Cirque Berserk

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8
Shadow Dwellers

There was something behind her, she could feel it. It wasn't a person, a person did not make the hairs on the back of her neck stand. A person did not make her stomach feel sick and her head spin. No, this was not a person; not human at all. Sam reminded herself that she was hovering twenty feet off the ground, too, so there was absolutely no way a human could be standing behind her, anyways.

There was only one choice left: a ghost.

Run, Her mind yelled, wildly. RUN!!

But Danny was still careening towards her at breakneck speed...

She could still see him, coming at her with that red ball of flames brightly aimed at her. If he could raise his hand a little bit, just an inch, he would be able to strike her in the heart. Maybe he was going to raise it once he was close enough to get a clean shot. These were the thoughts that rushed through her mind as Danny came closer and closer and closer.

The presence behind her had become more defined, almost engulfing her in a sphere of arctic cold. Her weapon was pointed in front of her and she could see a large shadow encase it within it's darkness. The tip of her ectoplasmic gun, which usually released a whisper of steam from the chemicals reaction inside it, seemed to frost over with ice.

"MOVE, IDIOT!" Danny shouted, suddenly in front of her, raising his ecto-blast for a strike. But he didn't strike her, to her dull surprise, rather he grabbed her and turned her intangible. The familiar tingle swept through her body as she became invisible; the tingle she used to enjoy feeling when they were younger, when everything was just black and white and she did not need to roam in these shades of gray as she did so much nowadays.

Danny shoved her behind him and, shockingly, she still floated despite being out of Danny's grip. But before these rushing thoughts could compute in her mind she was staring at it. The thing that had been behind her, revealing a nasty row of sharp teeth and a snake-like tongue, which whipped out this way and that.

A shadow.

But it wasn't like Johnny 13's shadow: large, dumb, and basically harmless. This shadow sent a shiver down her spine, dropped a cold bucket of water atop her head, and made her recoil in what seemed like fear. She tried to back away from the shadow, which grew wide and tall before her, baring teeth she could only see against the barren wall.

She could hear it hiss, the high and menacing hiss that promised pain and death if she got too close.

The instant Danny shot at it, though, it seemed to hurt. It growled viciously, and if it had eyes it would glare with vindictive hate, and vanished before her very eyes.

Sam flicked her eyes to her built-in Ghost Sensor.

It did not register.

Neither Danny nor the mysterious shadow ghost.

Danny lowered his hand and frowned. "Damn," he muttered, "got away again." He turned, his shoulder's slouched in disgruntlement, and asked her: "Are you okay?"

Sam was stumped for a moment before answering. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I am now." She looked at her hands, at the sharp outline her eyes could barely make out, indicating her temporary nonexistence from the world.

"Oh, sorry." Danny drew near and touched her, his hand cold and stiff, and she flinched away from his touch. But the simple tap breathed life back into her, made her skin regain feeling and her lungs accept air freely. Her hair came alive and rustled lightly with the wind and her hands felt suddenly freezing.

But her arm, the spot where Danny's fingertips had brushed, still burned with the dead touch.

"What was that?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"Oh, er, I sort of turned you invisible—"

"No!" Sam growled, "that thing! That shadow!"

"Oh. That." Danny laughed sheepishly. "Well, I honestly don't know," he confessed, scratching his head. "All I know is that most of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone fear it like crazy. I can't get a word out of them without one of them throwing a tantrum or going hysterical."

"Then it must be dangerous," Sam deduced, subtly touching her waist, where her belt seemed to be coming loose. She tried strapping it on tighter and couldn't help but to feel self-conscious when Danny looked at her with a cocked brow.

"Maybe," Danny conceded. "But the important question is: what is it doing here? Those shadows should only exist in the deepest part of the Ghost Zone; they shouldn't be roaming around freely in this realm..."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked, skeptical. "For all we know, they could have been around far longer than the both of us have! Perhaps they just come out during this time?" She checked her watch."It's going to be three am. Right now is the darkest time of the night."

"You could be right," Danny said, almost casually. "But I highly doubt they only come out during the night."

"Well, they are shadows."

"Exactly. They need a source of light," he pointed to the full moon, shining down upon them with it's milky light. "And they have most of it today of all days. The full moon."

Sam scowled. He was right... for once.

When had Danny gotten perception?

"Whatever." Sam grumped and turned her hovercraft around, allowing her back to face him. "Just don't get in my way again, Ghost."

"What the hell?!" she vaguely heard Danny yell at her retreating form. "A nice 'thank you' would be appreciated, you know!!"

She promptly flipped him the bird.

Bang, bang, bang.

There was a snore.

Bang, bang.

A groan sliced the silence and eventually a hand peeked out from the covered to turn on the lamp. A soft light illuminated the room, revealing one very displeased Tucker Foley.

"Someone better be dead," Tucker growled as he opened his eyes, staring at the digital clock that sat on his night table and read: three forty five. There was more banging and he resisted the urge to sigh as he slowly sat up and plucked on his glasses.

He slouched to the door and when he threw it open, came face-to-face with an ashen and wide-eyed Sam Manson. She pushed through him and stumbled to his couch, where she collapsed and smashed a pillow over her face within seconds.

"Sam?" Tucker asked, breaking the expanding silence. "Do you know what time is it?"

"Four in the morning," came her muffled reply. "I know."

"Then it better be important because I have a huge test tomorrow," he paused, "er, today. Later on. Anyways, why are you here?"

"It's Danny," she said, hearing him suck in a sharp breath. "I was patrolling the city like I usually do and I was about to go home, I heard some yelling... something attacked that person, Tucker, and it did not register in my Ghost Sensor."

"Huh?" Tucker's brows furrowed. "Whoa, whoa, rewind. Attack who?"

"That's not important," Sam said. "But that ghost didn't register on my sensor! Neither did Danny!"

"That's impossible, I personally designed that little piece of genius and I made sure to record all known ghost signatures! I even used Mr and Mrs. Fenton's data! There is no way you could not have—"

"But Danny and that shadow didn't register!" Sam insisted. "I checked, Tuck, and I didn't see anything. Not even a bump."

Tucker slowly sat down across from her, stumped. "That's strange," he replied after a while. "I can understand why Danny wouldn't show up, though."

Sam peeked from under her pillow, patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Danny is a special case," Tucker started. "He's a halfa – half ghost, half human – and his ghost signature changes with every new power spike he experiences."

"Power spike?" she asked carefully.

"It's just codename for new power or every time he grows stronger, which is a daily occurrence. Every time Danny masters a new power, his power jumps up dramatically. I've tried to add Danny to the new Ghost Sensor I've been making for you but every time he trains, his signature becomes blurry and eventually disappears from the screen altogether. I can only chalk it up to his training regiment. He's been trying to master his telepathy—"

"T-Telepathy!?" Sam stammered, sitting up in a hurry. "You mean... he can read minds?!"

Tucker stared at her seriously for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. Sam stared, displeased by his mocking laughter, and waited impatiently for him to stop laughing. But when he did, her mood only blackened. "Mind reading?! What're you afraid of, he'll catch you thinking things you shouldn't be thinking of?" he teased, barely dodging a pillow.

"Shut up, Tucker." Sam growled.

"Yeah, well, anyways," Tucker continued, wisely deciding to drop the subject at hand for another. "To keep Danny on your Ghost Sensor requires updating his profile almost daily and I find that to be a pain so he will never appear on your screen. The shadows, though... what do you mean by 'shadow' exactly?"

"It's exactly what it means," Sam said. "You can't see their form like the other ghosts we encounter. It seems as if you can only see them when light indirectly hits them, casting a shadow on the ground or against a wall," Sam thinned her lips, looking at her hands. "But... it's not right."

"What's not right?"

She crossed her arms against her chest, in an almost protective gesture. "Those shadows, somethings not right with them. They don't feel like normal ghosts... there's something truly evil about those things. But here's the part that doesn't add up: when Danny attacked them they backed off. It was as if they wanted to fight back but couldn't, as if..."

"... something was holding them back," Tucker finished for her, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. "You're right, that is weird."

"Yeah, and when I asked Danny what they were, he told me that many of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone were terrified of them. He told me that they dwelled in the deepest, darkest, parts of the Ghost Zone and almost everyone avoids them... for those things to be out here, in the human world, something must have happened to attract their attention."

"Well, it's already general knowledge that random rips in dimensions appear all over the world," Tucker said, sinking deeper into his chair. "Most of those rips gather here, in Amity Park, and they usually close up before we discover where they are. These rips open passages for all spectral entities to enter or exit from – it's fair game for all ghosts who happen to be in the area when the rip appears."

"So, what you're tying to say is that these shadow ghost things wizened up and decided to take a stroll out the rips?" Sam said, sarcasm dripping heavily off her words. "Brilliant, Tuck, I couldn't have said it better myself."

"It wouldn't be surprising if these shadow ghosts decided to wonder our world for a while," Tucker continued, as if Sam had never spoken. "But what is curious is, why now? These tears between worlds have been happening for as long as both worlds have existed, so why now?"

"I have a theory," Sam pipped, raising her hand to mock Tucker, who only rose a brow and nodded his head. She rolled her eyes and let her arm drop. "They've always been here."

"Impossible," Tucker dismissed before she could even continue.

"Why is it so impossible?!" Sam steamed, glaring daggers at the African American. "Look, how do we even know they haven't been strolling to and from worlds all this time?! They don't register on our technology so we have no evidence to support your argument."

"Neither can it support yours," Tucker shot back." But I highly doubt that those shadows have been going to and fro worlds – we would have gotten word of their appearances."

"True, but why? The citizens from Amity Park have already seen almost every ghost imaginable, why would this one be any more important?"

"Because you said you felt something evil from it, right? So, of course someone else—"

"Tucker, nearly everyone who spies ghosts screams bloody murder," Sam replied dryly.

Tucker scowled but relented. "Alright, so what ifthese shadow ghosts have been going to and fro worlds like you oh-so eloquently put." He crossed his arms. "Then what?"

"Then that means..." Sam glanced up at the clock in thought, watching as the second hand moved a fraction. "I'm not sure, perhaps they really are just like the rest of the ghosts we encounter. But just scarier?"

"But they can't be," Tucker persisted. "You just said that almost every ghost from the Ghost Zone fears them – there has to be a reason why and they're not too keen on telling us any time soon," Tucker blew a puff of air, miffed by the way they were going in circles.

"There's only one way to find out," Sam said slyly, after a second of thought. "I'm going to ask some of my supernatural friends!"

"Supernatural friends?" Tucker repeated, skeptically. "You have friends? Aside from Val, Star and I?"

She shot him a dirty look. "Thanks, Tucker. Real nice self-esteem boost right there."

"Fine," he sighed, rubbing his eyes warily. "Just, please, try to keep your visits at a reasonable time. It's going to be five in the morning! Ugh, I am so gonna' fail this exam..."

"You can do it, Tuck," Sam encouraged absentmindedly. "There hasn't been an exam yet that you haven't aced."

"Yeah, there hasn't, has there?" There was a swell of pride in his tone.

"Yup," Sam stood up and stretched her arms above her head. "Anyways, I'll ask Kitty if she knows anything about these mysterious 'shadow ghosts' before tomorrow night. See ya' later Tucker! Good luck on your test!" Sam was just about to walk out the door when her friends quiet statement stopped her in her tracks.

"So, you saw Danny, huh?"

"... Yeah, what about it?"

"What did he say to you?"

Sam cast her eyes downward, to the mat she was standing on. "Nothing. Nothing important. He didn't even know it was me."

"What? How?!"

Sam reached up and pressed the button on her helmet, initiating the switch that deployed the clean, sleek, glass across her eyes. Immediately, her gaze was met with the spiral of light and numbers that scrolled down one side of the glass; indicating the time, ghost activity, and any other data she would need during her patrols and even battles. The glass itself was tinted, dimming everything considerably.

She turned to Tucker, who was looking rather apprehensive at her silence, and said, "I guess he can't recognize an old friend, huh?"

"Sam, it's not—"

"No." She demanded. "Stop. I don't want to hear it." Her voice was like steel. "If Danny can't recognize me with this stupid helmet on then he was never really a friend in the first place. He never cared."

"You know that's not true," Tucker said, accusingly. "Sam, look, it's time to move on. You have to let go of this petty grudge you hold against—"

"Petty!?" Sam bellowed, spinning on her heel to send her friend a frigid glare. "Petty? You call seeing your best friend since preschool let you fall to your death petty? I cannot believe you just said that, Tucker! You saw him," she spat. "You saw him too and you saw how he just let us fall!"

"He was being controlled by Freak Show!"

"He was letting himself be controlled!" Sam shot back. "We both know that he could have broken free from his grasp at any time but he didn't!"

"Sam! Do you know how lunatic that sounds? Of course Danny couldn't break free because if he could don't you think he would have?" Tucker sounded desperate for her to understand how twisted her logic really was. How far she had let her lies get. "You're deluding yourself – Danny could not have, for the life in him, literally, broken free from his control!"

"He had the staff," Sam bit out. "He was in control of himself when it happened. But he chose that dumb... dumb stick instead of his best friends!"

Sam was already out the door by the time Tucker managed to run to the threshold. "Sam! Please see reason!"

"I am seeing reason!" Sam yelled back, stomping down the stairs of the apartment complex. "Danny left us for dead and he could care less for both of us! It was proven that day! I was stupid to ever even think he cared about us! Ever since the accident, ever since I convinced him to sneak into his parents lab, he's been different. He changed. I think you're the one who isn't seeing reason!" With that said, she clicked her heels together and let the board slip under her feet, allowing her to float into the lightening sky with Tucker's calls deaf on her ears.

When Danny managed to float back to his bedroom, tired and weary, he couldn't relieve the image of that ghost hunter from his mind. The way she held herself up was different and she was fearless while facing him. Despite the fact that half of her face was covered, Danny felt as if he recognized her from somewhere. His first thought had been Sam but he quickly brushed it away.

Everything reminded him of Sam nowadays.

His second thought was that Gothic girl that always visited his shows, even if he was five state lines away from her hometown. But he brushed that thought away too since she had been smaller, a bit chubbier, than this girl. This girl had the body of an athlete, thin but muscular, and she had a flatness in her tone that reminded him so heavily of Sam... but it couldn't be Sam. It just couldn't.

Her hair, it had been raven and he could have sworn he saw a streak of red in it when the moonlight hit it in a certain way. He could remember from his dreams that Sam had a streak of red in her hair, too. But it just couldn't be Sam.

His thought-structure continued like this for a while, even as he laid down in his bed and stared at the ceiling habitually.

They also all ended with the same sentence: it couldn't be Sam.

The sun peeked out from behind the mountainsides and filtered through his partially opened curtains as per usual. The light hit his forehead before slowly expanding and hitting his ominously glowing green eyes. The light hardly bothered him as he continued to stare at the slanted wall of the tent.

It was only thing that made him realize that perhaps that girl really had been Sam.

It was her fingernails, strangely enough.

The purple varnish had been chipped, her nails evenly sanded down and short.

But it had been purple, a particular shade of purple that most girls could not get their hands on for the life in them, considering Sam herself had specifically created that shade of purple once a upon a time ago. She had paid a lot of money for that shade.

And Danny had seen it on that woman's hands.

That was what made him shoot up from his bed, wide eyed and wearing a half-crazed grin.

"Sam?" he had choked, his hands slowly rising to grip his head. In one swift motion, he pulled his long bangs down and he let himself flop back onto the bed, groaning into his pillow. "Aw, damn it all to hell!"

There was a knock on his door.

"Master Danny, it is time for your daily training—"

"Not. Now." Danny grit, suffocating himself with his own pillow as Lydia peered into his room, furrowing her brows at her master's submissive position. It was unusual for her master to be so temperamental in the morning, usually he would resist for a while before giving in and waking up. But today it seemed as if her master had woken up with an even more violent mood than usual.

Lydia wondered what could have made her master react so viciously.

"But Master Danny.."

"Didn't you hear me?!" He snapped, throwing the pillow away and sending her a dark look. "I said, not now!"

Lydia flinched and Danny softened his glare, sitting up and stifling a sigh. Well, that went well, he thought dryly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you... I'm just in a really, really bad mood right now. Sorry. Really, I am." Danny pushed his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood, cracking his arms and shoulders. He hardly got a wink of sleep but he was sure that even if he canceled his morning's training, he was not going to sleep anyways.

It would be a while before he could sleep. And in his ghost form, sleep never came at all.

He quickly changed back into his human form and felt even more tired. He felt as if he were about to collapse from exhaustion. Upon second thought, he transformed back into his alter ego and felt his energy levels increase wildly.

He would be in this form for a while longer, it seemed.

"You look tired." Lydia voiced her quiet observation.

Danny offered a wary grin, making the female ghost gasp and look away in silent bashfulness.

"Yeah, you could say I didn't get enough sleep. Actually, you could say that I didn't sleep at all." He passed by her, oblivious to the spots of ghostly pink her cheeks turned to. "I could really use a cup of coffee right now..."

"I could make you one, if you would like," she offered, scurrying to keep up with his hurried pace.

"Really?" he smiled, widely. "That'd be great! Thanks!" He gave her a pat on the shoulder before steering right and heading towards the exit, where he would then walk to the grounds he reserved for training and start jogging with the rest of his crew.

Lydia stood very still in the middle of the hall.

She slowly rose her hand to her chest, pressing a palm against her breast in thought. She was sure that if she had a heart, if it could beat with the life that sustained all mortals, it would be beating very fast right now and very hard. Though her cheeks flushed with the ghost of a blush, Lydia was sure of one thing as she stared into the darkness where her master had walked into.

She had fallen in love with Danny Phantom.

A/N: Oh, noz. I am so evil. I shall tell you all that Lydia is a canon character from Danny Phantom. I believe she was Freak Shows subordinate-slash-mind slave or something. Any who! I didn't really bother to research her much so I am fuzzy if I even got her name right... I'm pretty positive I did, though. I know I haven't updated as frequently as I promised and it was partially from the Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood frenzy I let myself fall in.

Yes, I have fallen victim to another anime addiction. And no, I will not go to rehab lol. Let me drown in my Ed/Winry passion, damn it! Why does no one understand!? DD:

The next chapter is twenty percent done as of now! I've been feeling particularly moody lately, so that means I write for long hours before pausing and continuing. I think it has something to do with Spring, but that's just me...

REVIEW!!

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