A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this took so long, 3 year hiatus due to life and stuff lol. Anyway, here's long-awaited chapter three, with chapter four coming out next week! (Hopefully, but knowing me that will be 2018 lol)
Chapter Three: What Waits Below
Tucker Foley gave a small cheer when the final lock on the door before him undid itself. "And you guys said PDA's were useless." He said, a triumphant grin stretching his features. His two best friends rolled their eyes at that, but he pretended not to notice. Haters gonna hate.
It had been surprisingly easy, breaking into the Fentons' basement; Danny had snagged the key to the physical lock—the one his mother kept on her person along with those of the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle—at breakfast, and the electronic locks didn't really put up much of a fight. Then again, the dark-skinned boy mused smugly, it would have been impossible for anyone less than tech savvy; and Tucker was, by all means, a more than necessarily experienced hacker.
In any case, the ease of the feat had still surprised him—and from the glances exchanged among his fellows, Tucker knew he wasn't the only one.
"You know," Sam began, "for a super top-secret whatever, you'd think there'd be more than two layers of security."
Danny shrugged, looking for the most part unsurprised. "Well, these are my parents we're talking about, here. My mom might be so-thorough-it's-scary, but my dad…." He trailed off. Tucker didn't need to see the exasperated smile that followed to know what his friend was talking about.
It was no secret that Maddie Fenton was the more competent of the famous Fenton ghost-hunting duo; and, as far as Tucker was concerned, he was content to believe that the woman's own self-confidence kept them from installing any further barriers to their basement door. Judging from the narrowed glance Sam was giving said entrance, however, he and Danny might be the only ones.
"Well, what're we waiting for?" Tucker cried dramatically, humor coloring his tone. "Let's just go, already." From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam's slow, determined nod, and Danny's uneasy gulp.
"Right." Sam said. "Danny? You wanna lead the way?"
Tucker watched Danny's eyes grow a little too wide, and gave his friend an encouraging smile. Come on, man. Just a minute ago you were all smiles. It can't really be that bad, can it? He blinked, Danny's grim expression seeming to answer his unspoken thoughts.
Yes. Yes it can.
Danny stepped forward, mouth still set resolutely, and Tucker found himself uneasy for the first time since they'd concocted the whole scheme. What did Danny know that he wasn't telling them? Normally Tucker didn't pick up on these kinds of things, but his friend was just radiating discomfort; something was wrong, and he knew it, now. But it was too late to take it back, too late to regret their decision as they plunged, down into the cold, unforgiving darkness, a silent alarm signaling their intrusion behind them as soon as they had opened the door.
It was pitch black when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Not that Sam minded the darkness; she always did say she was a creature of the night.
No, the dark she was fine with; it was the cold that she couldn't stand. It reminded her of things that she really didn't want to think about—like a winter frost killing her garden or the chills up and down one's spine when a ghost was near.
She shivered.
And the smell. It hit them all in a wave of gross, stagnant, stale air that hadn't moved in decades, causing all three of them to gasp and cover their noses. It reminded her of the time her grandfather had been ill and dying, lying in the same bed and room for weeks before the end; the smell hadn't been as strong as this, but there was no mistaking the scent of death. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea, she thought, briefly, before shaking her head. I can't see a damn thing.
She told herself that this was why she, Tucker, and Danny were fumbling, groping about in the shadows for a light switch; she comforted herself with thoughts of irrational fears of ghosts-that-weren't-there due to her upbringing in Amity Park. Even as she breathed a sigh of relief upon feeling the firm reassurance of a switch beneath her chilled fingers, she told herself that nothing was hiding in the darkness.
"Guys, it's here, I found it."
She wanted to flick on the light because it was dark, she chided herself, and she needed to see; not because she could smell, feel, taste the presence of somethingburning and acrid that inspired nausea and just a hint of bone-chilling fear to curl in her stomach. No, none of that existed, it was just dark, and they needed light—her mind was playing tricks on her.
She would never admit to the feeling, deep in her gut, that there was something horribly, sickeningly off about the place they had entered.
"God, what is that smell?" She heard herself joke aloud.
"E-ectoplasm." Came a strangled whisper.
When her eyes finally adjusted to the flickering fluorescent lights, she looked around and froze, afraid for a moment before relaxing. Oh, she thought, mouth suddenly dry, that explains the stink.
The basement was obviously meant to be a lab of some sort; its floor, ceiling, and walls all seemed to be comprised of the same, harshly gleaming metal—probably ghost-proof, she thought—and the tables lining the walls all seemed to contain various tools. Sam could see all manner of weapons, dissection apparatuses, and vials upon vials filled with glowing, green fluid—all the remnants of what was supposed to be a long-forgotten trade of the Fenton family.
The ominously fresh stain on the examination table in the center of the room begged to differ.
Sam wrinkled her nose at the sight, disgust accompanied by the feeling of momentary relief in seeing that there were no live ghosts to deal with. "I thought your parents gave up ghost hunting?" When no one replied, Sam looked away to glance to her right, where she had last heard her friend's voice.
"Danny?" The boy looked, if possible, paler than usual. "What's wrong?" Luckily, her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever dark thoughts had arisen in his mind, and Danny blinked a few times before his color returned.
"Nothing." He murmured, shaking his head a little. "I just…thought I sensed a ghost." Sam raised a skeptical brow, but accepted the answer nonetheless. "And…I dunno, I guess they're still hunting, just outside of the GiW's influences…?"
Though his expression remained neutral, and purposefully so, Sam thought she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes at his next words. "I thought that they'd gotten past all that, and were only interested in ghosts for research now…."
She saw Tucker shift awkwardly out of the corner of her eye. "Your parents used to hate ghosts more than anyone, man. I mean, they used to rip them apart for the government, right? That kind of habit dies hard." This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as something in Danny's face twisted, and both Sam and Tucker were left feeling lost.
"Danny?" She called softly, edging towards him. She placed a cautious hand on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to bring him into a hug. "You okay?" He nodded, neutral expression back in place. She frowned. "I wouldn't worry too much, Danny. They're just ghosts; it's not like they can feel pain anyway." Her expression hardened. "All they know how to do is fight and destroy."
She didn't feel the way he tensed under her, didn't register the hurried way he shrugged her hand away. "Y-yeah." He said, laughing a little nervously. "You're right, Sam, I wasn't thinking."
She smiled, although she couldn't help the worry that rose up in her chest. She knew that Danny had always been somewhat more sympathetic to ghosts—and who wouldn't be, with a condition like his—but she didn't think the sight of something like this would disturb him so much. She worried that something else was going on, something just beneath the surface of that placid expression, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Tucker, on the other hand, seemed less concerned with Danny's reaction. He was too preoccupied with studying their surroundings to notice anything odd.
"Woah, dude! Look at those things! What do you think they do?" He exclaimed, gesturing at the table furthest from the door. A few dozen devices littered the table, an organized chaos of flashing lights and digital output. Most of the machines were crusted with the same goo filling the vials on the table closest to the door, but one device in particular—the smallest of the pile—stood out as almost completely covered in glistening green.
Sam sighed; of course Tuck would only be interested in the tech. Her eyes never left Danny, though, who had started to wander about the lab. She silently hoped that whatever he found would ease his mind.
Danny was studying the walls of the place, marveling at how clean they were compared to the tools and tables lining them. So many gadgets, most he could only guess at the purpose of. His eyes followed the seam in the middle of the wall, resting briefly on Tucker—who was busily examining the slimy machinery, fingers deterred only by the fresh ectoplasm coating it—and Sam, and finally coming to what appeared to be a sealed door on the far side of the room. His throat felt dry again, like it had when he'd smelled the ectoplasm in the room.
"I wonder what this button does?" Tucker exclaimed, reaching for the small, red button adorning an otherwise innocuous device.
Danny's ripped his widening gaze from the shining metal door. "Tuck, don't—"
Before either Danny or Sam could react, the sealed door began to open, harshly whining against its rusted metal, and swirling green mist filled the room. Danny gasped for breath; the mist pulled heavily on his chest, and he fell to his knees. He vaguely registered Sam calling his name.
"Danny!" She called, but before she could rush to his side, a deafening roar tore her eyes away from him. She and Tuck turned, as if in slow motion, to see a frightening beast clawing its way between the half-opened doors. Its eyes glowed green, and its ears pulled back aggressively. The beast snarled, revealing sharp canines within its black, grisly maw. "Tucker, let's—"
Danny watched in horror as the beast pushed its way through, knocking Sam and Tucker both to the ground. It roared again, brandishing its long claws and threatening to rip his friends to shreds. Sam and Tucker lay prone, knocked out from the fall. Danny tried to scream, yell, anything to distract the monster, but all that could escape his tightened throat was a cool blue mist.
Suddenly, the beast stopped, sniffing the air. Danny's heart leapt as it leveled its steely gaze on him. He still couldn't move, and he could feel himself start to shake as it approached. He gripped his chest Not now. He thought furiously. God, please, not now. He fell to the ground, facing the swirling green portal and the wolf-like creature.
As it drew closer, Danny could see that its black fur glowed green, and that its front paws were metal prosthetics. He shook more violently, able only to watch the beast watch him.
It touched him, surprisingly gentle, and spoke. "Kvietigxu, reĝido. Mi prizorgos ĉi kaj eliru el ĉi tie."
Danny's eyes widened; he could feel the pressure on his chest receding. "Don't." He managed to croak. He could hear the front door slam, coupled with yelling from upstairs.
The beast furrowed its brow, glancing from the entrance of the lab to Danny before sighing. "Mi reestos."
"Okay." Danny replied, watching as the creature leapt through the roof without damaging it. His eyes fell to the portal, musing at how well he understood the ghost just as his parents came rushing through the lab door. He felt like he was in his dream again.
His eyes slipped closed as his father brought a glowing needle to his chest.