I know, I know. Wasn't going to update in November. BUT – apparently fanfic flows well when I'm trying to write original fiction.

Anyways. The threads are coming together, beginning to tie into a nice little knot. Three chapters left… that's it.

This one's short and not-at-all satisfying, but it's all you're getting. Maim me later.

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Pits
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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Page 16

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"We have a date, remember? Let's go get my knife."

The words were still ringing in my head heartbeats later, echoing oddly due to the small passageway that led from the pits to the cells. My whole world seemed to be frozen as I stared at Walker in a strange mixture of pure terror and dread. The smile on Walker's face was monstrous, his raisin-like dried eyes gleaming with the pleasure he was getting from tormenting me. Swallowing heavily, I just nodded my head. What am I going to do?

"You took too long to win, Punk," Walker said angrily as he walked with me down the halls. "I almost thought you weren't going to."

Glancing down at my feet, I watched the worn rocky floor pass by, basically ignoring what Walker was saying. I was trying hard to think, trying to come up with some sort of plan. I had to give Walker back his knife – but the second I did, Walker would notice the lack of the crystal on the end. The crystal that was the key to the Pits. The thing that opened doors and gave Walker complete and total control of the place. The one thing I couldn't give him because I didn't have it.

What the hell am I going to do?

"Stupid dragon ghost, I shouldn't have let you go up against her anyways. I keep forgetting that the ectoluminum blades can't cut through dragon scales."

There was no way I could just play dumb and try to make Walker think I don't know anything. I'd already told him that I knew about the rat, and the key, and that the knife was in my cell. Walking into my room and then trying to deny any sort of knowledge would be… idiotic on a suicidal level. So I would have to give him something.

But I couldn't give him the knife! My teeth clenched painfully as my brain raced around in pointless circles.

I'd have to give him the knife, there was just no way around it. Walker wasn't going to leave my cell without it, not now that I've admitted it's in there. He'll go nuts over the fact that the crystal was missing. But maybe I could just tell him that I didn't know what had happened to the crystal – or maybe pretend that the crystal hadn't been there from the start. Maybe that would work.

A sudden fist slamming into my head caught me off-guard, sending me collapsing against one of the walls of the corridor. Blinking stars out of my eyes, I looked up at Walker, tensing when I saw the fury in his face. What did I do?

"One will listen when spoken to," he snarled.

"Sorry." The word popped out of my mouth before I was really even aware of what was going on. I fought down a scowl at the automatic response, instead pushing myself to my feet and waiting for Walker to do something more.

He glared at me for a moment longer. "Say 'thank you', Punk."

For what? But my mouth moved. "Thank you." I watched Walker out of the corner of my eye as he slowly deflated, his fury dissolving, and felt my own muscles relax in response. After a few beats, he turned and kept walking down the corridor, not looking back to see if I was following him. I trailed behind, confused as to what had just happened, but not expecting to ever figure it out. Walker was nuts, I'd just give him that.

When we passed by the room my parents were being kept in, I stared at the door with the bloody numbers written on the outside, but I didn't slow my footsteps. I had to keep up with Walker. The only way I was going to get the out of here alive was to at least pretend that I was Walker's little subservient fighter.

As Walker turned an old-fashioned key in the lock on my door and pushed it open, I crossed my fingers behind my back. I could only hope and wish that I wasn't really turning into someone who would follow Walker's every demand. I had been lately… but I had reasons, right? I wasn't doing it because I wanted to.

I shuddered, thinking the logic sounded eerily familiar. I hadn't wanted to kill people, and I had… but I'd had reasons. And then… I started to live with it, to do it without having to do all sorts of mental back flips to keep myself from being a murderer, to almost starting to enjoy it. I liked fighting and I liked the adrenaline rush and the fierce focus that it took to survive.

Was this anything different? Was I going to start wanting to follow Walker's orders?

Walker held out his hand, pointing into my cell, not even bothering to demand that I bring him his knife. I knew he wanted it. He knew I knew he wanted it. I walked forwards and slipped past his white form, being careful not to touch him. Taking a few steps into my cell, I closed my eyes. There was nothing left to do but give him the knife and pray that he fell for my story.

My eyes flickered open and I twisted around, heading for the loose stone in the wall. Glancing one last time at Walker, I worked my fingers into the crack between the stones and pulled. The square stone popped out into my hands and I stared into the dark hole it created.

Walker moved closer, the cold pulsing off of him and sending waves of goose bumps racing down my arms. "Get it," Walker breathed.

I nodded, reaching into the hole. My fingers moved around, probing for the cold steel.

And felt nothing but rock.

"It… it's not in there," I whispered.

Walker furiously pushed me out of the way, stuffing his own hand into the small hole. When his burning eyes turned towards me, my breath caught in my throat. Visible, tangible energy was flowing around Walker like a cape, swirling around him like snakes, snapping at my toes. I stumbled backwards away from him.

"Where. Is. It?" he snarled, his voice barely audible above his rage.

"I-I-I don't know," I stuttered, glancing from the hole in the wall to Walker and back. "That's where I put it!"

Walker screamed in fury. His energy sliced towards me, creeping up my legs in a wash of murderous energy. "Kill them." He turned on his heel and pointed next door. "Drag them into this room and kill them."

"No!" I reached forwards and grabbed Walker's arm. "Don't-"

I didn't get out another word. The collar around my neck flared into life and sent me to the ground, screaming and twisting. Walker must have tweaked something, because the energy snapping around me had never hurt so much before. It sliced into my joints and crackled in my bones and shrieked through my head. When it faded, I was lying curled up on the floor, unable to take a breath, my nose dripping blood onto the floor and down my throat. "No," I rasped, but the word was barely audible even to me. "No, please…"

Beyond my open door, I could hear my parents. "Get your hands off me," my mom snapped, but the guards apparently weren't listening. Both of them were dragged bodily into my room and tossed onto the floor. "Danny!" they both gasped.

I shook my head, tears streaking down my cheeks, unable to get my muscles working well enough to get up off the floor. "No, Walker, please."

Energy gathered around Walker's hand, pointing it at my father. "Which will die first, Punk?"

"Please…" A flare of energy made me close my eyes and look away, a sob catching in my throat. I could see my father's broken body in my mind's eye – I wasn't willing to look at him for real.

"He's still alive, boss," the rough voice of one of the guards said.

I looked around quickly, spotting my father lying on the other side of the cell, his jumpsuit charred, but his chest definitely still moving as he breathed. My heart leapt; my parent's crazy special 'anti-ghost' jumpsuits really worked.

"I'll just shoot him again," Walker growled.

"No!" I finally got my hands and legs coordinated and pushed myself onto my hands and knees. Something that was sparkling just under my cot grabbed my attention and I stumbled forwards, reaching under to grab it. The knife… the rat had moved the knife… I could get it and save my parents. "I… I…"

I yanked it out, twisting around it show it to Walker. The staff LJ had been holding was securely in my grasp. My mind swirled chaotically and tears sprang into my eyes – it wasn't the knife. It was just LJ's stupid weapon.

"What is that?" Walker snapped, snatching it out of my grasp.

"LJ's staff weapon," I whispered, defeated. "He moved the knife."

Walker studied it for a long moment as I stared at the ground, unable to come up with any sort of helpful thoughts. My parents were going to die and I'd have to watch. Sadistically, my brain was informing me that there was a positive point in the whole deal: at least Walker wasn't making me kill them. I shoved that part of my mind into a dark corner. I seem to have a lot of dark corners in my mind now.

"Interesting," Walker whispered, turning the staff over and over in his hand. "Look at the crystal on the side."

Crystal…

The rat could get through the portal and somehow got in and out of my room. Of course the stupid rat had a key – one key per portal, apparently. The tears in my eyes made my vision blurry before I blinked, dislodging them to roll down my cheeks.

I'd given Walker his stupid key anyways.

"Put the humans back in their cell," Walker said slowly.

I didn't even look up as my dad was dragged out of the cell, my mother following after a bit of a struggle. It didn't matter. Walker had a key. My life and my parents' lives no longer mattered to him.

When the door slammed shut, I flinched and pushed myself to my feet. I swayed for a moment, staring dazedly around the room, before dropping onto my cot. With a wince, I stood back up and dug under the thin blanket, searching for the thing I'd sat on.

I knew what it was as soon as I laid fingers on the cold, grimy blade. Yanking it out, I glared down at Walker's knife, feeling a swirl of fury tingle through me. My hands were trembling in anger as I clenched my fingers around the damned thing, willing it to explode. Or Walker to explode. Or the idiotic rat to explode.

Or, preferably, all three at once.

With a scream, I flung the knife across the small cell. It lodged in the door, the dull point driven nearly an inch into the hard wood, and vibrated for a few moments.

Dropping back down onto my cot, I curled my legs up to my chest and closed my eyes. He's got my parents. He's got his key. Everyone with some sort of escape plan was dead or gone. I had no idea what to do next.

That's it. Game over.

Walker wins.

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Dear reader, Walker left me an untold amount of time ago – I still can't tell how much time passes in the Ghost Zone – and I haven't really done much since. The knife's still lodged in the door; I really don't see the point of hiding it anymore. There's nothing to do but sit here and contemplate just how much I screwed up. Eventually I ended up writing in this silly notebook, telling a story that nobody will ever read.

If anyone does ever read this, I'm sure they will be able see how completely stupid I've been. This whole thing is my fault; I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. The rat, who I stupidly trusted, got me into this mess and made me into a willing pawn. Walker's played every card he had, leaving me with absolutely no cards left in my hands and staring stupidly at the door. It's my fault that my parents are going to die. I might not be the one to slit their throats, but I'm the one who set the blade against their skin nonetheless.

And to top it all off, I had a key in my cell this past day or so and I didn't even know it. The rat had given me a way out of here – I could have saved my parents and ran… and now I couldn't even do that. I can't save me… I can't save my parents… I can't save anything.

Some hero I am. What an idiot I've been, thinking I could go up against someone like Walker and the rat – spirits who have been around for a lot longer than me. What made me think I could possibly win this? I really never had a chance.

It's hard to think about the fact that the next person I see in a pit will probably be one of my parents. Walker might keep them alive now that he's got his key – he could use them to make me do just about anything – but I'm not sure he'll be able to resist the temptation to see what I'd do if I was thrown in a fight against them. Walker will eventually get Jazz, and Valerie, and Sam and Tucker (if they really are still alive) and I'll end up being nothing but his slave in order to keep them safe.

Everyone I could use to help me is gone. I'm never going to trust the rat again, Former and his brother are dead, my parents are locked in a room I can't get into, and I have no way of getting in contact with Skulker… if that rebellion thing is even real. I don't have anything left to fight with but this journal, a picture, a burned scrunchie, and the whatever-it-is Former left for me.

It's just me. Just Danny Fenton.

And I don't know what to do.

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The young human hesitated, staring at the words written on the page and running her finger over the smudged pencil lead. "That's it, huh?" She flipped the page, just to make sure. Staring down at the blank page for a moment, she sighed. The story was over; there was no more.

"Why'd he stop?" she wondered aloud as she closed the notebook and leaned back against the wall. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "It's because he left his cell and never came back. Wonder what happened to him."

Carefully getting to her feet, she put the notebook carefully back in the corner of the room under the cot. "I hope he made it out of here." She picked up the knife next to her, weighing the heavy metal in her hand before hiding it back in the hole behind the loose rock. "And why'd he put the knife back in its hiding spot? What happened to make him want to do that?"

She settled back down against the wall. It wasn't much later when two guards appeared, pushed her roughly out of her cell, strapped two bloody and dirty blades onto her arms, and led her out into the pits.

Staring into the green eyes of her opponent, she ceased to care about what had happened to the mysterious boy that had written in the notebook.

And she never would again.

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Um…

… (blink)

Oops…

… (blink) (blink)

I think I may have just killed my plot device.

… (blink)

BUT THAT CAN'T BE THE END! There's more to this story!!! What complete idiot wrote… oh yeah…

… um… this may be a problem…

I need to go figure out how to keep this story going now that I've destroyed my plot device.

(chews fingernails anxiously)

This might take awhile...

In the mean time, thanks to Hiei's Cute Girl, kdm13, oceanabyss, katiesparks, Chaos Dragon, Kit turned Mighty, Thunderstorm101, KareBare, Me-agaisnt-the-world, phantomphreak09, FreakLevel27, Nylah, MaxRideNut, Forget and Forgive, New Ghost Girl, swordbunny4486, Invader Johnny, Enray, HaiJu, ImmortalPhantom22, at-a-glance, Lockblade, Kiomori, CatalystOfTheSoul, skitzofrenic, DannysGhostWriter, and HeraLedro.

Later!

-Cori