Elsewhere

(Unfinished AU) – A story destined to never be completed. Unless someone else wants to delve into this world …

&

She was a princess, and she hated it.

Such a cliché, she thought to herself, pulling up her freshly dyed hair. Naturally somewhere between a fire-y red and soft blonde, it was rather conspicuous; a mix between the colors of the King and Queen of Amity, but now her hair was so black that blue highlights flashed in it. She smiled at herself; much better. She had dismissed her maids, finding them fair jobs far from the palace over the last month, and now no one she knew would suffer unduly from her plot.

She was fleeing the palace.

Samantha Victoria Manson supposed she was romanticizing the lifestyles of the peasants, but she had no illusions about living in the city. She loved nature. For years now she had longed to live someplace quiet in the countryside, perhaps as a farmer. She would find someone who would take her in as a hired hand and learn the trade. Then perhaps, one day, she would return, when her parents had grown to appreciate her personality. She would, after all, have to rule Amity someday, or she couldn't enact the changes she wanted to. She would bring Amity into a state of harmony, everyone helping each other and sharing with one another, a true paradise …

The princess' dreams were big, perhaps bigger than she realized, but at the moment, it was all she had. She couldn't stand living in this stifling, corrupting environment for even a moment longer. She had to flee tonight.

&

Amity was, despite its name, a small and relatively violent country. It was plagued by a unique problem; it was populated by ghosts. Many ghosts lived quietly amongst the people, and some, it was likely, never realized that their neighbor wasn't technically alive any more, but many more were violent and dangerous. These ghosts usually came from a neighboring country – Dalv – whose primary population was ghostly. As a result, the Royal Family had commissioned a small fleet of ghost hunters to help put a stop to the invasions.

Amongst these was a family of three, the Fentons. The parents were inventors primarily, but they specialized in trapping ghosts. Their daughter, Jasmine, was a somewhat pensive young woman who worried about head sicknesses and how ghosts affected the humans they inflicted themselves upon.

It was said that they had once had a son, but if they had, it was as if he had simply disappeared into thin air; the Fentons never spoke of him, and the boy was never seen. Perhaps, some whispered, he had died.

Perhaps, others suggested, he was a ghost.

&

"Hey, watch it!"

Samantha grunted as she was pushed aside by yet another person in the crowded streets. She had managed to simulate peasant clothing rather successfully, but now, wandering the streets of Amity Park (the capital of Amity), she felt lost. How did she get a ride out of the city? It was mid-fall; surely some farmer was going back to the countryside!

She had money, so that was no problem, but she didn't want to use it just yet. After all, it had to last her until she found a job, and that wouldn't necessarily be easy. She wanted to be at least somewhat realistic about her choices.

The umpteenth person that shoved against her shoulder, however, made her trip, and she fell on her bottom. She saw red. "Sir!" she snapped imperiously from her seat. "Have you ever heard of personal space?"

The man who had brushed against her raised an eyebrow. "Woman, you are pretty," he said slowly, "but you're not going to stop anyone in the middle of the street! Either move out of the way or let yourself be run over; the choice is yours!" And then he was gone.

"Doesn't even have the courtesy to help me up," she muttered furiously, starting to get up from the ground, when a hand was offered to her.

She took it in surprise, and was pulled effortlessly to her feet. "Thank you," she said in relief, turning to the gentleman who had helped her.

It was a boy, no older than herself – thin and identical to her in height. His eyes were a very intense blue – although that may have been simply because of the contrast with his hair, which was almost as black as her own. He didn't look well off, but he wasn't precisely starved, either; just thin. "Shouting in the streets won't help you much," he said, smiling and guiding her gently towards the side of the street. "Everyone's too wrapped up in their own troubles to pay much attention."

"I had noticed," Samantha remarked dryly. "Thank you for your courtesy."

The boy shrugged. "It was nothing. You looked lost; can I help you?"

"I'm not certain; do you know of anyone leaving the city for the countryside?" Sam asked.

The boy shook his head, another smile crossing his lips. "At this time of year, the crops have just come in! Everyone is rushing to sell their stock. Wait for another few weeks and you'll have your pick of rides."

A few weeks! Sam doubted she had that kind of time. Even now her parents were probably searching the palace frantically for their precious heiress. "I cannot wait that long," she sighed.

"Why not?" the boy asked.

"It is a long story." Samantha paused. "Is there some other way I can leave the city?"

"Money," the boy answered immediately. "Money greases a lot of palms." He smiled. "If you have enough of it, of course."

Sam found that a little distasteful; her parents certainly did enough of that! "Are you suggesting—" she began, but suddenly the crowd pressed back around them at a shout.

"Out of the way! The King's Guard!"

No less than ten riders wearing the King's colors came flying down the streets on horseback, armed with inventions that Sam found entirely too familiar. "Ghost trouble," she gasped, suddenly intensely curious. She had never seen a ghost before; she had only heard tales of the trouble they caused. "I want to follow them! Can you—" she began, turning back to the boy—

But he was gone, as if he had never been there.

&

Daniel Fenton was his parents' best kept secret.

The Fentons were famous for hunting down ghosts, but it was a little known fact that their own son numbered among them. He had died shortly after entering his fifteenth cycle1 in an accident while aiding his family with an invention, and since then, he had never been seen or heard from again. But the boy 'lived' on.

His parents knew, but understandably could never admit to it. It was the law of the land that no ghosts were to reside in Amity, and to admit to Daniel's continued existence would be to expel him from the country. Instead, his ghost had gained some small amount of infamy as the one ghost that always got away: the Phantom.

For his part, the Phantom helped his parents oust the ghosts that wreaked havoc in Amity. And if the Fentons got the credit, well, it wasn't as if Phantom was going to win any points with the King and Queen …

It was the Phantom that now followed the King's Guard invisibly, just beyond the range of their detection devices. He was intimately familiar with all their equipment, of course; his parents had built it all.

He flew almost lazily. The Guard couldn't move nearly as fast as the ghost could. His mind wandered back to the girl he had aided in the street.

So she's running away.

Daniel was familiar with the Princess, of course; he was often present when his parents presented new inventions to the Royal Family, and the Princess was almost always there, looking interested in the devices if not the proceedings. Her hair was black now, but it was unmistakably her; she was the only girl Daniel had ever seen with violet eyes.

She'd always seemed somewhat rebellious. Daniel couldn't honestly say he was surprised to find out she was fleeing the palace. He was sorry to see her go, but it wasn't his business; it wasn't like she knew him, and he barely knew her, and all that unfairly. Well, maybe it was technically his business in the sense that it was all of Amity's business if the sole heiress was running away, but heck, he was technically an outlaw. Outing her wouldn't do him any good.

The Guard turned a corner, and Phantom saw the offending ghost – a repeat offender if there ever was one, pinning a human to a wall with an ecto-web.

The Phantom turned visible abruptly. "Hey, Skulker!"

The Guard hadn't even had the chance to announce themselves when their invisible stalker appeared in midair. Skulker looked up, and his green eyes narrowed; this ghost was a hunter, and Phantom intrigued him as a rare specimen who helped humans openly. "You!"

"Me!?" Phantom cried, pressing a hand to his chest as if shocked by his own presence. "Why, yes, it IS me! What a surprise!"

"The Phantom!" cried one of the Guards, pointing. Skulker, however, floated upwards, his human prey forgotten.

"I thought you might show up," the hunter ghost said, completely ignoring the Guards. "I've brought some upgrades for you!" And with that, his shoulders opened up, firing ectoplasmically-powered rockets at Phantom.

The younger ghost yelped and fled skywards; for all his bravado, Skulker was a dangerous enemy. "Why don't you go back where you came from! So help me," Phantom called back, loop-de-looping over rooftops as the rockets detonated against each other.

"Hah! Not unless you're coming with me," Skulker mocked.

&

With the boy gone, Samantha desperately struggled through the crowds, seeking the Guard out. It was probably foolish to be anywhere near anyone who could recognize her face, but she didn't care; she wanted to see at least one ghost before she left Amity Park.

She got her wish. Suddenly, in a black and white flash something roared over the crowds, drawing all eyes to the sky. "Nyah nyah! Catch me if you can!" it shouted.

"You can't run forever!" A green and silver streak followed close behind the first.

"Skulker!?" exclaimed one commoner.

"And Phantom, looks like," added another, more dryly. "Take your fight someplace else, would you!?"

The first streak halted abruptly, letting the second one rocket past him. It also allowed Sam to get her first clear look at the ghost; his eyes were green, visible even from the significant distance, and his hair white. But the clothes … most of the commoner outfits were similar, but hadn't she just seen that shirt on—"As you wish, whoever said that!" called the ghost, drawing a chuckle from the speaker, and he shot off in another direction.

The second ghost performed a hairpin turn, pausing only briefly; Sam had the impression of flaming green hair and silver skin before the ghost snarled, "Oh no you don't!" and swooped down into the crowd, drawing abrupt screams.

Sam felt something wrap around her arm, and suddenly she was flying.

"Aah!" she couldn't help the shriek that issued from her. Supported from her wrist, she dangled in midair in front of the city populace in the grip of Skulker. "Come back here, Phantom, or I drop the girl!"

The other ghost, who had been flying away at a significant speed, halted in midair; his shoulders stiffened, and he turned slowly. "Come on," he scoffed, but his voice was a little weak. "Taking hostages isn't your style."

"You're running to the nearest ice field! Don't think for a second that you'll fool me," Skulker snarled.

Sam hung there for a long moment, too shocked to act, but she came back to herself after a while. As if I'm going to play the damsel in distress! "Get off me!" she shouted, kicking the ghost in the shin – and jamming her toe in the process. "Ow!" What was this ghost made out of, steel!?

"You really want me to, princess?" the ghost sneered, making Samantha forget the pain for a moment. Had the ghost guessed she was the--?

But no; it seemed Skulker was just using a figure of speech. "As you wish," he mocked both her and Phantom, and let go.

Sam fell.

She was too shocked to even make a noise for the second time within the minute, and then something streaked out of nowhere and caught her. "Gotcha!"

It was Phantom, and close-up, Sam suddenly realized how familiar he seemed. But she'd certainly never seen him before today …

Samantha barely had time to contemplate it, though. A net plummeted from the sky and over their bodies, trapping Sam against the ghost's cold body and causing Phantom to curse aloud before the momentum of the net carried them both sharply to the ground. Phantom took the brunt of the impact, grunting, but he quite suddenly was rolling over in the net, trapping Sam underneath him with his legs straddling her body. "Brace yourself!" he warned, and then something painful jolted through her body, making her cry out and see double for a moment.

When her vision cleared, Phantom was glowing above her, his green eyes practically on fire. The temperature around her dropped rapidly, and she shivered. "Skulker!" the ghost shouted, his voice enraged. "SKULKER!"

The net flew apart around them, sending the onlooking crowd skittering away. Phantom shot up from the ground in a fury, snarling, "I'm going to rip you apart molecule by molecule!"

"That's the fighting spirit I've been looking for," sneered the hunter ghost, bracing himself in midair.

Sam sat up slowly, getting to her feet as Phantom's fists glowed blue; he thrust them forward, and ice crystals slammed into the elder ghost. Skulker fired back with rockets and other things Sam had never before seen in her short lifetime. How exciting was this!? Maybe it was a little too first-hand, but in her whole life, Samantha had never been present for something so exciting. And this was nearly an everyday sort of occurrence for the townspeople? Maybe, Sam thought, she should revise her decision to live as far from the city as possible …

She never saw where it came from, but suddenly a blue-white jet of light issued from the ground somewhere, engulfing Skulker mid-fight. The ghost screamed his frustration: "Not again!" but whatever the light was, it consumed him, spiraling him downwards and out of sight.

"And that is my cue to go," Phantom gasped, looking winded. His shirt was tattered. "I, uh … 'bye," he finally said, and took off in a long arc over the sky.

To Sam's surprise, there was peppered applause throughout the streets.

She could only suppose it was for the Phantom.

1 Cycles are similar to our years, but they're counted differently. A newborn is 'in his first cycle', for instance, so someone 'just entering their fifteenth cycle' is someone who has just turned 14 years old.