Edited February 2008

Pits
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

Interlude: Treasures

Left forgotten under the cot, the notebook fluttered open under a ghostly breeze as Walker slammed the cell door shut and advanced towards his latest prisoner. Huddled on the thin blankets of the cot, the young woman was screaming and praying. The words on the page - written with a neat, prefect type - were easy to read, even in the darkness of its hiding space. The loose page fluttered as Walker unknowingly kicked the book farther back into the shadows...
My claws clicked lightly on the stone floor as I raced through the darkened hallways. In many ways, the Pits are like the great Roman Coliseum, not just in function – but also in form. The rounded pits are at the top surrounded by stadium bleachers, and the rows and rows of prisoner's cells wound their way underground like a giant ant colony. I skittered up a shadowed stairway and found myself on the employee's floor; above the frozen prisoner's quarters, but not yet into the relative warmth of the pits.

Although better lit and decorated, this entire wing of the Pits complex still made shivers run up my spine. I sniffed the air, making sure the occupants were safely asleep before scampering lightly down the hallway. L'Jai, you are a freaking genius, I commended, grinning with delight.

Hesitating before an unmarked doorway, I cocked my head, listening. Distantly, I could hear sobs and wracking crying. Just for a moment I paused, curling my chill tail around my feet, my head bowed. A mere twenty-one years old, and already the young man was dying. Hopefully my plan would do something to help the boy. I sighed and shook my head. Wasn't it just yesterday that the boy had been dragged here? Human lives are just so short.

Dragging my mind back to the present, I continued my rapid stalking down the corridor. The chambers I was searching for was still one floor up. Creeping up carpeted stairs, I froze every few steps, listening intently, looking around.

The warden wasn't supposed to be in his rooms tonight; he was scheduled to be working at the prisons. Without the warden, hopefully there would be few guards. Carefully crouching at the top of the stairs, I gazed down the arrogantly decorated hallway with my sapphire eyes, barely able to reign in a snort of disgust.

Gold foil covered every decoration and column from pedestal to capital, gleaming gems and exotic jewels encrusted platinum and gold baubles and doodads, delicate mother of pearl flowers sprouted out of intricate vases. Elaborate paintings hung from the walls; no doubt each one was priceless – and stolen. I crept down the hall, trying to ignore the plush carpet under my feet. How many souls had to pay for this to happen? I wondered as I slipped beneath an ancient smelling chair. It's revolting.

Finally I reached the gilded doors which lead to Walker's 'estate.' I gazed up at them with a barely repressed sigh, letting my eyes drift over the simple, ancient designs etched into the door. The dark wood was beautiful and warm where it came up against the soft, reddish gold of the runes. For a moment my mind drifted back to when the entire place was as understated and simple as these untouched relics of the past. Uncomplicated tile work, colorful frescos, modest splendor…

Digging my claws into the thick carpet, I yanked my thoughts out of the past once again. That palace vanished long ago. With the true rulers gone, the city was left to crumble. The Pits were left to flourish. Walker was left to rule in his ostentatious way. And me? I was just left…

The small snarl that was snaking out of my throat startled me. I forced it back, glancing around to make sure no random guards had heard. Walking up to press my nose against the ebony wood, I breathed in the waxy, flowery, sweet smells of the door. Not a single wisp of contamination. Perfect!

While getting out of the room wouldn't be a problem once I had Walker's little treasure, getting in had taken some careful plotting on my part and it was all falling into place. The whole, convoluted plan revolved around one small weakness Walker obviously didn't know he had: the door itself.

Gazing up at the simple, gleaming traceries of gold against the soft wood, I couldn't hold back my grin anymore. Taking one last look around for guards, I settled down on the floor, curling my tail neatly around my feet, and closed my glowing eyes. The ancient door hadn't been tampered with, so I'd still be able to get through. But not as a rat; I'd have to go in as myself.

It had been so long since I had walked around in my true form, I wasn't really sure if I could even do it anymore. Breathing slowly, carefully, focusing deeply, I struggled to find that place inside of myself that was a bit more human than rodent. My fur began to tingle, my tail twitching unconsciously. Claws dug deep into the carpet, sharp teeth clenching at the painful stinging that was enveloping my mind.

Slowly, agonizingly, time passed. Nails that used to be able to find purchase in the rug were growing blunt. My body ached and groaned as it grew and stretched, the tail and dark fur vanishing. A seeming eternity later, I was sitting, crouched, on the ground. Panting, I raised one hand up in front of my face, squinting through the sudden darkness that surrounded me. Five human-like fingers attached to a pale arm.

Chunks of my longish hair dangled in my face, tickling my nose. Even though exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm my mind, I pushed the human hand through the black hair on my head, carefully tucking the light blue streaks behind my ears. Then I staggered to my feet, dizzy at the sudden head rush. "Slow down," I hissed sourly, leaning heavily against the door. "You haven't stood up in a hundred years, idiot."

I waited, my mind adjusting to the fact that my head was more than a few inches above the floor. Taking a deep breath, I reached out, wrapped my fingers around door handle. A soft click echoed through the darkened corridor and my grin grew. Pushing open the now unlocked door, I walked slowly into the room. I love these unlocking doors! I laughed in my head.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I glanced around the suite of rooms that Walker called 'home.' The grandiose feel of the hallway continued in this room. Gold and silver flecked marble, pearlescent accents, thick silks and rich colors. The opulence was suffocating, everything so dark and perfect. I took a few steps into the room, glancing around in disbelief. The last time I had been in here, just before the Falling, the place had conveyed a subtle elegance – an open, bright feeling. A happy place. But now…

A movement out of the corner of my eye made me twist, unconsciously baring my teeth and holding out my fingers like they still had claws, tense and ready to fight. However, all I could do was grin sheepishly at my reflection and I straighten. "That's so cliché," I whispered. "Stupid mirror."

Pushing my hand through my shoulder-length hair once more, getting it back out of my eyes, I studied my reflection as a bit of surprise tickled by mind. I was several thousand years old – yet the young man gazing out of the mirror didn't seem more than twenty. Simple, white, sleeveless robes fell down to my knees, belted over neutral pants and shirt. My bright, sapphire eyes sparkled in the dim light. I snickered softly. "Just give me a mop and a bucket and you'd never be able to tell any time had passed."

Something moved out at the end of the hallway, and I very quietly pushed the door shut. It was most likely the brainless guards making their rounds, not really anything to worry about, but it jerked me back to reality. I needed to find Walker's treasure before I got caught.

I picked my way around the room, poking my fingers into pots and small boxes. "If I were Walker, where would I hide my most precious possession?" Wandering into one of the side rooms, I forced myself to ignore the repulsive lavishness of the room. "Something powerful, something so key to his rule..."

Continuing to muse aloud, I slid from room to room, unable to find what I was looking for. Frustration began to work into my mind. Walker never brings it out of the Pits. He leaves it here, that much I know. But where did he HIDE the stupid thing?

Finally I ended up in Walker's bed room. The giant, canopy bed was covered in blood-red silk. Slowly running my hand over the soft, chill blanket, I couldn't help the shiver that raced up my spine. "On the one hand, it's so hard to see Walker being the kind of spirit who would indulge in this kind of stuff." I cocked my head to the side, gazing around the room. "On the other hand," I added sourly, my eyes taking in the gory, tortured scenes on the wall and the various bloody shades of crimson on every surface, "yeah, this is him in a nutshell."

"So," I continued, tearing my disgusted eyes away from a particularly… sensual blood-splattered scene, "if I was addicted to gore and terror and such, where would I keep a blood covered treasure?"

Completely against my will, my eyes drifted back to that horrifying scene. Then I spun around, gazing back at the bed. With a derisive snort, I knelt down and started to poke around under the bed. "Well, if blood and guts is your thing, you'd probably keep in by your bed someplace, right?"

Striking out on the bed idea, I dropped onto the sheets and scowled. All this work…

Crossing my legs, I sighed, propping my head on my hands. "Where haven't I looked?" I wondered softly. My mind trailed back to the hybrid that was sitting in his cell right now, shivering. "The boy has treasures…" I trailed off, thinking. "Maybe…"

With a look of disgust, I grabbed Walker's feather pillows and tossed them onto the ground. Sitting there, cushioned by expensive silken fabrics, was the bloody treasure I'd been looking for. "That is just gross, Walker," I moaned. "You sleep with the thing?"

I picked it up between two fingers, grimacing at the slimy feel, and then hurried out of the room. Hesitating just on this side of the ancient doors, I listened for the guards. When only silence met my questing ears, I pushed the door open and slid out into the hallway. My sandaled feet whispered against the soft rugs and pattered down the stone stairs.

Pausing for a dangerous moment outside of a certain door, I listened for the soft crying that I had heard before. Smiling softly when I realized that the young man had finally fallen asleep, I hurried on my way. This was the most dangerous part of this plan. If I were seen, I won't be able to use the excuse of just being some rodent wandering a deserted hallway.

But nothing slowed my way as I raced through the deserted, darkened hallways. Skidding to a stop outside of room 143, I hesitated for a moment, looking around. Then I reached out with the hand that held Walker's bloody possession, touching the sharp, metal point to the door. The heavy lock clanked loudly and I quickly pushed the door open, anxious to be out of the hallway.

The boy was asleep on his cot, not having noticed his door open and shut. I dropped the treasure to the floor, reaching over to pull the blanket tighter around the hybrid's shoulders. Sweat dripped from his reddened forehead. Carefully I placed my hand against his forehead, flinching at the overly warm feeling.

Letting my human form dissolve away, I twitched my tail and licked my whiskers, thinking. The boy getting sick was not part of the plan – that could throw everything off. I should have expected it with the freezing temperatures, lack of proper food, and the exposure to all sorts of blood. Scowling at this unanticipated twist, I pushed the now-heavy treasure deeper under the cot.

If he died in his next fight because he was too sick to move, my carefully woven plan would shatter like a glass ball dropped from the roof. I may as well not have gone through the trouble of stealing this bloody thing if he's just going to die on me. Something would need to be done. I hesitated when the sharp point of the treasure pressed into the solid walls of the corner.

Slowly, a plan formed in my head. I waited, ears twitching, until it solidified the rest of the way. That just might work…

Grinning in delight, I curled up under the cot for a moment, my tail resting on the treasure. Perfect. Then, with a chuckle directed towards the sleeping boy above me, I headed through the space between the walls, dragging Walker's most treasured possession behind me. He has got no idea what he's in for.

The mirror was glittering darkly before my eyes. I drummed my claws with metallic little clinks against Walker's treasure. While normally I would have been ecstatic about the lack of images filing before my eyes, the complete lack-there-of at this exact moment was driving me nuts. "What, is there no angst in the world?" I snapped sourly, fiddling with the controls.

Light one, nothing. Light two, nada. Light three, static. For a second I waited, hoping that maybe an image would reveal itself, but nothing. I was twiddling the knob to move from light seven to light eight when an image flickered across the screen. I held perfectly still, my nose twitching in impatience.

The picture wavered again, a kitchen spinning into existence for a heartbeat. "It's there," I breathed, fine tuning the controls with tiny movements. "Come on, please…"

"Jazz…" the word whispered in the air around me, thick with static.

I grinned, tapping the controls a bit more. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, the image appeared on the screen. I squinted at the fuzzy image, scuttling backwards a few feet to try and make it easier to see. "Oh come on," I hissed when I still couldn't make out what it was. There was a blue blob sitting next to a brown blob with a smallish black and blue blob moving back and forth across the screen. "Get angry, get depressed, get something. Help me out here."

"Mom… crackle …to you."

Suddenly the image jumped into crystal clear view. I jumped, almost knocking the controls out of alignment. Still blinking in surprise, I gazed up at the view. The bluish blob was a middle-aged human woman sitting at a kitchen table, the black-blue blob was a young woman pacing back and forth. "Wow," I whispered, sitting up to watch the show, "emotions are really flowing now."

"About what, Sweetie?" the woman was saying, glancing up from the table. The table looked like it was strew with papers. I wanted to zoom in to see what they were, but I didn't dare touch the controls. The fact that I was getting any picture at all was a miracle; ghost lights are not made to be outside of the Pits.

"About Danny." My ears twitched. These people were… the hybrid's family?

The mother was silent, her hands moving over the table, picking up the small, oddly shaped pieces of paper and setting them back down. The only sounds I could hear was the static's crackling.

"Danny had a secret… crackle… afraid. I need to tell you." The girls' voice didn't quite match the movements of her mouth. I leaned closer. The boy has a secret?

"Do you know where he is, Jazz?"

The girl – Jazz – was shaking her head. The image flickered dangerously for a moment before settling back down. "No, not for sure. Crackle… maybe this will help."

"It's Danny's secret… crackle… tell us when he gets home."

Jazz stormed across the kitchen and slammed her hands against the table. "Mom, he's not coming not on his own! He would have by now. Stop that."

"He'll come home." She stared down at the table, picking at the edges of a large piece of paper. "He's coming home."

As the crackling silence filled the air, I twitched my tail in frustration. "What are you looking at?" I wondered sourly, getting up the nerve to actually touch the controls. I zoomed in on the paper, annoyed when it became obvious that the paper was actually upside down and no amount of work on my part would reveal what it was.

"Mom," the girl said, plopping down into the chair as I let the image fade back to encompass the entire kitchen. "You remember that accident Danny got into in the lab?"

The woman flinched, the crackling static covering up her words.

"What is that?" Jazz suddenly reached forwards, snatching the paper out from under her mother's fingers and flipping it over.

I grinned, instantly zooming in to catch a glimpse of what was on the mysterious paper. Blinking, I stopped, staring. It was a picture of the hybrid. White hair, green eyes, and… "Is that a reward poster?" I glanced from the mother's face to the daughter's, watching the tears trickle down one and the shock and surprise appearing on the other.

"You knew?" Jazz whispered, her voice full of ache and shock.

The mother shook her head. "Not for sure, not until just now. But… crackle." The image flickered to black.

Curling my claws into the rodent equivalent of a fist, I held back from whapping the mirror. It chose the worst moments to cut out, it always did. "What did she say?" I hissed as my tail twitched and curled. "Bring the picture back!"

Just before I reached out to fiddle with the controls, the view of the hybrid's family was back. The mother was talking, slowly shaking her head. "Crackle… obvious in a scary kind of way. They look so much alike – I noticed that right off the bat. I just figured he was some kind of throw-off or manifestation due to the accident. Humans can't have ghost powers… crackle."

"How did you figure it out?"

Suddenly I understood. The mother hadn't known the boy was a hybrid. "He kept it a secret for nearly two years?" I murmured in surprise. I had seriously misjudged the boy; he was a much better actor and liar than I gave him credit for.

"I'm not sure," she said, so softly I could barely make it out over the static. "I just woke up this morning and I knew." The mother looked up, the tears still sparkling on her cheek. "Where is my son?"

"I don't know, Mom." The girl was staring down at the poster, silent for so long. The entire image seemed frozen in time. "There's no sign of him in the human world… maybe we need to check the Ghost Zone… crackle."

The woman picked the poster out of her daughter's hand, setting it back down on the paper-strewn table. "More? What do you mean by more?"

"Tucker, Sam, and I have been looking, and we can't find him. But you're a ghost expert."

"I hunted my own son, how does that make me an expert on anything?" she said sourly, standing up and pacing across the kitchen.

The girl was silent. I watched the expressions flit across the mother's face with a grin of delight. The hybrid was from a very interesting family. That sister of his was incredible; she just sat there and let the mother stew in her own thoughts. Smart… dangerously smart. Just for a second, I felt a twinge of fear pass through my mind. If I wasn't careful, this family – whom I seriously underestimated as a whole – would make my plans fall apart. So carefully executed, so carefully planned, so delicate…

"We're going to need some kind of probe." Her eyes were glazed over, thinking. I shivered. I could almost see the gears turning the woman's head – oh yes, I had severely misjudged this family. "Maybe by modifying that new ectoglider…"

I laughed as the picture faded back out. I tapped the controls, letting the image flicker through the rest of the ghost lights. It was doubtful I was going to get that image back anyway, all the good emotions were gone.

All was going to plan. I had Walker's treasure, the hybrid's family was doing their part by coming to 'rescue' the boy, the boy himself was busy falling apart, Walker was being himself… only one last thing to make sure was falling into place.

The ghost lights flickered obediently at my commands. The image I called up was crystal clear – emotions ran thick in the Pits. Two green cloaked ghosts sat in a small room, their heads together. The larger one's silver hands were flapping into the air, talking. "We need more," the ghost hissed.

"Kiuj alia ni povas fidas?" the shorter ghost whispered, pushing its hood back a bit. I caught just the glimpse of a wolf-like muzzle. "Fantoma ne estos fina multe pli longa."

"I don't understand a word you're saying," the silver ghost muttered darkly. "Why can't you learn to speak English like normal prey?"

"Estas parto de mia malbeno."

Green eyes rolled. "Fine. So we're clear on the plan?"

"Jes." This was accompanied by a vigorous nodding of the ghost's head.

"Good. Get busy. Look up everybody you've ever met that might be sympathetic to our cause. Low key, remember? Walker can't find out."

"Jes, mi memoras."

The silver ghost smiled, his vicious grin visible even in the depths of his shadowed hood. "Let's go save the whelp."

The image vanished into a blur of faces and cells. That was it. My plan was right on track. Settling down onto the ground to wait, I couldn't help the wide smile that was crossing my face.

The young woman dropped to the ground as soon as Walker stormed out of the cell, tears dried up, painful sobs still wracking her body. She curled her arms around her bruised and sliced stomach, pressing her forehead into the cool stone floor.

"I don't know," she cried to herself, her voice raspy and broken. "I don't know."

Deep under the cot, the journal fluttered, its pages rustling. But the young woman didn't care. She closed her eyes, agony screaming through every pore of her body. A small rat appeared from behind the journal, sneaking up to press its cold nose against her cheek, sapphire eyes worried. But the girl didn't respond.

She was finally unconscious.