The new counselor stood outside her office, grinning brightly at the waiting students. Jazz watched her, eyes narrowed, cold air pouring from her lungs.
Something about this new counselor was off. She knew it in her gut, but no matter how she tried, she couldn't figure out what, exactly, was wrong. Penelope was oddly cheery, yes, and seemed to take the news of ghosts very well. But that couldn't be why Jazz had such a bad feeling about her, could it?
"Who's she?" Sidney's disembodied voice asked, quietly. Quiet enough for bystanders to miss. He hadn't startled her—her ghost sense had warned her beforehand, as usual.
"Penelope Spectra," she explained to him, equally soft. "She's the new counselor."
"Huh." Cold fingers wisped over her shoulders, like the ghost was shifting to peek over her shoulders. Like he wanted her protection against Penelope. "She… looks familiar."
"She does?" That was odd. Penelope couldn't possible be from Sidney's time—there was no way she was that old. And he didn't leave the school, so where else could he have seen her? "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely positive." He paused for a brief moment, and the two of them watched as the counselor entered her office again, tailing a student. "I just… can't remember from where."
"It's odd either way." Jazz shifted her backpack onto her shoulders properly, dislodging Sidney's barely-there touch. "Something weird is going on, and I don't like it."
Sidney clicked his tongue, then poked her, gently. "Maybe you should ask Phantom? If your worlds are so similar, surely he'll know who she is?"
"Yeah, I think I will." It wasn't one of their training days, but he wouldn't be that hard to find. Probably. "I'll go do that. Thanks for the idea, Sidney."
"Yeah, no prob." He patted her on the shoulder, encouragingly. "I don't trust her either. She's… dangerous, I think."
Jazz nodded in his direction. He felt it, too. It was all the proof she needed, really.
She raced home, speeding up the stairs and into her room in record time. Phantom, lying on her bed in his human form, startled visibly.
"Jazz?" he asked, lowering his voice—in case anyone else was around, probably. "What's wrong? Why are you in such a rush?"
"There's a new counselor," she started explaining, hurriedly. "There's something suspicious about her, I think. Do you know anything about Penelope Spectra?"
Phantom froze. His shoulders drew up, tense.
Then, suddenly, he swore. Loudly.
She started, backing up a step. Or two. Phantom didn't seem to notice, anyway, caught up in his anger.
"God dammit," he growled, under his breath. "How could I forget? This is right about the same time as when she came to Casper High in my timeline. Fuck!"
"So she's bad?" Jazz guessed, feebly. She'd already suspected that Penelope was bad news, but what could've driven Phantom to react so explosively? Not even Vlad had brought out such a bad reaction.
Phantom snarled, heaving for breath. His fingers were buried deep in his hair, disappearing in the black locks. His eyes shone bright and green, unnatural and off in his human face.
"The worst," he finally managed, voice low and grim. "She's a ghost, feeding on people's negative emotions. Their fear, especially. She's a walking nightmare—finds your deepest fears and digs into them. All your worries, your insecurities, your doubts. She weaponizes them, turns your mind against you."
He scoffed. "And her touch worsens it, as well. She'll dig her claws into you, and down the depressive spiral you go."
"Oh…" That was… a lot worse than she'd expected. Why hadn't Jazz— oh. She'd thought that it was Sidney who kept setting off her ghost sense, but it must've been Penelope. Spectra? "We need to stop her, then!"
"We can't fight her." He lunged over to her, grabbing her by the shoulder. Shook her a little. "Seriously, Jazz, listen to me. We can't fight her head-on."
"So then what?" She swatted his hand off of her shoulder. "You want me to ignore her presence in the school? Let her leech off of everyone else's fear, worries, doubts?"
Phantom shot her an offended look. The green leeched out of his eyes, returning them to their original blue. "Of course not! Of course we'll take her out, Jazz, but we can't fight her."
"Well, how did you take her out, then?"
"I—" He sighed, then sat down on her bed again. "I didn't. Not really. I tried to, but she pinned me down. Got her claws in me, and I couldn't throw her off again. She sapped all my strength away, all my confidence. She would've killed me, Jazz."
"What… what happened?" How was he still here, then? He must've won somehow, right? They just had to do that!
The look he threw at her was sad. Sad, and reminiscent. "Jazz saved me. She stormed in with the Fenton Ghost Peeler. Took down Spectra in one hit. With her claws off of me, I got enough sense in me to use the Thermos and catch her."
"Alright, well— We'll just have to skip some of that!" They couldn't use the Peeler—it didn't work for half-ghosts, and she didn't trust her parents not to go for them instead of Spectra. But that was fine! "We can't fight Spectra, sure, but we don't have to! I can go through the teachers to get her fired, and then— then— um…"
"And then we'll ambush her," Phantom finished, his eyes flashing green for just a brief moment. Like courage had flooded back into him. "She won't be expecting us, not so quickly. We'll ambush her with Thermoses, catch her before she can attack anyone."
"Yeah!" She nodded. "We'll take her out, just like that!"
"Mr. Lancer," Jazz started, softening her posture as much as she could. She needed him to listen to her pleas. "Could I talk to you about the new school counselor?"
"Of course." He frowned a little, a crease in his brow. "What is wrong, Miss Fenton?"
"I…" She licked her lips, suddenly nervous. Her entire plan with Phantom hinged on her managing this. She couldn't be too direct, but not too gentle, either. "I don't think she's very good at her job."
"Oh?" The crease in Lancer's brow deepened. "I assure you, Jazz, she has very good credentials. Lots of praise for her work."
Yeah, praise no doubt acquired by overshadowing her superiors. The advantages of being a ghost, huh?
"Yes, well— I don't know, Mr. Lancer. It just seems to me that things aren't getting better." She turned her gaze downwards. "Is it really necessary to have her around?"
Lancer sighed, deep and heavy. He looked a little pained, and Jazz felt sorry for doing this to him, but… it was necessary. For the greater good.
If he knew what Spectra was, what she did, he would've agreed.
"Things have been hard for a lot of people in this city recently, as I'm sure you know," Lancer started explaining. "Your parents are no doubt excited about the… the ghosts, but they are among the few. And with the violence, the fact that these ghosts are attacking people in the city…"
"Not all of them," Jazz interrupted, automatically. She heard it so much at home. How Specter and Phantom were just like all the other ghosts, fighting over territory or whatever. The leading theory changed almost daily, but one thing remained the same; her parents always thought she was as malevolent as every other ghost.
"No, not every ghost," Lancer agreed lightly, to Jazz' surprise. He ignored her wide-eyed look. "But enough ghosts are. Even if those other two fight the others off, that's still worrying to people. Death has always been a scary thing. To know that the dead remain, might come back as ghosts…"
She could imagine. Despite her parents, she'd always been hesitant to believe that ghosts were real. That the dead could come back in the form of malevolence given a physical form.
"I understand," she told Lancer. "But I don't think Spectra is the right person for this. Since she started here I've seen more and more people getting upset, and hurt."
Lancer's eyes narrowed. "You cannot be suggesting that our new counselor is making people feel worse, Jasmine. Of course the number of people upset by what is happening is increasing; more and more we become aware of the ghosts haunting the city."
"Yes, I get that. But none of the people she has talked to have gotten better." Jazz carded a hand through her hair, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't get too upset. Couldn't flash her eyes. If she did, there was no way of recovering this conversation, or the plan as a whole. "In fact, every single person she's met with seemed to have gotten worse. They walk out of her room completely miserable. Surely that can't be right?"
"No, I would imagine not," Lancer admitted, slowly, clearly reluctant. "But I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary—no one has."
She opened her mouth, but Lancer held up a silencing hand and continued. "Although I suppose something might've been missed. There has been a lot going on, recently, with the ghost attacks, and the preparations for those. I will keep a closer eye on Penelope, and on the students she attends to. Okay?"
"Yeah." She grinned, hesitantly. "Thank you, Mr. Lancer."
"Of course. It's my job as vice principal to make sure any concerns are dealt with." He softened visibly, smiling back. "Anything else?"
"No, I'm good." She grabbed her backpack. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Lancer!"
Cold burst from Jazz' core, and she paused in the hallway. Ran a quick calculation in her head; where in the school was she, and what were the chances that this was Sidney?
Low, she decided, and turned around to look for the spectral intruder.
Mr. Lancer stood next to Spectra, talking in front of her office. Her assistant—apparently ghostly counselors had those—stood next to her, an unhappy expression on his face.
Wait. Was she getting fired?
Yeah, it definitely seemed that way. Well, shoot. She needed to get out there with Phantom and a Thermos immediately.
She rushed off, speeding towards an abandoned part of the school without seeming suspicious. Cold wisped from her mouth again on the way, and, hoping, she asked, "Sidney?"
"You're in a rush," he replied, and she thanked her lucky stars that it was him. "What's going on, Jazz?"
"Spectra's getting fired," she said, as rushed as she was feeling. "I need you to find Phantom and tell him."
"Yessir." The cold feeling left almost as soon as he'd said it, and Jazz continued on. She just hoped they were quick enough. Surely Spectra would hold off for longer? She wasn't much of a fighter, was she?
Jazz ducked into an abandoned bathroom, pulling on her core the moment the door closed. Hurry hurry hurry.
Light flashed and she went from walking to flying in one smooth step, phasing through the walls. Belatedly she turned herself invisible as well, racing back towards the front of the school.
No Spectra, and no assistant. Where could they have gone? She went further up, hoping to spot the two, dropping her invisibility along the way.
Her ghost sense went off again, and she jerked. Sidney became visible, Phantom right on his tail.
"Oh," she said, extinguishing the ecto-blast she didn't even realize she had formed. "Thanks for getting him, Sidney."
"Yeah, no prob." He nodded to her. "I'm leaving. Good luck with the counselor, Jazz."
He flew off before she could reply. In his wake, Phantom started peering around.
"I don't know where she went," Jazz admitted. "I had to go pretty far away to find a quiet spot to transform. Now what?"
"I'm… not sure." Tension was clearly visible in Phantom's shoulders, the tight coiling of his muscles. "We need to find her before she—"
A scream.
Both she and Phantom whirled towards the sound. Without discussion they both knew what to do, speeding towards it.
The street was filled with panicking people, screaming and shouting and— and all kinds of chaos. A bright green ghost bounced around, keeping the crowd from escaping. It was almost like a fluid, how easily it changed shapes. From a shapeless blob to a wolf to a ninja and then back again.
And, above it all, the ghost in charge. Entirely black, appearance flickering unsteadily like flames, bar her terrifyingly sharp talon-like fingers. Her eyes were the only points of color; bright red like embers, and completely empty.
Spectra, and her assistant, Bertrand.
"Fuck, we're too late," Phantom swore, dropping to a roof nearby. Neither of the ghosts had seen them yet. "There's no way we can get them in a Thermos now; the fear of those people is making Spectra too powerful."
"So now what?" Jazz hissed back, hunkering down as well. "I thought we stood no chance in a direct fight?"
"Well, we have no other choice." His bright green eyes darted to her, then to Spectra, and then down to Bertrand. "We need to free the civilians, but if we focus exclusively on them, Spectra will slaughter us. I'll distract her, you get Bertrand."
"What? Phantom, I thought she was—"
"Dangerous? Yeah, but I'll stand a better chance than you." He grabbed her shoulder, shooting her something that was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. "Get Bertrand, and then we'll get Spectra together. It'll be okay—I've fought her before."
"And lost," she said, but he'd already turned around and, in that moment, kicked off from the roof.
God, was her actual brother as bull-headed as this version, or was that a half-ghost thing?
No point in fighting it, now. The only thing she could was take out Bertrand as quickly as she could.
She dove off of the roof, towards the crowd that Bertrand was circling. Above her, she heard Phantom yell out.
"Hey, Spectra! Thought you were more of the prying type? What happened, huh?"
Bertrand paused where he was circling, looking up towards Phantom. Jazz risked a glance as well; Phantom had paused near Spectra, but out of her reach.
The other ghost scoffed, cocking her head at Phantom. "Shows what you know, hmm? What is the point of spending such efforts acquiring bits of negative emotions when I can just knock them free in one go!"
Jazz twisted in her dive, angling herself slightly. Bertrand was still staring up. Just a little more…
She hit the ghost with an enormous impact. Wrapped her arms around his waist—or what passed for his waist—and physically dragged him away from the crowd. They screamed and yelled as she sped past, but she ignored it.
Bertrand growled, becoming almost liquid-like in her arms. Slipped out like it was nothing. He landed back on the ground, shifting into a wolf-like appearance. Bared his teeth at her.
Jazz landed as well, boots noiselessly touching down. Golden ecto-blasts formed in her hands with a mere thought.
"Oh, look at the little ghost girl," the wolf taunted, through its sharp teeth. "Do you really think you stand a chance?"
She stamped down on the self-doubt. Don't listen to him. Don't worry about it. Just do your best.
The first ecto-blast went flying, but Bertrand dodged easily.
"What's this?" he continued to jeer, landing easily. "Can't find your words? Do you know, deep inside, that you really can't win?"
"Got better things to do than listen to your idiocy," she snarled back, firing two more blasts. Bertrand's form loosened like slime, easily twisting around the two blasts.
"Is that so?" His voice was as slimy as his body, his words as sharp as his teeth. "Like attend to your floundering grades? Or perhaps engage with all those friends of yours? Ah, or were you planning to spend more time with your oh-so lovely parents?"
She growled, firing two more blasts. This time, however, she sped in after them.
Bertrand dodged the two orbs of golden energy, twisting to smirk in her direction. In the direction where she'd been.
Jazz crashed into him at full speed, released another ecto-blast directly against his center. It exploded, the blast of energy knocking them apart again.
They both rolled over the street, and Jazz groaned. Alright, maybe that didn't quite work out as planned. She pushed herself up on her hands, glancing over to Bertrand.
Gone.
Uh oh.
The green wolf crashed into her with force, straight towards one of the buildings lining the street. He'd probably planned to pin her against the wall, but she turned herself intangible—and him as well.
A bounce over the hard tiled floor. She tried to continue the momentum in a roll, but Bertrand pinned her down, paws on her wrists.
"You think you're such a hero, don't you?" he jeered, sharp teeth inches from her face. His breath stunk of ectoplasm; copper and citrus. "Such a mature little girl, saving the town all on her own?"
She kneed him right in the leg. Bertrand sunk down, and she pushed him off the rest of the way. Rolled up into a crouch.
"You're an idiot if you think I'm alone," she snapped back, reaching for her Thermos while Bertrand was down. "The two of you aren't the only partnered ghosts in this city."
Bertrand shifted back into his base form, lunging for her with arms outreached. This time she was ready for him, however.
The Thermos whirled to life, its blue vortex catching one of Bertrand's arms.
"No!" he yelled, twisting around himself like he was trying to wrench himself free. "You— You two stand no chance against her!"
Jazz opened her mouth to snark back, but realized, too late—
It was a distraction.
The ecto-blast, as green as Phantom's, hit her right in the chest.
She crashed back against the wall. Her head cracked against the hard surface, and her vision blackened briefly. Pain wracked through her, sharp and piercing.
Her core thumped in her chest. She could taste the ectoplasm in the air decreasing. Bertrand might've landed a last hit, but he hadn't gotten away.
Her core thumped again.
Jazz jerked where she sat, opened her eyes—when had she closed them? Her hands clawed towards her chest, to the steady thumping.
She caught sight of her clothes—the long black sleeves, bare hands, blue jeans. The tension leeched out again, a brief sigh of relief.
The thumping wasn't her core at all. It was just her heart. Its pounding echoed in her head, a dull thrum.
No time to rest, though. She had taken out Bertrand, but Phantom was gonna need all the help he could get to take down Spectra. She could deal with the headache—and the other pains—later.
Light flashed as she shifted back to Specter, the blinding light briefly aggravating her headache. The Thermos laid still in the center of the room, and she dragged herself back over to it. Swept it off the ground easily, capped it, put it back on her belt.
"And now for the really bad one," she said. Her stomach twisted. She didn't want to, but she had no choice. She had to. It was her responsibility. Phantom was relying on her. Amity was relying on her.
A door creaked, and Jazz startled out of her thoughts.
Danny stood in the opening, blue eyes large, sweat beading over his skin. Was this her actual brother? He hadn't seen, had he?
"Specter!" he shouted when his eyes landed on her. "You need to get out there! The other ghost, he needs you!"
That was a yes on the brother thing, and a no on having seen her shift. Good.
Wait.
"Shit," she swore, pushing off the ground. What they really needed was… "We need more firepower!"
She phased through the wall, back into the open air. The street had been abandoned, all civilians having fled when she had drawn Bertrand away. Spectra had pinned Phantom against a building, green energy coiling around them. She couldn't tell whose it was.
A blast of golden energy knocked Spectra off of Phantom as Jazz sped in closer. "Get away from him!"
"What's this?" Deep black shifted like flame, the pits of red turning back to Jazz. Spectra grinned at her, and Jazz could feel the shivers crawl down her spine. "Come to offer yourself up as well, little girl? Thought you could succeed where he can't?"
"We're a team," she growled back, pouring as much energy into her fists as she could. "I don't need to be better than him at all."
"Oh, please," Spectra chattered, a tone like laughter in her voice. "Like either of you really—"
A green explosion knocked her out of the air entirely. Spectra crashed down on the street, leaving Phantom hovering in her place.
"She really doesn't know when to stop talking," he growled, the last traces of ectoplasm misting away from his hand. His eyes flicked away from their opponent and to Jazz, briefly. "Are you okay?"
Not really. Her head was killing her. She hadn't felt such pain since the accident.
"I will be," she said instead of expressing any of that. "I got Bertrand in the Thermos. We just need to deal with her."
"Yeah, easier said than done." Phantom's eyes had locked onto Spectra again, and Jazz followed his sight. She was rising off of the ground already, and her glow remained strong and steady.
"Keep your distance," Phantom continued, not looking away. "We'll have to keep circling, make sure she can't get her claws into either of us. Rely on your ecto-blasts."
"Gotcha." She nodded, pulling her legs together in a spectral tail. Coiled herself up for the dive.
Phantom nodded as well. Dove. She followed a step behind him.
When he split to Spectra's left, she went right. Discharged her first blast simultaneously with Phantom's.
But Spectra dodged as easily as Bertrand had, lunging towards Jazz. Had identified her as the weaker point, too.
Jazz managed to twist her tail out of Spectra's clawing reach, but she'd lost all momentum in the process. Phantom blasted Spectra away again, but they had lost the circling already.
"Fuck," she heard him swear distantly. She was focused on her own core, on the rapidly depleting energy it contained.
She shot an ecto-blast of her own, but Spectra swatted it away like it was nothing.
"Oh boy," Jazz mumbled, backing away again. Spectra chased her, pursuing at the same speed as she had.
Another blast of energy—blue?—swung past her, hitting Spectra in the chest. The ghost crashed back to the ground, large crystals spiking from the impact site.
Phantom came up next to Jazz, his presence more comforting than she'd thought it would be. He continued to launch the blue blasts at Spectra. Every blast spread more ice onto the ghost, freezing her back to the ground every time she broke loose.
"I can't keep this up forever," Phantom informed her, voice strained. "This isn't weakening her. I have something that'll weaken her enough for the Thermos, but it'll cost me everything I've got."
They were out in the open. Anybody could be watching. Hell, she knew for a fact that her actual brother was nearby.
"You can't," she told Phantom, heart clenching. Her core spluttered. She didn't have enough energy to weaken Spectra. Could barely cling to ghost form. "Phantom, you can't."
A sharp crack. Jazz' eyes snapped back to Spectra. Phantom had paused just too long between blasts. She was loose once more.
"Fuck," he swore again, passionately and so tired. "Time for round three."
She pulled herself back into a fighting position. Energy wisped through her fists. They just had to— to last a little longer. Outlast Spectra.
The ghost in question snarled. Coiled like a snake. Shot towards them, claws outreached.
A blast of green whizzed between them, and Spectra screeched to a halt. Jazz felt her heart stop in her chest.
On the ground, cloaked in heavy metal armor, stood Danny Fenton.
"Oh, thank the lord," Phantom breathed next to her. Why was he so excited to see—
oh.
That armor her brother was wearing was the Fenton Ghost Peeler. The weapon that Phantom's sister had used to take out Spectra the first time.
"Let's go distract her, make sure he can land a hit," Phantom told her. Before she could reply, he dove, fast as lightning.
Energy rushed through her core, like hope given shape.
Final stretch, she thought to herself. Then she dove as well, legs merging back into a spectral tail.
She swept past Spectra, low to the ground. Glanced just on the edge of her reach. Before Spectra could lunge, however, Jazz darted away again.
On the other side, Phantom flung himself high. Fired off an ecto-blast against Spectra's back, not enough power to knock her away, but strong enough to draw her attention.
With the ghost distracted, Jazz shot past again. Darted right over Spectra's flaring hair.
Before Spectra could dig her talons into Jazz, Phantom dove low. Froze her twisting tail back to the street.
They both split away from their opponent, almost in perfect sync.
Danny took the opportunity for what it was. The Peeler's shot whistled through the air and hit Spectra straight in the chest.
She screeched, high and piercing like a banshee's call. Her outer layer literally peeled away, the black opening up to her human form. Then that split apart, leaving a slightly older version of Spectra's human form.
As Jazz watched, several more layers peeled away from Spectra's body until, finally, just a shriveled old woman was left. She jerked around, but couldn't break free of Phantom's ice anymore.
"No!" she screamed, clawing at her face. "No! My beautiful youth!"
"Yeah, you know what? I've heard enough from you already." Phantom uncapped his Thermos.
Spectra was dragged in without a struggle, and finally, finally, the fight was done.
Jazz sighed, feeling the full force of her exhaustion and pain come back. She was gonna sleep for a week to get over this again, jeez. But first…
She cocked her head towards Danny, and Phantom nodded. They both lowered themselves back to the one human left on the street.
"Thank you," Jazz told him, watching as the armor slid back into the Ghost Peeler. "For your help just now. We couldn't have done it without you."
"Yeah, of course." Danny shrugged, easily, casually. Like he hadn't just gone against years of their parents' lessons about ghosts to help them. "Don't worry about it."
"Specter," Phantom said, a tone of urgency in his voice. "We'd better get going."
Her core twitched, drawing on the last vestiges of power.
"Right. Let's." She nodded towards Danny again, trying to wordlessly convey her gratitude. He grinned back, like he understood, somehow.
The two of them fled. They didn't go very far—Jazz crash-landed on a nearby roof when her core gave out. Phantom shifted back too, the bags under his eyes far more pronounced than she'd ever seen them.
"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching next to her. "That was a pretty rough fight."
"Our first big one, wasn't it?" She let herself slump down, her head resting against Phantom's shoulder. "Bertrand got me a few times—I hit my head pretty hard. But I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" he asked, his cool fingers carefully combing through her hair. Looking for injuries, probably. "You're allowed to not be, you know?"
"I'll be fine, Danny." She rested her head on his shoulder. His hand paused, then shifted, slid to rest on her arm. "I'm fine, and the city's fine, and we're both okay. Everything went alright."
He laughed, weakly. "Well, I hope you're ready for what's next. Now we're really in for it."
"Oh?" She considered lifting her head again, but it was heavy with exhaustion. No looking at Phantom's expression, then.
"Now Amity really knows who we are," he explained. "About our team."
"Oh," she said again. "That's fine. We are a team."
"Right." He swallowed so heavily she could feel him move. "Of course."
Big fighting scene! I always struggle with fighting scenes, but this one was really important, so I wanted to do it well. Personally, I really like how it turned out, even if it doesn't 100% adhere to my original plans! (originally Danny Fenton was gonna talk with Specter a little more, and they would run into the fight against Spectra together) Spectra is a really neat villain, I think, and criminally underused (which, admittedly, I'm also guilty of). She also functions as a brilliant counterpoint to Jazz, and her debut episode was an important step in the canon DP timeline.
Anyway, next week, chapter 7: Shades of Gray