danny ... I'll take over now. And I won't steal your name, don't worry. Dan will work just fine," said the copy, his smile too wide, and his voice frighteningly familiar from a future that was never meant to be.

Ba Bum … the heart beat once.

The corpse's flesh peeled away in a burst of flames, revealing the older version of Dan Phantom!

Ba Bum … the heart beat twice.

The ghost's cold black eyes then turned to Vlad, his nails extending once more.

Ba Bum … the heart beat three times.

The evil part of Danny laughed once more before plunging his claws into Vlad, likely ripping out his ghost half as well. Vlad wasn't even allowed to scream, the room bursting into fire just like his home.

Ba Ba Bum … and the heart beat no more.

XXX

Paw07: This chapter used to be called 'I Dream of Sugar Plum Fairies' but I changed it because I don't think it foreshadowed what this chapter was really about. As for the edits, the chapter remained pretty intact except I added about seven-hundred words worth of supporting descriptions and flowing vocabulary. This one was an easy proofread and technically is a filler chapter. I'll admit it, but I wanted to show Danny's fear of Dan. Plus, I'm a horror fan. What can I say? To the next chapter!

(Revisions July 2020)