"Chains."
Danny was hurt. He could plainly tell by the glowing green that clouded his vision, making him snap his eyes shut. And yet, Danny felt as though everything had become clearer, as though the universe itself would be at his very fingertips if only he could move them. Yet, he could not move another inch, in fear that the bones in his arms would shatter from the stress. And so Danny retreated, back into the corner he'd woken up in.
Danny put his back against the wall and pulled every part of himself closer to his chest. He felt as though as long as he didn't fall apart, he would be okay. Ahead of Danny was a key, on a key ring. It taunted him. It would be the only key to releasing himself from the shackles that weighed him down as though he were a balloon that wanted to float to the surface but was held in place. Danny had no idea how long he had been in the blank, white room.
All he could remember was flying, then a flash of green, and darkness. Consuming darkness. Then pain, a pain in his side that would not go away. Danny stared down at his hands. They looked melted, and, in fact, they were, somehow, Danny's ghost form was dissolving. He had become unstable. he would have changed back to Fenton, but a small, menacing camera stared down at him from its mount. He had wondered if it was worth the risk, but he couldn't. Whoever had taken him had every intention to harm him, as Danny could plainly see by the trail of green that lied beneath him. But Danny had no choice anymore.
He was rapidly feeling his ghost body giving up, giving in. But his human body would not. He had a feeling in his ever-present human heart that his birth body would be able to save him. If only there wasn't that darn camera. But Danny thought; maybe he could fix that. So he managed to pull his hand into form and shot a blast of frost. It missed, and Danny's effort was punished by him feeling his deterioration quicken ten-fold. He could now barely hold himself together at all. He had to change. And so, Danny prepared himself. Only to not need it anymore.
Now, Danny was sitting on his bedroom floor. In his hand, was a bottle that looked like something straight from the far frozen. Danny grasped at the cork and dumped the contents into his mouth. He instantly felt replenished. He could again feel his veins and the ectoplasm that safely flowed through them. Danny's knees felt wobbly as he stood. A flash of white light and he felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest. Danny plopped down onto his bed and almost passed out when he noticed a piece of black paper with white, almost glowing ink that made up the words it aimed to tell. But Danny never got to see them. He fell asleep before he had the chance to read it. But the next afternoon, he noticed. The letter, in old script, said; "All is as it should be. Good luck."