A/N - nothing you recognize is mine XD

sorry again for the looooooong update time :'( one would think that at the end of the year there would be less schoolwork. oh, no. my school has to give us FIVE simultaneous projects to do before the end of the year.

btw, in case anyone cares, i got 97 per cent (A star) on my art exam :D yay!

anyway, on with the story...

Eleven

The sun had fallen hours ago, and the castle was silent – even though none of the inhabitants were asleep. In the kitchen a great number of the staff were just sitting around, tapping spoons on the table, inspecting the row of mugs hanging neatly from the cabinet, humming to themselves, or just staring at the opposite side of the room; as they had been doing for many hours.

Scattered all over the castle in various rooms further servants sat, lay, or stood silent as the graves they knew they were about to meet.

In the ballroom, slumped against the wall in the corner, Tucker and Valerie were curled up against each other. Though Valerie was not crying, her head was on Tucker's shoulder, and she hadn't seemed to have blinked in quite some time. Tucker was absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair, staring vacantly at the room before him. All traces of the ball of only a few weeks ago were long gone, and the room was once more merely a cavernous space with no particular purpose.

Jazz paced backwards and forwards past them, unable to sit and stay still. Although at first all of them had been running around desperately trying to think of some way to break the spell, not quite able to give up their hope, they had resigned themselves hours ago to just waiting – resigned themselves to their fate.

In the corner of the room, a clock gave them less than two hours to live – each tick shuddering down their spines and reminding them of what was so soon to come; not letting them forget it.

Only two people in the whole mansion were not with anyone else. Danny was up in his tower, as silent as he had been ever since Sam had departed from the castle.

They had all left him alone, unwilling or unable to face him.

And down at the front of the castle Kwan was in the Maroon Room, staring out of the window, through the gates and down the path leading away from the castle. He had grown very fond of their guest, more so than most of the other servants, and he had been one of the most affected when she had left. He refused to give up hope. And so he watched: waiting for her to return to them.

The others in the castle hadn't the heart to tell him that she was just not coming back.

His elbows were resting on the windowsill; his face as close as he could get it to the glass without his nose pressing against it. It was starting to rain outside; tiny dotted lines of water droplets beginning to appear on the glass. It made seeing even harder for him.

Suddenly he blinked. Once his eyes were reopened, and he was certain he had seen what he thought he had, he leapt out of his seat, his nose now crushed against the glass between his hands as he stared at the trail of fiery, bobbing lights ascending the path.

He yelped, knowing that that was definitely not Sam, and turned, sprinting from the room. He ran though the mansion and skidded into the ballroom. He spotted his targets and shot over to them, urgency fueling his speed.

"Jazz!" he shouted, only a few feet from her. His shoes skidded on the polished floor, and he fell awkwardly into the shorter woman's arms. She struggled under his weight while he struggled both with his words, and to get back his footing. "Someone's coming!"

Her baby blue eyes widened. "Sam?" She sounded so hopeful.

"No – lots of people. Dozens. With torches." He panted between words. "They're coming up the mountain! They're almost here!"

"Don't worry, Kwan," Jazz reassured, managing to maintain her calm façade to comfort the frightened man. "Go get the others and tell them to come here."

Kwan nodded and took off at full tilt. Tucker and Valerie had risen by this time, and were looking worriedly at the back of Jazz's head. When she turned, she looked just as afraid as they did.

"Who do you think it is?" Valerie asked nervously.

"I-I don't know. Could you go have a look, Tucker?"

Tucker nodded and ran off to the front of the mansion, Valerie, unwilling to be left behind, right on his heels. He threw open a window and squinted outside, while Valerie stood next to him and cupped her hands against the glass. The mob had reached the front gate, and some of them were rattling the lock. They could just about hear the sound over the intensifying rainfall. Tucker didn't recognize anyone – until he saw a grey-haired gentleman towards the side, looking crossly on at the men at the lock.

He looked very familiar.

"Is that…?"

"It is. We have to tell Jazz."

"It's Vlad – it's Vlad Masters!" Tucker shouted, rocketing through the ballroom doors, back to Jazz, who had now been joined by a great number of the castle staff, whispering nervously amongst themselves. Tucker's comment sent a new wave of frenzied chatter through them.

He and Valerie drew up beside Jazz, who looked shocked by his statement.

"What?"

"Yes!"

"Baron Masters? Whatever could he want here?!" Valerie snapped angrily.

"I never liked that man," Jazz murmured. "And I'll bet he isn't here to commiserate with us."

"So how do we get rid of him?" Valerie asked crossly.

"If it was just him…" Jazz petered off. Valerie's eyes widened.

"If it was just him, it would be easy. But he's brought all those humans with him – to distract us."

"Or keep us busy."

"He's planning something."

"What?"

"I don't know!" Valerie snapped at the man next to her. "But whatever it is – knowing that vile man, it won't be good. You should hear some of the things I overheard him saying to us servants, and even other guests back when we were…well, you know."

"Well we have to do something!"

"We'll fight them."

Tucker and Valerie both jerked their heads to face Jazz. "Are you serious?"

"None of us know how to fight!"

"We are ghosts after all – we have an advantage over them. And if we do die, it doesn't matter anyway."

That somber statement, especially coming from the usually cheerful Jazz, reminded the couple of what was impending, and their moods suddenly became very serious.

"If we're going to die anyway," Tucker said quietly, so the others in the room had no chance of hearing. "Why bother fighting him? What's the point?"

"Because we will not let him take us lying down. If this is our last night, it's time for us to make a last stand. What else could we be remembered for?"

Jazz's jaw was tensed, her normally glittering eyes hard and stoic. "Valerie, Tucker, can you tell everyone?"

"Oh, man! Why do we have to be the ones to tell them?"

"What are you going to be doing?"

Jazz was already moving away from the pair, and she ignored Tucker's whine, but turned to answer Valerie.

"Talking to Danny."

The stars were hidden behind a smudging of clouds – black and looming. The rain was falling fast now; the strange scent entering the turret room along with the droplets. The first few feet of the carpet was soaked and darkened, but as long the wet didn't reach him, he didn't care.

His head was turned as far away from the rose as he could get it. When he had looked up last – he had no idea how long ago it had been – there had been only two petals left on the rose.

And he knew that if he saw the very last petal clinging on, he might snap. He could hardly handle the thought.

His cloak was drawn tightly against his body – more for comfort than for protection against the cold, as he could not feel it. A wind was swirling through the room, billowing out the curtains and rattling the doors. The searing sound was racing through the room at the same time, whistling and whining and piercing.

But he didn't know about any of that.

His eyes were closed, and there in the light before him was a black-haired girl; her back turned to him. The sun was streaming down around her, making her hair and her skin glow a wonderful golden color. The feathery hairs swaying out from the top of her head were back lighted by the sun, and created a warm halo around her. A faint breeze picked up the tendrils of hair across her shoulders and framing her face, waving them casually from side to side. Her arms were gathered against her body, tight into her stomach, her back straight, and her chin up, as if she was staring out into the distance.

Her hand suddenly came out, reaching out to the side, her palm facing downwards and her fingers hanging loosely and carelessly. She turned her torso slowly, her hand coming round, until it was vaguely pointed at him.

Her palm suddenly flipped up, and she looked as though she was reaching out for him, begging her to join him, in a place where he could never go.

"Danny…"

Her head suddenly snapped around to him, and the golden light shining from her face blinded him.

His eyes broke open painfully, his previously dormant heart giving a strange thump once in his chest. He looked around the black room almost fitfully, vaguely noticing that the greenish glow his eyes usually elicited was not present, and that he could hardly see anything – having foregone the lighting of candles when dark had settled over Amity.

What was the point?

His eyes adjusted to the dark, and he rose from his corner, unconsciously stretching his cramped and long-unused muscles. He left his room, traipsing out onto his balcony, his black-booted feet squelching on the puddles gathering mournfully on the stone. He walked right to the edge, and wrapped his hands around the top of the short wall. Within moments his hair and clothing was sodden, water trickling down his face and neck, down into his shirt. He hardly noticed.

Below him, he noticed, with barely a start, there was a great group of people viciously going at the front gate with saws and hatchets, shouting and yelling, their sconces glowing fiercely in the dark night.

After establishing that she was not among them, he fell to just casually watching them destroy the gates.

His door was suddenly eased open, and then he heard his sister's light footsteps tapping across the floor, approaching him silently. He waited for his scolding.

But for once she said nothing, and he returned the favor. Neither spoke for a long while, the clanging of the gates and the loud shouts of the villagers quite audible below, along with the hissing of the streaming rain attacking the roof of the castle all around and below them.

She broke their silence. "I suppose you've seen them then."

He did not reply.

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

He did not reply for a long time.

"What is there to do?"

"Fight!" She sounded mildly shocked. "Fight them, Danny! Vlad is with them."

He contemplated that for a few moments, staring at the stone beneath his feet, before raising his head once more to watch them destroy his gates.

"I never did like that man."

Jazz was quite ready to scream at her brother. "How can you be so callous?! What's the matter with you?!"

"We're all going to die tonight. Why not sooner rather than later?"

Her mouth open, Jazz slipped backwards towards the doorway, shaking her head slightly, unable to break her eyes away from the tall frame of her little brother.

Or was he even that anymore?

She rounded the door, but stopped and leaned around it, her hands curled around the edge, her head leant round, eyes now downcast.

"I love you, Danny. So much. And I'm sorry you've ended up this way." Her voice was a raspy whisper, only just audible over the racket of outside. "But we are not going to roll over and let that man invade our home." She paused. "Danny…"

It was something of a plea, something of a sob, and something of a gasp.

He pursed his lips, and listened to her leave, his thoughts conflicting wildly with each other.

The armory – if the Fenton ancestors' collection of assorted and mismatched weapons could be called such – had been raided, and most of the ghosts in the castle had now been armed with various different kinds of swords, daggers, maces; and other things that they did not even recognize.

Jazz had already stressed that the idea was to scare the people away – and only to hurt them if completely necessary. However – Vlad?

Vlad they could kill, if possible.

Most of the ghosts were in the main entrance hall, set up in four defense lines, watching over the front double doors; though some of the ghosts were scattered at the other entrances to the castle, just in case. Several were sitting on the stairs, weapons cradled against them, in preparation for any who made it past the first line.

There was no time to set up and use the fortifications and defenses built into the castle.

A metallic smash suddenly sounded outside. Everyone leapt up, tensing at the sound of the gates either crashing open or crashing over. Frenzied shouts could now be heard in the courtyard, and everyone's hands tightened around their weapons.

The first crack sounded, the noise booming violently through the hall and shaking dust from the rafters high over their heads.

They were trying to break down the front door.

"Remember!" Jazz's voice rang out in the great hallway.

She turned from her place in the center of the foremost line of ghosts, twisting around to face her men. Senses of propriety had understandably diminished over the years, and all were just fellow victims of the curse. Jazz was no longer their mistress – she was their leader. And to her, the people she had lived with for so long and survived with for so long were her family as surely as Danny had once been.

"We only need to scare them away! We can win this, for Danny – and for Sam!"

They all cheered loudly, and Tucker smiled encouragingly at her. Valerie slipped her hand into his, and the trio stared at the door from their positions right before it, shuddering now with each blow the people outside made to the old wood. Jazz turned around again to reface the door, her rapier held ready at her hip, her face set, and her body tensed.

Boom…

The metal reinforcements on the inside of the doors creaked and bent slightly in the middle. The people outside were cheering violently now.

Boom…

The wood splintered in the center where they were obviously hitting it with a battering ram of some kind.

Jazz looked over at Tucker, then at Valerie, who both nodded.

"Now!"

Boom!

The doors gave in, flying backwards and clattering against the stone floor. The people all cheered and poured in; waving what were now recognizable as all manner of dangerous weaponry – from swords to wooden clubs to farmers' scythes.

However, they all stopped dead when they saw all the floating weapons around them. Swords, maces, knives, daggers – even just hunks of metal were hanging in midair. They slowly walked through them in complete silence, the tapping of their feet the only sound in the whole mansion.

Dash's brows were drawn together, his hand tightening around Philip Manson's sword. He walked over to a broadsword hovering just before him, staring at it in a strange blend of fear and curiosity. He brought up his hand to it.

The moment his finger touched it, it suddenly swung round and the broad side of it collided with his skull. His head swirled, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Now!" Jazz shouted again, her voice ringing through the halls, and all the ghosts became visible, much to the horror of their unwanted guests. And, to their further dismay, they began to fight with them. Villagers sparred with ghosts all over the hallway, darting backwards and forwards and knocking into each other clumsily, their swords clashing and ringing in the cavernous hall. Neither group had any actual fighting skills, and it made for a haphazard and dangerous battle.

Tucker swung his sword randomly, his eyes tightly shut: hoping to God that he did not hit a ghost.

He, of course, was the only one who had not thought to go intangible.

His sword definitely connected with something, and he cracked open an eye to see that it had in fact been a very large human, who had now fallen to the floor and was scooting away from the maniacal ghost, clutching his shoulder, then running at full tilt for the splintered remains of the doorway.

Valerie was faring much better. She had fallen into a rhythm, and had beaten several humans already, cunningly driving them back towards the door. She had learned to use both her own weight and the human's against them, turning tangible periodically to throw one over her shoulder. She grinned, enjoying herself in a strange way.

She watched her last conquest sprinting as fast as possible with the damage she had done to his leg to the door, and then looked up just in time to see a swiping broadsword headed straight for Tucker's back. She gasped and shot over, dodging the dozens of ghosts and humans hacking at each other. She cursed how far apart their fighting and moving had taken them, quickening. She reached him at top speed, her arms held out, and pushed the ridiculous ghost to the ground just in time, the sword swishing past heavily over them. She flung her sword in an arc, knocking the man off of his feet.

She turned her attention back to Tucker.

"Go intangible you moron!" she hissed.

He grinned sheepishly, and kissed her cheek, before scrambling up once more. She shook her head again and stood also, hurtling right back into the battle.

Jazz was doing more of a whirling dance than any actual fighting. She had hit only one person, and completely by accident. She had to restrain herself from apologizing and growled at him instead, sending him running for the door. She beamed with happiness at having actually scared someone, then continued on swirling her rapier madly about her. She caught one man across the cheek with the very tip of the blade, and gasped as a maroon line appeared and started bleeding.

The man yelped, clutching his face, and tears welled in his eyes. His sword fell to the ground. She scoffed at him. Even she would not have cried at such a tiny hurt. She planted her foot in the middle of his chest, careful not to lift her skirts too much, and shoved him backwards towards the door.

She picked up his sword, and held it in one hand, her rapier in the other, ready in a fighting stance. She suddenly looked down, and realised what the was doing. She frowned at the two swords, then laughed. This isn't gonna happen.

"Valerie!"

She tossed the broadsword to her friend, pleased to note that it landed pommel down in Valerie's speedily outreached hand instead of the other way around. Valerie grinned at her, then rushed at the three men attacking Kwan; both swords flashing and twirling madly in her hands.

Most of the men had now been driven out, and only the most stubborn, brave – and stupid ones remained. The ratio of ghosts for humans was almost equal now, and Jazz knew they had all but won.

She didn't want to think about how pointless it had all been.

In all the clanging and flurry of the battle, nobody had noticed a single dark-haired man slipping into one of the side halls.

Breathless (as always), and having just chased another man out of the castle, Jazz turned to the room, watching her men and women fight with pride. But her face suddenly fell, and she froze.

Someone was missing.

"Where's Vlad?"

It was completely silent. Unable to move, she strained her ears for any sound, but she could hear none. Eventually she was able to pry open her eyes, but all she could see was blackness.

She wriggled her fingers, pleased to find out that she still could, but had to stop when the vicious pain in her arm flared up again. She winced and cringed, her whole body curling up on itself against the agony. She wrenched the arm in against her stomach and cradled it there protectively.

Once the pain had begun to ebb, she decided it was safe once more to open her eyes. She was in the basement.

In the basement? Why on Earth…

And then she remembered.

"Danny!"

She leapt to her feet, ignoring this time the screaming protests of her body, and darted up the stairs. Using her good hand, she rattled the doorknob, but was not surprised to find it locked. She shoved her shoulder against it, noticing with vague worry that there was a terrible pain in that also.

In fact, her whole body felt like she had had a house fall on her. I guess that's what happens when you're thrown down the stairs, she thought angrily. I have to get out of here! I have to go help Danny!

She turned around, and for the first time spotted her father on the floor next to where she had been. She walked slowly back down to him, and knelt on the floor. She pressed her fingers lightly against his neck, feeling a strong, albeit slow, pulse. Satisfied, she sat back on her heels and looked around.

The basement was underground, so there were no other doors. The one door there was was locked and far too sturdy for her to break down – especially injured as she was now. She couldn't see any other way out.

Falling fully to the floor, sitting sideways on her feet, she fought desperation. Her fingers unconsciously went to the necklace at her throat. She cradled the rose between her fingers, tracing the curving petals fondly with her forefinger. She recalled what Danny had said about it. It was a strange coincidence.

Right?

She moved her fingers to open it, but as usual could not. She had never thought too much of it. But now, in the dark, locked up in the dirty dark basement, desperation threatening to close in – it really aggravated her. It seemed so much worse now – that the locket wouldn't open. She fiddled some more with the lock on the rose, but to no avail.

"Just open!" she shouted furiously. She wrestled with the clasp, desperately trying to wrench it open, not worried at all about snapping off her nails, or even snapping the locket.

But nothing happened.

She fell forwards onto her stomach – and winced in pain when something crushed against her hipbone. She reached her hand down and pulled out the beautiful crystal Danny had made. She held it in her hand, fighting back the tears that were threatening to well up in her eyes. In the dark the rainbows of colors shimmering within it were gone, and it just looked like a perfectly rounded piece of glass, clutched there in her hand like a lifeline.

Suddenly the room grew brighter. She looked around in shock, her eyes wide, at the white-green light illuminating the dank space.

"What the–"

And then she realized that the light was coming from the locket. She looked down at it in shock, then held it once more between her fingers, the crystal in the other hand. It glowed brighter.

Frowning, she drew it away from the crystal, and the light dimmed, and it brightened again when she brought them closer again. Her eyes widened. What's going on?

Then suddenly, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, she brought her right hand, still holding the crystal, towards the locket, until they were touching. The light shining out from the locket was almost too bright for her to look at, and she cried out as it engulfed her.

The shimmering white-green light shining from the Manson home on the hill had not been seen in Amity for almost exactly one hundred years.

slightly shorter than usual, but...

please review!!!!!

FunkyFish1991