Chapter LVII
Danny rested his head against the brick wall of Casper High's gymnasium. The school had been called in before the end of the short day and the start of the new week to go over every excruciating detail as to why there would be no school for the next several days. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have Mr. Lancer as their teacher, though. The English teacher had told his classes the cause of the unexpected vacation the day after the damage was done rather than wait for them to hear it later.
Danny looked on glumly as the principal stood before the students at the makeshift podium. He imagined the long winded speech that would likely be riddled with large and possibly made up words, irrelevant and inappropriate metaphors and an overall inadequate explanation that would fail to satisfy even the blondest of blondes. So there Danny sat, bored out of his skull and praying that some sort of time bending ghost would magically appear and send him into the future. The notion brought a grin to his face. If only one existed.
Strangely enough, despite his "epic" battle the night before, Danny felt as if he had woken up from a dreamless, comfortable, eight hour long sleep. It would have been very puzzling had Danny forgotten about his regenerative properties. He decided that his lack of fatigue was a result of his healing powers. While his assumption was incorrect, he was not tired from whatever the case would turn out to be. Still, that was no reason the boredom couldn't suck his energy from him.
Danny begrudgingly removed his head from the wall to look at Principal Ishiyama as she tapped the microphone to make sure the device was working.
"Class," she began. "Today we have a very important speaker. Please give your undivided attention to Miss Vanessa Masters, the president of Casper High."
Any sleepiness, any sort of sluggishness was whisked out of Danny before he had time to realize it was gone. The boy watched in fear as the woman appeared from a door at the far side of the gym. Applause was given by the faculty and the student body. Danny noticed that most of the older boys were cheering especially loudly. As if . . .
Danny's nervousness decreased as the woman coolly took her place behind the podium and quieted the school with a dismissive wave.
"Everyone, I'm sure you're all eager to get out of here and start enjoying your short week. I certainly don't want to hold you back from it, but I have a few things I need to say to all of you." Danny was grateful she hadn't spotted him yet, or decided not to look at him if she had. "First and foremost, the damage to your school was caused by a ghost attack. There was quite a bit of damage done to the building, as you can all see, but with repair crews working diligently in your absence, this school will be as good as new within a week."
She paused to shuffle several papers around and skim through the contents. "Ah, yes." The woman cleared her throat. "It has also been brought to my attention that there is some sort of twisted tradition where a boy from the senior class acts out the scene from the Family Guy cartoon where one of the characters-" Vanessa squinted at the paper, allowed her jaw to drop slightly, then scowled at the document. "Well, it involves a window . . ." the senior class began to snicker. "That is not going to happen in this school from now on, understand?" The snickering was replaced by a chorus of mumbled yes ma'am's, although everyone knew that the charade would go on unimpeded. "Good. Keep out of trouble for the next month or two and we won't have to meet up again. Any questions?"
Nobody said anything.
"Have a nice vacation, then," Vanessa said with a smile.
The class hurried down the bleachers, practically baying with the desire to escape the halls of Casper High. Danny moved among them, hoping that he hadn't been spotted. A firm yet unmistakably feminine hand clamped on his shoulders as if to say it was not his lucky day.
"Daniel," she said cheerily. "How good it is to see you again!"
Danny cast a glance to his left and right. Nobody was paying them any mind, so Danny felt free to speak his.
"What do you want, Plasmius?" he said in a hushed tone. "I mean, besides my mom's head and my dad's love."
The woman rolled her eyes and gestured to the now empty bleachers. Danny hesitated before following her to sit down.
"I've been waiting to have a little chat since the last time we met up," Vanessa said. "How have you been?"
"Again with the small talk!" Danny said exasperatedly. "I know what you are, you know what I am, you want to kill me and there's nothing I could do to stop you if I tried. Just cut to the chase already."
"I never said I wanted to kill you. Quite the contrary, actually," Vanessa said. "When your little friend told you about my position of authority here, what was your initial reaction?"
"I figured it was something you'd probably do," Danny said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You wanted some sort of strategic advantage over me. I mean, other than the dozens you have already." Danny looked around the gym and shook his head. "Well, you got it. What do you want now?"
"Nothing at the moment. I bought this school to ensure your safety. Well, physically at least. I can't say I'm doing too well in the emotional field. What was your last girlfriend's name, Veronica?"
"Valerie," Danny corrected glumly.
"Ah, yes, of course. It seems you certainly know how to pick them," the woman said mockingly.
Danny glared at her. "They were both amazing, but they both stabbed me in the back."
Why'd I say that? Spectra might have been a conniving she-devil, but Valerie needs her space now, it's perfectly fine . . .
"Is that all it takes?" Vanessa said with a grin. "Maybe I'm next on the list?"
Danny forced a laugh. "Oh yeah, because that wouldn't be weird at all."
Vanessa smiled. "What about us is normal to start with, Daniel?"
"Well," Danny pondered for a moment. "We're both at least half human, we both have, uh, connections to my family-" Vanessa laughed. "What's so funny?" Danny asked impatiently. "I had more!"
"How is it that you're sitting here with me in an empty gymnasium calmly thinking of all the ways we're similar when you were about to jump down my throat only minutes ago?"
Danny's lightened expression faltered. He thought for a moment before speaking. "Imagine if you were sitting barely five feet away from someone who was leaps and bounds ahead of you in power. You know that you could probably run, but it wouldn't do much good. The other person could catch you in the blink of an eye. They might kill you, torture you or whatever their sick mind can come up with, but they'd rather just shoot the breeze." Danny sighed. "I'm not going to waste time and drag out getting killed."
Vanessa lay back on the bleachers. "Well, I guess that's another thing we have in common," she said quietly. "But I already told you, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to observe . . . for now."
Danny stood from his seat. "Well, don't do too much of that. Otherwise you'll end up on To Catch a Predator."
The older woman laughed. "Very well, you've made your point. Go ahead and leave, but just know that, even when I'm not around, I'm still watching you."
Vanessa vanished from sight, and Danny focused on his ghostly energies locked inside him. If his conversation with his mortal enemy had been confusing, the result of his concentration was just downright shocking.
Beads of sweat ran down Tucker's face. He wanted so desperately to wipe them away with his free hand, but he knew the slightest movement could wind up in his humiliation. The teenager was forced to endure the drops that trickled from his forehead and cruelly stung his eyes.
Tucker cast a glance at the young woman across from him. Her face was contorted from exertion of force, but she was not experiencing the same hydration problem he was. Her eyes briefly met his and she flashed a quick smile before diverting her attention.
"You – know – you – can't – keep – this – up – much – lon – ger," he muttered between breaths.
"Nei – ther – can –you," the girl replied.
Tucker pushed with all his might, surprised to find that the young lady was able to match him in strength. I need to work out more, he thought.
The girl's face twisted from determined to pained and exhausted. Her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth opened slightly. She moaned as the pressure became too much.
Tucker grinned, although he felt like doing the same. He took the apparent lapse in force to add more of his own. He pushed harder and harder, but her resistance was still reasonably strong.
The girl bit her lower lip to keep her voice from escalating. People were already starting to stare.
"Just – ad – mit – it," Tucker huffed.
"Nev – er!"
Tucker felt the girl apply some uncanny reserve of power, forcing his struggle to sway against his favor. Tucker's eyes widened as he realized he was very close to being denied. He pushed harder, but his efforts were in vain.
With a rather loud moan of satisfaction, Sam slammed Tucker's fist down on the table at the Nasty Burger. The boy cried out in pain as the back of his hand was violently introduced to the plastic surface. He had lost the arm wrestling match.
Tucker grumbled as he wiped his face with several napkins. He begrudgingly reached into his pocket and withdrew a ten dollar bill. The bill had a violet lip print on the upper right corner indicating that it had, at one time, belonged to Sam.
"That'll teach you to bring up abusive ex-boyfriends at the lunch table," the girl said as she swiped the money out of Tucker's grasp and shoved it into her pocket.
"It still doesn't change the fact that you made a very large error in judgment, whether you'll admit to it or not." The boy threw the sweaty napkins into the nearby trash can. "Also, statistics show that nearly eighty-five percent of all US currency has, at one point, been in the g-string of a hooker. Think of that the next time you kiss your money."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Whatever, geek boy." She looked around the fast food place carefully, looking for someone in particular. "Oh come on Danny," she mumbled to nobody. "You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."
"Sam, that was Plasmius back there. You know, Plasmius? As in, the evil billionaire who wants to kill Danny, his mom and Jazz and steal his dad away from him?"
"That's no excuse for being late to lunch, especially on a short day."
Tucker took a sip of his drink. "She'd be a fool to attack him here, what with so many people around and all."
Sam looked at her watch. She wanted to leave soon, but the prospect of spending an entire day of unscheduled fun without Danny seemed . . . pointless.
"Hey guys!"
Sam spun around in her seat wearing an expression of relief. "Oh, now he shows up."
"Dude, what took you so long? We're supposed to hit the arcade, what gives?"
Danny looked between Sam and Tucker, his face comparable to that of a little boy on Christmas day. "Forget the arcade, I've got something that's gonna blow your minds!"
The three teens left the building and went around to the back. Several trees protected any business that went on in the area private, which could either be a good or a bad thing. In Danny's case, it was a very good thing.
"Going ghost!" came his battle cry. Sam and Tucker gasped as the transformation began.
A lone black ring appeared and glowed with a dark green light. It split in half in an identical fashion as his previous process, but the results were undeniably different. When the rings had completed their pass, Danny Fenton was now what could only be described as a monster.
At least an entire foot had been added to his height, due in no small part to the waving tentacles that now sprouted from his head. His arms were massive and rippled with new muscle tissue. His hands ended in razor sharp claws. An interesting feature to note would have been the fact that Phantom no longer had legs. Instead, his lower body was replaced by a ghostly tail. Phantom opened his eyes, revealing solid green orbs that looked on menacingly. His lips parted revealing several rows of vicious teeth. And lastly, planted in the dead center of his chest, was a white letter P, warped into a ghostly form.
"So," Phantom said eagerly. "What do you guys think? Pretty sweet, right?"
"Dude," Tucker said as he cautiously approached his friend. "I don't want to sound like an idiot, but that is so cool!"
"Don't be nervous, guys," Phantom said as he noticed his friends' sudden unease. "It's still me. I'm just insanely cooler."
Tucker poked Phantom's arm, testing the solidity of his friend's new body. Sam approached the other side and rubbed the other arm with her delicate hand. "How did this happen?" she asked.
Phantom brought a clawed finger to his face and scratched his chin. "I have no idea, honestly. I just transformed in the gym after talking to Plasmius and BAM!" the ghost shouted for emphasis, causing his friends to flinch. "I was like this."
"Danny, there's no way you could just undergo a metamorphosis like this in a single night," Tucker explained.
"How do you know?" Phantom asked. "We hardly know anything about ghosts, let alone how they change. I'm only half ghost to boot, so we know even less about my condition."
Tucker seemed to ponder the statement. "Granted, we still don't know how this happened . . . or why. I suggest you go talk to someone, see if they can't help you."
"And who would I talk to?" Phantom inquired. "My parents are out of the question and I'm thinking the Guys in White would use this as a pretty good excuse to take me in for experimentation."
Tucker pulled at the black material that made up Phantom's new body. The ghost smacked his friend's hand away, annoyed. "Why not try Mr. Falluca?" Tucker offered while rubbing his hand. "I mean, the guy works at Axion Labs. Plus he's a freaking genius. I bet he'd help you figure out what caused your new look."
Phantom pondered the suggestion. "Is he a supporter of mine? I mean, does he like me?"
"I don't see why he wouldn't," Tucker replied. "You haven't really done anything to make him not like you."
"But the man works in a high tech facility designed to build weapons to kill ghosts," Phantom countered. "That's not much for positive reinforcement."
"Look, just find him while he's in the street or at his house or something. He can't exactly call security on you," Tucker said.
Phantom sighed. "I don't know about this, Tuck."
"Uh, need I remind you that you're not revealing your secret identity? This is just Phantom, not Danny and Phantom."
The thought seemed to appease the ghost. "That's true . . . alright, I'll do it."
Tucker took a few pictures of his friend on his PDA. "For future reference," the boy explained after getting a skeptical look.
Phantom rolled his eyes, although the gesture was futile as he had no discernable pupils in his new ghost form. Phantom's expression then melted into one of confusion and embarrassment. He looked at his other arm where Sam had been left to rub her hands along his new skin in between the tentacles that defied gravity and flowed upward. The tentacles were also on the other arm, across his shoulders and atop his head. Phantom was a bit perplexed to discover that they were sensitive to touch, and Sam's hand was doing wonders, although she didn't know it.
"Uh, Sam? Could I ask you to stop caressing my arm?" He didn't particularly want her to stop, but necessity overrode desire.
Sam jolted, as if awaken from a dream, and took a step back. "Sorry." She muttered sheepishly. "You just feel all . . . I don't know, weird. But not a bad weird, you know, it's just different . . . weird."
Danny floated up off the ground to prevent his friends from poking, prodding and rubbing him. "I'm gonna take a little stroll," he said with a grin. "I'll check in with you guys after I see Mr. Falluca."
The two human teenagers waved as Phantom flew away, using his new body to achieve speeds previously thought impossible to achieve.
It was dusk by the time Phantom had completed his day-o-fun in Amity Park. He had casually flown through the busy streets at nearly two hundred miles per hour before heading to the outskirts to see if his offensive capabilities had improved any. Much to his delight, and the destruction of several abandoned apartment complexes, he discovered that they had gotten even more powerful.
The ghost looked to the sky after the dust from the last destroyed complex had settled. The sun was almost completely gone from view with only small rays of light shining up over the horizon. Within minutes, the sun was completely gone from view and Phantom felt a strange sensation. He felt . . . stronger. As if the absence of light increased his already augmented powers even further. With a wicked smile, the shadowy specter flew towards the center of town.
Phantom reached another record-breaking speed record as he blasted through the streets. The ghost flew directly at the largest of the buildings in Amity Park and pulled into a vertical ascent barely millimeters before smacking into the wall. His velocity was not hampered as he climbed the wall and headed for the sky.
A blast of pink and a painful sizzling sensation kept him from his goal.
"It's too bad you pulled up down there," the Huntress said. "Now I'll have to introduce you to the corner of pay and back all the way up here."
"Oh, good one," Phantom spat. "What's next, your mom jokes?"
The Huntress screamed at the ghost and fired at it, managing to sink several shots into the ghoul's chest. Phantom fluttered back from the impacts as the bolts of energy tore through his body. The black substance that made up his new body stretched across the wounds almost as quickly as they appeared, acting faster than his original regenerative properties.
"Why'd you change your look, freak?" the Huntress said through clenched teeth. "I liked you better when you were a scrawny little punk."
Phantom dodged blasts as the Huntress gave chase. The two enemies flew through the inner city firing shots at the other drawing many eyes up to them.
"I don't care much for scrawny," the ghost shouted as he fired several powerful shots over his shoulder.
"I'll bet you won't care much for dead either!"
"Already tried it, thanks. Not sure how it works again, though."
The Huntress crouched on her board and grabbed a handle that stuck out of the surface of the device. With a pull, a sizable barrel attachment appeared in her hand. The young woman clipped it to her gun and took aim. Several resounding thumps echoed from the barrel of the new weapon and were accompanied by a small oval-shaped object. A semi-transparent black tip was built into each of the ecto-seeking grenades, and each one began to emit a faint light as they locked onto and tracked their target.
Phantom grabbed the first one to get too close, but it detonated in his hand before he could discard it. The explosion knocked him from his altitude and sent him hurtling to the ground. The ghost impacted the city street below, creating a large crater in his wake.
The Huntress hovered above the crash site and smiled as the remaining grenades shot down from the sky and slammed into the dusty crater. A long howl of pain cried out from the smoke as the grenades detonated. Then there was silence.
The Huntress maneuvered her board to leave the vicinity, but gasped as something clamped onto her sled. A massive black hand had latched onto one of the wings and was anchoring the device to the spot. Huge claws dug into the steel, stabbing through circuitry and engine systems in the process.
"You thought you could lose me so easily?" said the familiar voice. The Huntress noted that there was a strange, almost animalistic edge to his tone, as if something else was talking along with him. "You're going to have to try harder."
The girl's eyes widened as the dust was blown away by an oceanic breeze, revealing the battered and torn body of her adversary. The black creature was shredded and vaporized in several sections, revealing a large portion of the ghost underneath. The familiar face of the ghost boy looked out, only half was visible. The other half was still covered by the ectoplasmic goo. The tendrils of the black substance began to latch onto the exposed portions of the ghost boy before enveloping him completely. Phantom growled as he pulled himself up from the crater.
"What are you?" the Huntress whispered in fear.
Phantom lunged forward. His massive hand wrapped around the girl's waist and pulled her close. His lips parted to reveal the rows of pointed teeth that seemed to glare at the Huntress with their own hunger. The ghost smiled viciously.
"I am the thing you fear the most," he hissed. "I torture your every thought with my mere existence, you who hunt me so relentlessly. I enter your sleep and plague your dreams. You hate me beyond sensible detestation for reasons so primitive and base that they are savage in their very nature. But at the same time, you are infatuated with me. You cannot stop thinking about me. I am in your very soul, whether you like it or not. The thought of me excites you in ways nobody else ever could." The ghost chuckled, looking over the human girl in his hand. "I am the one thing you cannot comprehend and for that reason, you fear me."
Phantom used his free hand to rip the mask off of the Huntress' head. A look of shock and bewilderment exploded across his face before twisting into hate and contempt. "You," he growled. "You!"
Valerie stared at her captor with venom in her eyes. "What about me?"
Phantom's body shook, as if thousands of words were trying to force their way out of him at once. With an infuriated scream, the ghost threw the Huntress with all of his newfound strength. Valerie flew like a comet in the night sky, her momentum carrying her over the tops of fairly tall buildings. Her fatal descent was halted by the arrival of her glider, albeit damaged.
The Huntress maneuvered her vehicle away from the city. The ghost couldn't have been more wrong in his assumption. Valerie knew that Phantom was evil, if his recent actions hadn't provided enough evidence. Her hatred for him was fueled, and her desire for vengeance had never burned hotter.
Valerie grinned at the surface of her glider. Not only had she managed to escape from the loathsome specter with her life, but she managed to obtain a particular sample she was positive her supplier would be very pleased with. The glider, in one of its numerous holding slots, carried a vile of a black ectoplasmic substance . . .
Phantom discovered that he was on the outskirts of Amity Park and in front of Axion labs before he even knew what he was doing. He didn't remember flying there, and he distinctly remembered his plan to seek out Mr. Falluca outside his offices which were undoubtedly laden with high tech anti-ghost weaponry.
"Aw, to hell with it," Phantom muttered as he fazed through the multi-layered steel wall of the massive building. Inside, Phantom took his invisible state, but another thought surfaced from somewhere in his subconscious. Some place in his mind he wasn't entirely sure was his own . . .
With a moment of concentration, Phantom became nearly translucent, taking on a grayish hue. He had become a shadow. Compressing his form to a gaseous state, Phantom slithered through the building, snaking from one darkened corner to another, occasionally following along as the silhouette of an employee.
Phantom found it odd that his heightened senses fixed on the scent belonging to Mr. Falluca. The man never gave off any sort of musk that discernable. He never wore cologne, as far as Phantom knew, and the only recognizable smell was that of severely faded aftershave. Nothing spectacular.
The ghost proceeded anyway, determined to find the man. After several minutes of sneaking around, Phantom arrived outside a door. Compared to the rest of the building it was relatively simplistic and normal. It was wooden, although a silver finish made it look at least somewhat similar to the walls it was connected to. A small plaque was attached to the door at eye level for the average man. It read Professor Robert Falluca in Times New Roman font. Phantom cautiously fazed through the door having reformed his body and looked around.
The average looking door betrayed its contents, as the ghost observed. The room was enormous, to say the least. Dozens of shelves lined the walls filled to the brim with books and DVDs. Four lab tables dominated the center of the room, each one covered with an assortment of beakers and test tubes and other equipment Phantom was not familiar with. Strange machines sat on tables that jutted from the walls At the far end of the room sat a lonely wooden desk, this one in its natural mahogany shade. A desk lamp provided the occupant light. Said individual was sitting in a comfortable looking swivel chair, poring over several documents.
Phantom flew across the room and floated to a stop in front of Mr. Falluca's desk. The man glanced up from his papers briefly to acknowledge Phantom's presence before returning to his work.
"Can I help you?" the man said calmly without averting his gaze again.
"I sure hope so," Phantom replied.
The stout man at the desk looked up again. He placed his glasses on and allowed his eyes to focus before sliding his chair back with a frightened expression on his face.
"W-who are you?" he asked.
Phantom held up his hands. "Hey, hey, relax! I'm Phantom! Er, I mean, the ghost kid?"
Mr. Falluca stared at the ghost floating in front of him. He seemed to calm down a bit as he took in the spectacle floating on the other side of his desk. His gaze lingered on the logo that had appeared on his chest.
"Is it really, now?" the man said more to himself than Phantom. "Why the costume change?"
Phantom sighed with relief. "That's what I was hoping you could help me with."
"Is something wrong with it?"
"Well," the ghost rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Not wrong, exactly, but different. And I'm not sure if it's a good different or a bad different."
"Well, I can honestly say that I will probably be of little help. I specialize in designing weapons meant to kill you." The teacher noted that Phantom, while lacking feet, seemed to shift his weight from side to side, as if trying to find a comfortable position in a very uncomfortable situation. "But if you can explain what is different about it, I can do my best."
Phantom nodded. He was relieved to find the man was as ready to listen to him in his ghost form as he was in his human form. Perhaps the teacher could become his next confidant. Until then, he'd stick with the dual identities. Everyone else could deal with it.
"I'm normally not as aggressive. I had a bout with Huntress before I came here and I would have probably killed her if her little sled thingy hadn't saved her."
"Increased levels of aggressiveness are usually a bad sign with anything," the man said as he occasionally went back to checking papers on his desk. "Anything else obstreperous to your life as a hero?"
"Nothing ob-obstr . . . bad, but my abilities have been enhanced. Both as a ghost and as a hu-"
The hulking ghost clamped his hands over his mouth. His eyes widened and his face, with its few discernable features, expressed fear.
"As a what?" Mr. Falluca asked. "As a human?"
Phantom sighed. "I'd rather not get into it. For, uh, security purposes."
The man nodded. "So you're half ghost and half human? Interesting."
"Moving on," Phantom said irritably. "I'm pretty much stronger all around. My energy blasts are stronger, my physical strength has been, I guess the word is, augmented and my vocabulary has gotten a serious overhaul." Phantom recalled his little speech he gave to Valerie about why he thought she hunted him. "As did my word selection."
Mr. Falluca nodded. "So, while you may be more powerful in nearly every aspect of your being, you are more prone to aggression and violence?"
"I guess so."
"And this is a result of your costume change?"
Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'm not entirely sure, to be completely honest. I woke up today and, when I transformed, I looked like this."
"Interesting. Have you been prone to outbursts in the past?"
Phantom conjured up memories of previous battles. "Yes," he said solidly. "But it never was so easy before. Usually it only happens if I'm provoked or I get really angry, but now it feels like I could just fly off the handle at any little thing."
The man stood up from his desk and walked around it. "Is it possible that this metamorphosis is not simply making you more aggressive, but it's reinforcing your natural personality quirks?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well you said you have been provoked into acts of violence in the past. That means the anger was there to begin with then, but it just needed a little shove. Perhaps your body adapted to give you a constant shove to make you more effective and durable."
Phantom looked at the man sternly. So few words to pinpoint the complexity of his situation. Tucker was right; Mr. Falluca was a genius. "Do you think it has anything to do with this?" the ghost asked as he tugged at one of his tentacles that sprouted from his arm.
The man nodded slightly. "Perhaps." He retrieved a test tube from one of the lab tables along with a pair of forceps. "With your permission, I'd like to take a sample of your tissue. If nothing else, it can at least give me a bit of foresight into what it is you're dealing with."
Phantom held out his arm. The scientist quickly tore a small sample of the black substance that made up Phantom's skin. Mr. Falluca quickly placed it in the test tube and placed the cap to prevent the sample from seeping out.
"I'll get this sent to analysis as soon as possible. Um, when the results do come back, how am I to locate you?"
Phantom froze. He prevented his face from showing any traces of emotion as his mind reeled with thought. Mr. Falluca presented an interesting predicament. After several moments, the ghost turned to face the man. "Contact Samantha Manson. She is an associate of mine, along with Tucker Foley and Daniel Fenton. She'll know where to find me."
"Will do. I'll make sure you get some sort of answer from this, Phantom."
"Thank you Mr. Falluca."
"Call me Bob. I'm not a big fan of formalities."
Phantom quirked an eyebrow. A school teacher who didn't like the title Mr. attached to his name? Could'a fooled me, he thought.
Phantom turned intangible and flew up through the ceiling. With that out of the way, the ghost made for home. It had been a very long day and, despite the lack of any form of sleepiness, he needed rest. Thankful that his monstrous form gave way to his natural human appearance without any trouble, the boy sat down on his bed after entering his room. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers. A long weekend awaited him and Danny wanted to face it head on. His eyes fluttered shut, and the boy was asleep within minutes.
But the shadow was wide awake . . .
To Be Continued
A/N
Sorry that took so long, but I've been busy. I got the last few papers out of the way for the school year and, with the exception of one more, it's pretty much smooth sailing for me. Prom, however, might throw a small wrench in my production schedule. Nothing major, so don't fret.
It has come to my attention that Danny Phantom will be coming to an end starting in June with the debut of season 3. For this reason, I have decided to do an overhaul of season 2 for this story. It is an overhaul that is still in its planning stages, but it is being worked nonetheless. Most of season 2 was revenge schemes by angry villains from season one and we got, like, what, 3 new ghosts for our trouble? BORING. My reworking of season 2 will still feature those new ghosts, but in a very different light. Also, the order of the movies has been reversed. The one with Freakshow is going first, the Ultimate Enemy remake is still second and Reign Storm is last. This is essential to the plot, so don't complain and such. But I know you all better than that, so I know you won't complain.
Once again, I know this is similar to the Venon saga from Spider-Man, but it not a ripoff or anything. It is an homage to him for the third movie which comes out on the 4th of next month. GO SEE IT.
555 reviews! I want to thank all of you who are personally responsible, especially mushroomcloudslooklikebroccoli, Andrew Laplante, TDG3RD, Fulcon, HiddenAuthor, Celestial Maiden Sukira, Skye-chan, lord lazy pants, Musicallity, MissMeliss4251, The Halfa Wannabe, Sapphire Wolf Master, artbug and Halbringer of destruction.