A/N: 'This' conveys a character's thoughts and "this" what they're verbally saying.
The beginning written in italics is a dream sequence.

Chapter IV: Sensible Truths

The gentle ticks of a clock fill the peaceful confines of a silent room. Tranquil in its nature of still air.

"Vlad?"

Glaringly red eyes drunkenly sway in the empty dark.

"Oh my boy." It halls and reverberates eerily everywhere, suddenly all at once in the startled child's head. Dripping like poisoned honey. Honey so toxic it burns a path down the hill. Sanity awaits the boy not beneath. "Has it never occurred to you that I can take as much as I give?"

"What have you given me? Nothing!"

"Oh but my dear boy," prickling shivers wrack his smaller frame, fragile in the scrutiny of the other "I have never said you can keep anything I might offer you. In fact, I will now be taking everything back rightfully belonging to me."

As the eyes burning with horrid evil shoot toward the defenseless teen a tranquil room greets a startled man. Still adjusting to a reality that could as well be a trap flitting eyes widen in alarm. The room he finds himself in is unfamiliar, a sense of dread and confusion mingling into a toxic mix.

'Where the fuck am I?'

Further contemplation yields no tangible result, forcing the teen to cautiously approach the windows, peeking through a sliver in the curtains. As the aggravating light is fading a clear sky and rich greenery resting on vast fields now merrily greet the distraught figure.

'At least it's not the ghost zone. Was I kidnapped by humans?'

Pondering for what he would later on consider an embarrassingly long amount of time the realization hits him with the jolt of a thunderbolt.

'Of course it's Vlad! What other insane lunatic would kidnap the nobody son of the local ghost hunters? Idiot.'

Doors most likely locked and reinforced he calmly drenches his mortal being in ghostly energy, black hair eerily floating in nonexistent windy currents. Something feels off. Something is off, inherently, undeniably wrong and unsettling. The energy is different, his limbs feel alien and awkward, his core vibrates to tunes unknown. The unearthly being lights up his hand, engulfing it in familiar ghostly energy. Yet the energy isn't green. Instead red-tinted powerful pulses flicker, casting soft shadows on sharp features. So alien and yet so undeniably familiar. Too familiar. A look at every inch of his new self available in both forms confirms in no uncertainty what the boy fears to accept as truth.

A dream. No. Alternate reality? Clockwork perhaps? Intent on returning to his normal life the teen now wearing the itchy skin of his nemesis desperately searches his memory for mistakes to atone for, yet there are too many. Perhaps a slight against Vlad in the heat of the moment Clockwork deemed too inappropriate? What if he indeed needs to learn more about his nemesis to prevent another tragedy?

'Is Vlad scheming something again? Or was he sincere this time?'

Suddenly recalling the late encounter in a rundown hospital he groans at the confrontation with his own mistakes once again, yelling "For fuck's sake." into the empty room. It would seem that he has not yet gotten rid of his self-important naivete yet. Not at all. And now it would come back to haunt him for however long he takes to resolve the new morale and learn his new life lesson like the good student he is supposed to be. A thought suddenly strikes him, draining his pale face from any color it might have previously held onto, ghostly transformation already changing the aged skin.

'If I am here, then Vlad must be where I'm supposed to be.'

Morbid thoughts spinning one gruesome tale after another the ghostly entity takes off, only realizing his foolishness after colliding with a powerful shield head on. Thrown back a few feet and still awkwardly twitching with disrupted energy running wild in feral bursts he cannot believe he forgot the ever present ghost shield in his haste. That would not do in his now less frantic mind. One inattentive step and one of his enemies might get the best of him. Floating in breezy air with a centered mind the boy becomes aware of an uncomfortable fact. His lower regions feel aired out. Which they shouldn't be. Looking down a hospital garb lazily floats in dangerous levitation.

'Don't think about it. DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.' A flash of a mental picture and he is cursing himself to an extent that would leave even his verbally strong goth friend speechless.

About to smash his head into the nearest brickwall he suppresses the strong urge in favor of putting on something less incriminating. A pair of deeply black trousers and a navy turtleneck later he is ready to pursue his initial goal, fading through walls and seamlessly stepping through the shield. After which he has to face the fact that he will have to carry the clothes for his ghostform as they seemingly vanish with each transformation. Thoroughly disgruntled the young undead teen now carries a bundle of clothing past the incriminating shield before putting it back on and taking off.

'Of course Vlad would not even exclude his own signature from the shield, paranoid loop.' Continuing the rash travel back home another problem pops up from the ground with such a sudden surprise that it makes the worried man stumble and halt. The territory might be familiar, yet the way back not as much. Not enough to travel without getting lost along the way. Entirely bypassing the already blooming frustration a cold calculative wave sweeps every frantic thought away, leaving only fodder for upcoming solutions behind.

'Amity should be further West, if I track the sun…it's morning judging by the air and ground, which means this way is East and the other West. Alright then, Southwest we go. Maybe I should take his phone with me as well, just to be sure.'

Repeating the troublesome process with a groan he is soon invisibly on his way, stopping only a few times to orient himself and trek back before he can be sure that his hometown is not very far. The familiar display of an ominous warning looms in the distance, growing in size. 'Amity Park' displayed in bold letters on a worn sign. Soon he whizzes past it with a speed nearly unseen. In the blink of a mortal eye he spots his 'visually underappreciated' house, crawling towards the sky from regular houses. Halting just before what he knows to be the invisible border of an unpleasantly buzzing ghostshield. Translucent bare feet touch the rough grimy asphalt of an unseeming alleyway before the usual transformation brings back a part of humanity the ghostboy didn't think Vlad was capable of possessing. Suddenly reminded of what he was wearing before the transformation however he is now faced with the fact that currently there is an old disgruntled man standing in an alley with bare feet, clad only in silky nightwear. Barely a street away from his notoriously suspicious parents.

'Great. If somebody sees me like this I'm dead meat. Vlad you damn lunatic!'

Deeply sunken in thought about possible actions and solutions to a problem so fleeting and incomprehensible he remembers his less than savory appearance when he hears a hushed "Vlad?" from the entrance of his sketchy hiding place. Going invisible is not an option anymore.

'Just bolt it? I should clear it up. But I don't have any excuse.'

Making the decision for him the unknown figure approaches slowly but steadily. "Hey Vlad, is everything alright?"

He recognizes that voice. How could he not? Suddenly the young teen is faced with the fact that he has to not only dress like Vlad, but also act like him. Either act or be faced with the catastrophic multitude of consequences. Questions. Experiments. Reveal of the truth. What is one more lie? One more act? One more twisted smile?

Stomach churning and cold sweat cascading in freezing waves he turns. Two pairs of eyes lock, icy pale blue rings staring unwaveringly into a beautiful violet. Locking away himself into the deepest part of himself with an urgent shove a smarmy smile grotesquely paints a face marred with age.

"Madeline." his voice sounds too unsteady still, he shoves every personality he has down deeper until his tone is as smooth as the movement of a snake, "What a pleasure to see you."

He turns around, painfully slow like a showman, keeping his audience at the edge of their seats with bated breath. A breath too strong, an exhalation too rushed and the captivating magic might simmer, a mirage fading into the heat. Turning around might have proven a mistake, if a strange one. Expecting the usual fear and distaste leveled at the woman he is supposed to call mother something else fills the emotional chaotic void. Something sinister.

Eyes increasingly honing in on the petite figure standing a few feet away in the dim light the ghostly teen is suddenly filled with an urge. It calls to him in strange voices, whispering to him, beckoning him.

'Come closer. Protect. Come closer even. Closer. CLOSER.'

Stunned by the hypnotic call he comes closer, taking a step forward without conscious notice. A frown and moving dark lips stop the boy in further advances, waking his muddled brain from its comatose sleep.

'What…was I about to do? What was that?'

"Vlad?!" she calls louder this time, finally taking hold of his attention.

Shaken from the stupor he mentally flails for a minute before realizing that he is in fact still in his nemesis' body. Still standing in an alley wearing only thin nightwear.

'Shit what should I say? Okay I shouldn't stall for too long, that'll only make her even more suspicious.'

"Do forgive me for my inattention Madeline. It seems that I might have found myself at the mercy of a ghost's terribly unfunny joke. Either that or I am of some use to another one of their moronic plans." An eyebrow raised in skepticism is the only commentary the other woman deigns him with.

"I might not look very astute right now, which is partly due to a sudden kidnapping stunt from within the very walls of my bedroom." The seemingly nonchalant man shrugs his shoulders in slight embarrassment, "Pity that you have to see me like this."

"Wait. A ghost managed to kidnap you from your house? Don't you have a ghost shield?" The barely visible tick of widening eyes accompanies the almost fearfully hesitant questioning.

Running along with the story Vlad continues, carefully crafting each lie in a way she is left unable to determine its viability.

"Indeed. Even if I am reluctant to admit that something got past my defenses, ghostly or otherwise. I will have to search for the lapse in security."

The sickly pale complexion of his still mother gives him pause. Something is amiss.

'Maybe I made her worry by telling her that a ghost might have gotten past my ghost shield.'

"Oh but worry not Madeline, I will keep you informed and notify you the moment I find the lapse."

He can see the relief those words bring her, making the nervous teen feel light and strangely positive.

'The sooner I get outta here the better.'

"If you'll excuse me dear, I still have a culprit to catch and a company to run."

Hastily the older man turns to the opposite side of the grey walkway with a "Until we meet again." slipping from his deft tongue, accompanied by an empty smile and even more unconvincing tone.

"Vlad."

Tensing muscles, freezing nerves, an entire being drowned in anticipation with no way out. Instincts on alert the disguised man prepares for a quick retreat, half baked solutions sprinting around, tripping on panicked waves. Adrenaline, always so familiar, yet never nearly enough. Not anymore, nor ever again. She still holds the leash to the boy's being, yet why doesn't it feel as terrifying as it should?

Shoulders loosen from a strung tenseness like a puppet's limbs. Lose strings, yet not cut. Never severed. Never free.

"Mmhm?" The words fall and crash from his tongue in heavy bricks. "Sad to see me go already?" With each uttered atrocity of a sentence the nausea usually controlled becomes less bearable with each passing second. "I could stay of course, I was planning on staying in Amity for a while anyway, pay you and your family a visit."

The bile rising ever higher at these utterances settles somewhat when the teen catches sight of his mother's face, contorted in the display of a revolted grimace. And still something strange and uneasy slithers in the boy's chest. A snake dissatisfied with every inch its body touches.

The beautiful women's cherry lips part, an unsure "An-" slipping out before the rest is cut off inaudibly by a hollow shriek, punctuated by a sudden brutal explosion. The vibrations resonate within their chests, trained bodies flowing seamlessly at the snap of a finger into a moving crouch, marching out as soldiers trained in war undeniably would. Eyes focus, muscles tighten, adrenaline flows in rivers, weapons and powers alike at the mercy of a trigger. Rounding the crumbled corner of the alley the trained hunters are suddenly confronted with grotesque birds glowing eerily in a bright toxic green, circling the neighborhood, spreading inane screeches and destructive chaos alike. Silvery blue eyes widen in unhinged recognition before slitting in suspicious analysis.

'Vultures.'

Chase me up the hillrise, knock me down upon a jokester's jest.