Maybe when this stupid story is done I'll be able to get back to NaNoWriMo…
Warning for a macabre image about half-way through… nothing I ain't done before, but due for a warning in a 'T'-rated story.
Yay (?) for pneumonia and being stuck at my computer all day. I get stuff done between the coughing and the aching and the horrible-ness.
Pits
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria
Page 17
A flicker of light under the cot was the only sign of movement in the empty room that once held a doomed young human female and an impossible human-ghost hybrid. Had there been anyone there to watch, they would have seen something strange happening under the wooden platform. There was a ghost light that seemed to be reading from a battered red notebook…
…only there were no words on the page.
Some stories are told in ink, others are told in graphite, some are told in pixels and binary code, and yet others are told by words. But there are some stories are so desperate, so powerful, so legendary that they are actually written into the air itself. Stories that, even if they were never written down or told, would always be remembered.
Such is the story of the young teenager that has been locked in this room for, as the humans tell time, a few days short of three months. It is a story that is engraved into the very atmosphere of this place. He wrote down a good bit of it but, due to circumstances beyond his control, could not write down the ending. We highly doubt he ever will, so we have taken it upon ourselves to translate that which he smote into the walls, floors, doors… into the very people of this place.
As we stand watch over those that will not live, we shall transform the story from pure feeling and thought into words for you. Just remember that the story scribed in the air is Danny's story – even as we tell the story that Danny imparted to us, it is no longer the young hybrid who is writing.
It is us, we, them.
We do this because we owe the hybrid much more than a warning to his parents that ultimately went unheeded. Our freedom means more than can truly be repaid during the course of a short, human lifespan. But mostly, we do this because we wish to. We wish the truth to be known.
You see, Danny's view of the world was rather limited. He was mostly human – which can be an annoying censoring problem in and of itself – and he was locked in his cell. It was only in the last few pages of his journal that he was starting to uncover the truth about his imprisonment, and even then all he learned was by mistake. What he saw and told and wrote was filtered through his own knowledge and experiences.
Danny did not – could not – watch the death of Former's young brother at the hands of a battle-hungry ghost named Specter. Danny would not have been able to witness Former's attack on Walker, nor the human's subsequent incarceration. Danny would never have had a way of knowing that instead of crushing the human rebellion as Walker assumed it would, Former's capture inflamed it by turning the human into a martyr. Danny would never realize on his own that Former had been freed from his cell by the rebellion before he could be thrown into a fight to die and had been hiding, plotting, and planning the freedom of thousands.
We know, because we watched. We had to watch back then; we were forced to dance. Now, we watch because it is our choice, our duty, and we dance to cheer up those who will soon join our ranks.
Perhaps the thing Danny knew least as he sat on his cot, scribbling the last few words into his notebook, was who was standing outside the door of his cell with a stolen set of keys. One person that could completely change his world.
I dropped the notebook back on my cot and let my head fall back with a heavy sigh. "What am I going to do?" I muttered sourly, kicking one of my feet out to dangle over the edge of the hard bed. This had to have been the fiftieth time I asked that, and still the answer was the same: I don't know.
It rankled against my nerves. I had nothing to do in this cell but stare at the wall and contemplate how much I screwed everything up and how little I could do about it. I was well and truly at the mercy of Walker's crazy plots.
Jumping to my feet, I paced back and forth, eventually ending up staring at the door of my cell, my hand lightly touching the rough, charred wood. The knife I'd thrown earlier was still lodged in the thick wood. "What I really need is to get out of this room," I whispered. "There's just no way out without a key."
On impulse, I pulled on the door… but it was firmly locked shut. "To get out I need a key. How can I get a key?"
To get a key, you need to be out of the room. I sighed at the thought and shook my head. "There's got to be something I can do. Someone I can talk to."
I wrapped my hand around Walker's knife and yanked it out of the door, reaching up to trace the gouge with a finger before turning around and starting to pace again. "To get out of the cell I need a key, to get a key I need to get out of the cell. No wonder this stupid place is called a prison." Eying the door, willing it to open, I dropped back down on the cot.
Suddenly a key jangled in the lock. I blinked, startled, then stuffed Walker's knife under the blanket of my cot and scrambled to my feet. Now what? My heart thudded loudly in my chest, my mind racing with the different ideas of what Walker might be back to do. Killing my parents was one terrifying thought, followed closely by one about coming to dangle their lives over my head.
He could make me do just about anything. He already had on many levels – I'd murdered innocent ghosts and humans alike for Walker's cruel idea of entertainment. What other things would I be willing to do to keep my family alive for a few more days?
The door swung open and a tall figure stepped in, quickly pushing the door shut behind him. I stared at him in dazed surprise, collapsing onto my cot. "You… you…"
"Hi," Gory Former said with a tense smile.
"Y-y-you're dead," I finally managed to get out.
He arched an eyebrow and a sad smile drifted across his face. "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
My brain kicked into gear and I licked my lips. "I heard about your brother."
His tiny smile looked a little fixed, but he nodded. "Listen, kid, do you still have the key I gave you?"
The world, for what had to be the twelfth time since I was thrown into this crazy place, fell totally silent and still. He gave me a key? I STILL had a key!? How many keys did I have in this room? "Um…" I looked around the small cell, studying the walls for a silent moment, unable to believe what he had told me. "Maybe. What's it look like?"
He gave me a blank look. "The motherboard I gave you. You still have it, right?"
"Uh, yes." I reached over and held it up, the badly-soldered circuits glinting in the flickering ghost lights.
"Excellent." This time his grin looked almost real. He strode across the room and plucked it out of my fingers, examining it. "Sorry I didn't explain it better; I didn't think I'd be alive much longer and I just tossed it in the envelope," he murmured, an odd sad look in his eyes. "But yeah," he said and glanced up at me, "it's a key."
"So we can get out of here…" I breathed, climbing to my feet. When he simply shook his head, I blinked, staring at him. "Why not?"
"Walker knows I'm still alive," Former said simply, turning his circuit board over and over in his fingers. "The exits are crawling with guards, everything is shielded, and the doors – which neither a human or ghost can phase through – are locked shut. I can get you out of this room, but we can't get out of the Pits. Besides," he smiled a little and stuck the circuit board in his pocket, "this key doesn't open doors."
What's it open? I breathed out slowly, trying to think. "So…"
"We have a plan to get out of here," Former said softly, throwing me off topic. "The ghosts constantly underestimate us humans and we can use that. We can deal with most of the guards, but we need a great big distraction." His eyes fixed on mine.
"Me."
He nodded, even though I hadn't really asked a question. "You, if you're willing."
Glancing down at the floor, I squeezed my eyes shut. This is what I had been hoping for – a plan, an escape, a way out… but would it work? "My parents are next door."
"I know," he said, "but I can't free them yet; Walker will just use you to get them back. We'll have to free them while you're pulling off your distraction." A hand touched my shoulder and I opened my eyes to look at him. "Danny, I promise we'll free them – please help us."
I swallowed and nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
"Simple." His grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "Lose your next fight."
"I want to see my parents," I whispered when he was done explaining his 'plan'. It was really a good plan – the distraction I'd be playing would do exactly what he wanted it to do. The great 'Danny Phantom' losing a fight would draw most of the guards over to watch and I'd definitely have Walker's complete attention. Nobody would notice the fighters being smuggled out the front door by Skulker's rebellion.
Former hesitated but nodded, fiddling with the keys in his hand. "You can't stay long – the guards will be out soon, making their rounds. I need to be hidden again before they show up." He pulled on my door and it swung open before he gestured out into the hallway. When I walked past him he reached out and grabbed my shoulder, squeezing it. "Danny…"
"I'm fine," I said, pushing his hand off my shoulder. "I know how to lose a fight; I've had plenty of practice with Dash. Don't worry about that part of the plan."
"That's not what I meant," he said softly and trailed me down the hallway to the next door. "I know what I'm asking you to do."
"Drop it." Crossing my arms, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "It's not like I have much of a life to go back to anyways." I'm just a murderer – wanting to fight, not minding killing. What kind of life would I be able to have anymore? Would I ever be able to be 'normal' again if I made it home? Not that I was crazy about dying, but getting my parents free would help. "Open the door, please."
Former studied me for a long moment before he stuck one of the keys in the lock of my parents' door and twisted it. But instead of pushing the door open, he turned to me. "I'm still thinking, Danny. I'll find a way to get the shield down and get through all the guards and rescue you too. We just don't know how yet."
"Don't worry about it," I whispered and pushed past him. I was pretty sure I'd be able to come up with some way of keeping myself alive, no matter how much Former assumed that me losing would equate with me dying. My hand pressed against the cold, hard door and I tossed the thoughts out of my mind. Stop thinking about it for now.
"Five minutes," Former said quietly and stepped out of the way.
With a nod, I pushed the door open and stepped in. Both of my parents were asleep on the single cot on the room, my mom lying in my dad's arms. Wondering how they could have slept through the door opening – a noise that never failed to wake me up, heart pounding – I walked silently up to them and crouched down. My parents looked so peaceful that, for a moment, I didn't want to wake them up.
Finally, unable to keep from touching them any longer, I reached forwards and touched my mother's shoulder.
That woke her up. Her eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat, her body flinching slightly before her brain caught up. For the longest time she just stared at me, tears starting to glisten in her eyes. Then, in a sudden movement I could barely follow, she was out of bed, her arms wrapped around me, squeezing tightly. "Danny, Danny, Danny, Danny…" she whispered over and over.
I hugged her back tightly, burying my head in her shoulder, unable to get any words to form in my throat. When another set of warm arms wrapped around me, I didn't bother to open my eyes to check. I could feel my father's comforting bulk.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to your warning," Mom breathed, pushing me away just enough to look into my eyes. I glanced into her loving eyes for just a moment and then looked away, uncomfortable with what she'd see reflected in mine.
"It's okay," I said with a smile.
Her fingers drifted through my uncut, dirty hair and traced over my face. Dad, who was crouched beside her, seemed to be unable to do anything but stare at me and nod along with Mom's words. "How did you get in here?"
"A key." I shrugged a bit, glancing back at where Former stood in the doorway. "There's quite a few of them around, apparently. But listen." I took a breath and looked from one to the other. "We've got a plan to get out of here. There's going to be a distraction and all the prisoners are going to be freed." I watched their eyes light up and smiled. "Get to the front door – the ghosts wearing green will be carrying everyone back to the human world."
Dad grinned, but Mom's face took on a kind of worried look. "Where are you going to be?"
I looked down at the floor. "I'm the distraction," I whispered.
"And you'll join us where?"
I couldn't look at her when I answered – I couldn't let her know that I was lying to her. "The front door. I'm going to fight long enough to keep everyone distracted and then I'll make a run for it." All I'll have in my way is every guard and Walker himself and a ghost shield I can't get through – but I'll try Mom. I looked up at her and smiled, feeling a burst of happiness when she smiled hesitantly back. But please leave if I don't show up.
"Danny," Former said, "time's up."
"I've got to go," I said, unwillingly getting to my feet. "We can't let the guards know we can get out of our cells." I threw my arms around my parents one last time, knowing in my heart that I probably would never see them again. "I love you guys."
"I love you, Danny," Mom whispered back, tears on her cheeks.
Pushing myself to my feet, I slipped back to the door.
"Danny!" Dad called suddenly and I hesitated, turning around. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes glittering with tears. "I'm proud of you."
When Former pulled the door shut, cutting off the sight of my parents, I walked silently back to my cell. Just before I pulled open the door, Former stopped me, digging the circuit board back out of his pocket and holding it up. "Hang on, kid."
I watched him, a little dazedly, as he pushed a combination of the buttons, then reached forwards and fiddled with the leathery collar around my neck. "What?" I finally asked.
"Deactivating your collar," he murmured. "I won't take it off and you'll have to pretend to get shocked to keep them from knowing we can deactivate these things, but…" His hands went back to his sides, the circuit board slipping back into a pocket. He studied me for a long moment, then rocked back on his heels. "Good luck, Danny."
Good luck dying? "What happens if I get a fighter that's a lot weaker than me – one who won't fight back? I can't lose that kind of a fight." I wasn't entirely sure where the question had come from and the idea of throwing a Pit fight left a morbid, unsettled feeling in my stomach.
"We fixed the fights. You're going up against Specter… she'll keep you busy."
Oh. My gaze trained down on my feet. Okay.
The door closed, the lock rattled, and I was alone.
It was a little weird, just letting my mind drift while I waited for the world to end. Dozens of snapshots of memories drifted past me. Memories of subduing the attacking turkey last Thanksgiving with Jazz, and making cookies with Mom, and helping Dad clean up piles of goo. Not all of them were particularly pleasant memories, but I sat there and let myself remember them, not really noticing when I started to slowly rock and forth, my knees pulled up against my chest, tears curling down my face.
Will I ever see them again? I hated to think about the fact that I might not – they were so close and I'd do just about anything to keep them safe. They were my parents; I loved them. Former's plan would really work. It would get them free.
Me, though…
My stomach hurt. Swallowing heavily, I buried my face in my knees. Was I really willing to give my life to save my parents? I'd agreed to it earlier, but could I really go through with it? Create a distraction, sure… but die?
I'd definitely go to the fight. I'd definitely keep everyone's attention on me for as long as I could, really draw out the fight to give everyone a chance to get away. Then… would I die? Would I really allow myself to just stand there, knowing how close I was to freedom, and let other fighter kill me? I'd done it before – not that it had worked – but I'd been having a bit of a personality crisis back then.
Would I, could I, go through with it and let myself die?
No. No, that wasn't me – I didn't have it in me to just sit there and die, not after I promised my mother that I'd try my hardest to get free. I'd draw out the fight, then I'd either win or die trying. Once I won, I'd try to escape. Not that there really was a way for me to get out of the fight after I won; Walker's shield, every guard, and Walker himself would form a barrier I wouldn't be able to get through.
But I'd try.
I'd try my hardest to survive this horrible fate that had seemed to have snuck up on me, curled and ready to pounce and end my life. I just needed a plan.
First things first: I needed a way to get through the ghost shield. How can I do that?
Crossing my legs and hovering a few feet above the ground, I stared down at my hand, thinking back to the last fight – the one with the dragon-ghost. My hand had done something; it had managed to get through the ghost shield. For just a moment, part of me had been forcibly changed back to human. The shock from the ghost shield must have acted like that stupid thing Plasmius likes to shock me with to turn me human.
How to get through a ghost shield… I mused, flexing my fingers and letting my mind wander. I'd have to be human. I wonder…
I reached into my soul, searching for the familiar warmth that had always accompanied my human form. Letting myself remember what it was like to be human was like looking for an old, worn, leather jacket. I needed to prod those feelings into full bloom and make them swamp my entire body.
Nothing happened for the longest time. As I floated there, staring down at my hand, mind focused on the single task I'd set myself, the door slid open and a bowl of glowing mush was dropped into my cell. I didn't care – I wasn't hungry. It hit me, just for a moment, that I hadn't eaten anything since Former's brother handed me that loaf of bread, something that had to have been days, if not maybe not weeks ago, but I pushed it aside. That wasn't a human thought.
I was trying to be human. My body, my thoughts, my whole soul aligning with the life that flowed through my veins.
It was laughably easy to do when I was a pure ghost – my human life was so different from what I felt as a ghost. Black and white. Hot and cold. Just a pendulum swinging back and forth between life and death.
Now I almost human. Becoming totally human wasn't going to feel that much different from what I was feeling now and it wasn't nearly as easy. The pendulum of my transformation had stopped and getting it swinging again was difficult. I had to actually sit and think about what it was like to be a human. What kind of thoughts, what kind of feelings…
My fingers tingled painfully and a sparkle of silvery light washed over them. For just a moment, I could feel the warm, human blood flowing through my hand… then it all vanished again. "Excellent," I whispered. It wasn't so impossible after all.
I focused, staring at my hands, trying to relax. Trying to remember…
Stomach gurgling…
Headaches…
The soft thump of a heartbeat…
Warmth…
Life…
Humanity…
Light flickered and flashed around me, throwing the walls into an eerie, stark relief. I dropped to the ground, my totally human feet feeling the cold floor through the thin soles of my shoes. I breathed out, my breath fogging in the chill air, and my stomach twisted angrily, annoyed at the lack of food inside of it.
Then it slipped from my grip and I was back to my hybrid form in a flare of cold silver – slow heartbeat, cold blood, not caring about food or the temperature…
But I was grinning wildly as I drifted back into the air. If I could do that at the right moment, I'd be able to get through the shield.
I'd only have to get through every one of Walker's guards… and Walker himself… and I'd be free.
What was probably hours later, I was still floating there bored out of my mind. I'd managed to figure out how to 'trigger' my transformation on cue, but holding it for more than a second was proving to be impossible. And, based on the splitting headache that was throbbing behind my eyes and the sharp aches that were invading every molecule of my body, my body wasn't too appreciative of my efforts.
In a fit of 'I need something to do', I yanked out the loose stone in the wall and tossed Walker's knife into the hole. Walker knew about the hiding spot, but I doubted he'd look in it again. He seemed to be convinced that the rat had the knife. Any way it worked out, I didn't particularly want him to get the thing back even thought the knife was lacking the all-important crystal.
The picture of my family went carefully in the back of the notebook I'd wished for from Desiree, and the notebook was stuck under my cot in a vague attempt to keep Walker from finding it. I had no doubt that he was going to tear apart my cell the first chance he got in a desperate attempt to find his key, but at least I was going to try. The pencil I'd been using was nothing more than a stub, whittled away by pages and pages of writing and using my blades to keep the point sharp; the pencil was tossed under my bed as well.
I kind of hoped nobody would ever get to read it. If I had my way, Walker would be dead and, if I could believe the backstabbing rat, the Pits would 'revert' to where they had been all these years and pull out of the Ghost Zone. Nobody would be able to get in.
If someone ever did read it, though, I wondered what they'd think of my story. I wondered if they'd think I was crazy, scribbling down a story that no one would ever read. And I wondered if they would be as confused as I had been these past…. however long it's been… or if they would see the truth so much faster than I had.
Would some reader see me as nothing more than the annoying child Walker sees?
Finding my way back to the center of the cell, I floated up a few feet and closed my eyes, humming softly. The echo in my voice combined with the reverberation from the cell's rocky walls always created an eerie sound – one that had grown to be strangely soothing after all this time. I let my voice slip from random notes to an actual simple melody, humming about Mary and her little lamb. The ghost lights – who seem to be much more intelligent than I originally gave them credit for – danced along with the music.
One of them slowly drifted down towards me, bobbing and weaving in the air. I held out a hand and it 'perched' on my palm for a moment, strangely warm-cold. A few tendrils of green light curled out from the light and coiled around my fingers.
And suddenly I wasn't in my room.
I was twirling and dancing through the endless corridors of the Pits, my mind flying faster than my body could ever hope to follow, all of my worries dashing away. You should see this, little oyster, the light whirling beside me said, yanking me forwards.
I followed. For a few spectacular moments I was completely careless about what was about to happen to me, noting that this sort of existence wasn't so bad after all. We swirled past Walker, who was talking to some guards, and cascaded around guards patrolling the empty hallways, never seen, never bothered, never stopped. We ended up near the room that used to be Former's office… the place where all the pits fights start. The light paused, then dove towards the ground, slipping under a door on the opposite side of the hallway from Former's office.
Hesitating, I didn't follow right away. Former's kid brother had told me about the room, ever so briefly, and I still remembered it.
"That," he gestured at the door, "is a room you never want to see the inside of, trust me."
"What's in there?"
Shuddering, he just shook his head. "I hope you never find out. I was put in there once, a long time ago. It was one of the first rooms I ever saw, and I still have nightmares about it."
But doubts and fears didn't have a place in this ghost light state that I had found myself and I followed, ducking under the door.
Two things hit me simultaneously: the first being the stench of rotting bodies. "People go in, but nobody ever comes out." I recoiled, racing for the relative safety of the ceiling, wishing I could close my eyes and not see what was in the room. Human bodies, in various states of decomposition, were tossed randomly into the small room. Pools and splatters of dried blood formed macabre images on the floor and the walls, limp bodies tossed on top of piles of bones, picked clean by things I didn't want to think about. That answers the question of where they throw the human bodies after they lose a Pit fight, my mind whispered sourly.
The second thing to hit me was the fact that there was movement in the room. Two figures were curled up in blankets, their heads close together, whispering back and forth. What they were talking about, I couldn't tell.
I dropped a little lower, letting the light from my body illuminate their faces. The first looked up – Former squinting his eyes a little – and I shivered. This is where he is forced to stay?
The ghost light that had drawn me here danced down through the air and twirled around me. That is not what you are here to see, young oyster.
The second figure looked up, tears streaking down a very familiar face. I had no doubt what kind of torment she was going through right at the moment, huddled in this gruesome room. I couldn't really feel anything more than a dead sort of stunned as I floated, watching eerie lights dance in her human eyes.
Oh no…
I'd left the ghost lights and had been back in my hybrid body for the longest time before something new happened in this thing I call my life. The sight of her here in the Pits had given me a lot to think about, but my mind had eventually dropped into something that almost resembled sleep – a kind of dazed waiting for something to happen. When the door to my cell suddenly slammed open, I flinched out of my bored stupor and dropped painfully to the ground. "Ow…" I muttered before glancing up. Crud.
Energy was flaring around Walker like a cyclone of power. He raised an arm and I caught just a glimpse of the rat's spear in his hand before he hurled it in my direction. I had only the slightest moment to flinch, expecting to be hit, before Walker sent a blast of power towards the flying object and disintegrated it right in front of my face.
Blinking the spots out of my eyes, I scooted backwards on the rough stones, carefully watching Walker and fighting down the curl of terror that was threatening to overwhelm my mind. Why's he so mad? His hand drifted down to the box on his belt and I tensed. If he pushed the button to shock me, I'd have to 'fake' it – and I had no doubts that my acting abilities would not impress him.
Instead, his hand was shoved into his pocket, the small jewel coming out, held tightly in his fingers. "This…" he seethed, almost growling.
I licked my lips and waited when Walker trailed off, closed his eyes, and almost seemed to be vibrating in fury. Not a good time to say something.
"This," he finally continued, "is not my key." There was another brilliant flare of light as Walker completely destroyed the jewel that had been found on the rat's spear. "Where is my key?!"
I couldn't do anything but shake my head, mouth working soundlessly. I couldn't tell him where it was.
Walker snarled – almost a scream – and stalked into my cell. His boots echoed as he stormed up to me, grabbed my arm painfully, and levered me to my feet and out through my door. Horror flickered through me, momentarily convinced that Walker was going to drag me to my parents' door and demand I kill them, but Walker pulled me past, my feet barely getting purchase on the ground.
"You will fight," he hissed finally, half-carrying half-dragging me down the endless, dark corridors of the Pits. "You will lose this time, Punk." He glared down at me, his eyes glowing like eerie supernovas in the shadowed darkness. The ghost lights overhead were scattering as he made his way down the hallway, essentially creating a blob of darkness that moved with us. "If you win, I will destroy your parents and then go find anyone you ever considered to be a friend and I will kill them as well."
My stomach dropped out from underneath me, a thick load of bile rising in my throat. It wasn't in response to the part about losing a fight, but the fact that it was now and not when Former had planned it… it caused a flash of pure dread to slam into me. Would the rebellion realize what was going on? Would they have time to free everyone? I wouldn't be much of a distraction if I died…
"Understood?" he snapped, giving my whole body a fierce shake.
I nodded painfully. It took a few more doors, but I managed to swallow the choking block in my throat and rasp out, "What will happen to my parents?"
Walker merely snarled in response and I dropped my head, still keeping one eye on Walker's hands. He couldn't push that button to activate my collar.
Finally jerking me to a stop, he threw open the doors to the office that previously belonged to Former and tossed me in. I tumbled to the hard ground, my body aching from the rough treatment, but almost instantly scrambled back to my feet. Walker didn't hang around; he had twirled on his heel and slammed the door shut with a loud bang almost before I managed to get my feet under me.
"Early," a voice grunted and I flipped around, my heart racing until I realized the speaker was Joe – Former's replacement.
My gaze flickered around the room, noted that it was empty, and settled back on Joe's face. "Sorry. Walker kind of dragged me here."
He snorted and stared down at his book, running a hand through his hair. "Great," he murmured darkly, scratching at things in his book with his pen. Then he shook his head and looked up at me with a blank expression. "Wait."
"Wait? Wait for what?" Now that my heart was slowing back down to a normal speed, the horror of the situation was coming back in full-force. Was I ruining everyone's plans again?
A glimmer of a sad smile drifted onto his face. "Specter."
That literally rocked me back on my heels. "I'm still going to fight Specter?"
"Yup." He nodded slowly and the solid mass that was my stomach started to unclench and loosen. But why wouldn't I fight whoever had been on the list next? Why was I still going to fight… things clicked into place with an almost audible snap. Joe's human – of course he's part of the rebellion!
"And…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. If I were wrong – which I had been before – I couldn't give away Former's plans.
We waited in quiet silence, staring at each other. Joe occasionally looked down at his book and scribbled in it with his pen before looking back up. His eyes were always empty and blank as they studied me.
When the door opened again, we both jumped. "Other room's full," a guard said sourly as a figure walked through the door. It was the girl I'd seen before – silver hair pulled back in a ponytail, sharp green eyes, and a murderous smile on her face. She walked in a few feet and waited, her hands behind her back, her eyes fixing on me as her smile grew.
"Specter," Joe said. Then he pointed towards the door that led out into the arena and muttered, "Go."
The ghost-girl brushed past me, moving her body with the flowing grace of a fighter. I waited a beat before turning to follow her. This was my fight… my last fight.
"Phantom."
I turned around and looked up at Joe as he raised a hand and held it out. I walked forwards a few feet, grasped it, and he shook my hand. His eyes, which were normally so blank and emotionless, were filled with hope and belief. His fingers clenched painfully around mine. "'Luck," he whispered, then let go.
"Thanks," I said softly. "You too."
And then the fight was on.
Back in an empty cell that Danny would never return to, there was already movement. A certain rat – who wasn't really a rat – crawled through the tiny portal in the corner of the cell, dragging a few pieces of paper behind him. L'Jai, the sole 'survivor' of the catastrophe of Atlantis, walked up to Danny's notebook and started flipping through the pages, reading bits and pieces. Eventually he paused and inserted one of his pages into the notebook before going back to skimming through Danny's story.
"He really is a better writer than he gives himself credit for," the rat muttered, still annoyed at Danny for destroying a plan that had been in the works for a century.
But… he could admit that perhaps he'd gone a bit too far. Dragging the young half-ghost into the Pits, drugging him to create the unique hybrid form, keeping the plan from him… He could see how Danny had gotten fed up with him.
Next time he'd pick someone with less backbone… or drug them into not caring.
A flicker of light swirled down around him and L'Jai tensed. A lone ghost light curled and danced around the rat's small form. "Leave me alone." He shuddered when the strange hot-cold energy of the ghost light touched his fur. "I don't have the key. I can't do anything."
Almost impossibly, the ghost light stopped its dancing. It hovered, perfectly still, in front of the rat's face. Green glowed straight into the rat's blue eyes, flaring and flickering like a tiny fire.
"I'm not the master of the Pits anymore," L'Jai grumbled, dropping his head down onto his paws with a sigh, knowing he'd be unable to get out of this conversation. "I've told you that a dozen times. I can't do anything until I get my key back."
The ghost light flared brilliantly.
The rat's eyes narrowed angrily. "The souls I sent out to the Fenton's house all made it back safely. Don't you dare go accusing me of not caring – I remember the promise I made."
Again, the ghost light blazed and flickered.
"And you can knock it off with the 'I told you so's. I'm well aware that my plan blew up in my face, just like you said it would. It's partly your fault, you know." L'Jai blinked when the light flashed impossibly bright, but then continued. "Yes, yes it is. You showed him images of his family – I know you did. You used the ectoluminum in his blood to turn his whole body into a receptor. If you hadn't done that, he would have happily gone along with my plan and you would be two steps closer to being free, now wouldn't you?"
The ghost light glimmered softly for a moment, seeming to digest that.
"Now leave me alone. I've got to make a new plan." L'Jai turned around to head back through the portal, but the ghost light suddenly shot around in front of him and flared brightly. For a moment, L'Jai stood still, digesting what the ghost light had told him, but then a smile crept onto his face.
"Maybe all is not lost…"
Twenty seconds later, the small blue-black rat was racing down the dark corridors in the bowels the Pits, uncaring about who he was passing. Behind him, the tiny ghost light fell back under the compulsion to dance, twirling back up towards the ceiling before slipping out through the door. As it danced down the hallway, it collected dozens of ghost lights behind it, a large procession that looked a lot like a moving blob of fire.
I ignored the guards as they escorted me into the arena on Specter's heels. Instead, my gaze was up and swinging over the seats of the Pits. The glow of hundreds of guards was unmistakable and I could see more and more guards filing through the doors to find seats. No doubt they had heard that I was supposed to 'lose' my fight and wanted to be here to see it. Walker was up in his special box, staring at me with his raisin-like eyes, presiding over the fight to the death like a Roman emperor.
The lack of green in the audience both scared me and gave me hope. The rebels had to have heard about the change in plans… they wouldn't be here if they were working on getting the fighters out. But I didn't know for sure. Perhaps they were still hiding someplace… or couldn't get into the Pits at all. There were no guarantees that this plan would work.
I would do my best, however, to keep the guards and Walker busy for as long as I could. Drag out the fight and not go down without making a huge spectacle.
Add that to the fact that I wasn't planning on 'going down' and I was going to give the guards more than enough reason to watch me and not notice the people sneaking out from under their noses.
I reached my spot, coming to a relaxed stop, my arms dangling loosely by my sides. I was, in some crazy way, looking forwards to this fight. My heart was already beating faster, my muscles tensing, my stomach clenching, an interesting rush of adrenaline scorching through my veins. This fight wouldn't be something easy. This would test my limits.
Specter reached her spot, twirling around to wait, mirroring me on the other side of the arena. She looked, at first glance, just like Dani – but closer inspection showed that they were nothing alike. Her chin was tilted up arrogantly, her body bouncing on her toes, her messy white hair falling out of its pony tail and into her green eyes. The desire to fight, to kill, to mindlessly murder was written onto every one of her features, glittered in her malevolent eyes, sparkled in her ruthless smile, and twirled around her in an almost visible aura of danger.
"Hello, Phantom," she said softly, a grin on her face, a mocking bow sketched into the air. "We meet at last."
The guards snapped on the shield over our heads with an audible zing of energy and I returned her bow. I might as well make as large a production out of this as I can. "Hello, Specter."
She surprised me by laughing and spreading her arms, ghostly blades forming at her fingers. She curled her hands around the newly-formed daggers and crossed them in front of her chest like an entombed Egyptian king. "Shall we?"
I shrugged as cold trickled down my arms and the star-silver blades formed, arching over my hands. I flicked them through the air, watching the gentle light from the shield sparkle on their smooth surfaces. "Well, it's what they're here to see, I guess; don't want to disappoint the blood-hungry demons."
With a movement so fast I could barely follow, she suddenly attacked low, slicing towards my feet. I slammed out with one blade, knocking her first attack out of the way, not noticing the second dagger stabbing towards my stomach. Out of options and a split-second from being eviscerated on the first attack, I simply kicked out with a foot and knocked her to the ground. Her dagger sliced through my shirt and some skin, but not deep enough to really cause any damage.
She slipped back to her feet, daggers growing into longer rapiers. "You really are as good as rumor said," she whispered with a smile. "That would have killed most other fighters. But I did tag you."
I moved backwards a few feet, settling into a loose crouch with my blades up and ready to block her. The slice on my stomach was burning and I could feel cold blood oozing from the shallow cut. "Do it again, I dare you," I muttered.
"Oh, I intend to," she cooed. "I don't believe that today will be the end of things for me."
I waited just a moment longer, then attacked her, trying to use my longer reach to my advantage. She blocked everything I could throw at her, slice after chop after slice, before ducking and slipping backwards out of the way. I was stronger, but she was incredibly fast.
Around us, the crowd full of prison guards was cheering and jumping and shouting. Many of them had taken to the air, their arms raised as they yelled and screamed for their favorite. From what I could hear, a good number of them were betting on me winning despite what Walker had decreed would be the result of the fight.
I wasn't going to be able to touch Specter, not with how fast she was. I paced in a semi-circle around her between exchanges of attacks, studying her, trying to come up with a new plan. The blades sparkled on my arms as I charged them, grinning when the greenish energy cast fire-like images on the walls around us. If I couldn't beat her in a 'normal' fight, I'd have to take it to a new level.
The blades had a powerful store of energy – more than I'd ever admitted to the rat. The blast that had destroyed the one arena might have been a one-time thing, but I could definitely use the power that was still in them to do some horrible damage.
Specter narrowed her eyes suspiciously and fell into a deeper crouch, her ghostly rapiers ready and waiting to block any physical attack I could throw at her.
I wasn't planning a physical attack. I crouched, mirroring her, and touched one of the blades to the ground. Energy swirled around me as I focused it, giving it a destination and a job to do. Pure green fire cascade out of the blade, my own energy magnified by the power of the blades, and danced along the sandy ground like lightning. It zapped towards Specter, but she took to the air before it could reach her.
As she hovered, the energy from my attack collected in her shadow and small flares of emerald lightning curled up towards Specter's suspended form. I watched it, expecting it to dissipate, but the energy just sat there, waiting, ready for her to land.
"Interesting," Specter whispered, then looked up at me with a grin. "But watch this." She took one of her rapiers, flipped it through the air before catching it in reverse, and touched one end to the energy coiling under her. It flared and swirled dangerously for a moment before exploding with a loud crackling sound.
My eyes widened, barely catching sight of the ball of energy zapping back towards me before I threw myself into the air as well. The energy curled under me for a few moments before racing back to Specter's shadow. For a long few heartbeats, we both watched the energy zip back and forth like some sort of backwards game of Keep-Away, the ball of power obviously waiting for someone to land.
"Now it's an aerial battle," Specter said pleasantly. "Hope you don't mind."
I shook my head, annoyed at how my plan had backfired. Throwing myself towards her, I sliced out sideways, forcing her to back up, using my longer reach and stronger arms in an attempt to make her drop lower in the air. She bobbed and weaved, blocking every one with simple movements of her arms, but kept herself a safe distance from the energy crackling on the sandy floor.
I suddenly cut upwards and managed to knock both of her swords out of the way, reversing the direction of the blade and slicing towards her head. She was forced to duck, her hair taking the sharp edge of my blade, and her rapier stabbed out. I bit back a yelp as it caught the side of my foot. With an unimaginably quick movement, she straightened, standing inside my reach, the rapier in her hand shrinking to a small knife, and she pressed it to my throat. "That's two for me," she whispered happily.
Two feet came up, pushed against my chest like a springboard, and Specter drifted away from me, her small knife growing back into a longer sword. I just stared at her while cool blood dripped out of my foot. She's playing a game. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" I murmured.
She, insanely, giggled. "While you do look delicious, Phantom, I highly doubt I'll get to eat you when this is all said and done." Her focus was drawn towards my feet and she pointed with one of her knives. "Interesting little attack you made."
I glanced down as well, watching the fizzling ball of energy waiting in my shadow. Every time a drop of my blood dripped through the air, the emerald sphere curled around the blood, seeming to eat it. "Ew."
"Perhaps," she said vaguely, then attacked without another word. Rapier-like blades sliced at me from every direction. I used the blades to deflect some of them and was forced to resort to a more energy-draining ghost shield to block the rest, constantly retreating backwards. Specter continued to pepper my shield with attacks and I continued to back up, unaware of how close I'd come to the edge of the arena until my back slammed into a wall.
This is not good… I stared at Specter through my flickering and dying ghost shield. Up against the wall, I had no room to move – nowhere to go. The smile on her face had gone from the playful one she'd been wearing when she 'tagged' me earlier to one that glowed with nothing but murderous wrath. I had no doubt in my mind that she was going to kill me with her next attack.
I was still trying to figure out what to do when a huge mass of blue and green fire suddenly burst into the pit and swirled around Specter. I caught a glimpse of her hand, flailing around in the mass of light and energy, and kicked out. My foot slammed into Specter's stomach and sent her reeling, throwing her half-way across the arena. Letting my own shield die and hovering in the air, I watched the huge light wearily, trying to decide if it was going to attack me next.
The incredible collection of small bits of light disintegrated into hundreds of small ghost lights that danced in every direction, scattering around the Pit. One of the green lights hovered next to me for a moment longer than the other. Young oyster, now is your chance to be the walrus.
I didn't think about it, I didn't question it, I just rolled with it. Flinging myself forwards while Specter was still rubbing at her eyes, obviously blinded by the sudden assault of light, I sliced at her chest.
She blocked it. Her eyes closed, tears of pain running down her cheeks, and she still blocked my blade, using my own momentum to send me spinning past her. Almost in slow motion, I watched her other blade slip around her body and come down, aimed perfectly for my neck. I didn't even have a chance to close my eyes before the sharp edge slammed into me.
Pain exploded in my mind.
But, somehow, I wasn't dead. I hovered below her, my feet barely above the snapping power of the ball of energy, and tried to get my mind back in order. My hand came up of its own accord, shaking horribly, convinced that I'd feel a soon-to-be-fatal cut in my neck. Blood would cover my fingers and these few moments would be my last.
Instead, all I felt was a huge slice in the collar around my neck. There was a small bit of blood… but Walker's collar had taken the brunt of the attack. Only a small bit of leather still held it in place around my neck. I never thought I'd be thankful for this horrible thing.
Finally, I remembered to look up. Specter was still blinking rapidly, looking down at me. Her hair was a wild mess, singed and knotted, and her eyes were glowing furiously. "You're still alive?" she said darkly. "Congratulations. But it won't last long." The rapier in her hand flashed in the light, then she threw it at me.
My arms came up and I flickered intangible, feeling the rapier pass right through me. Why the Hell didn't I do that earlier? I screamed in my own mind as Specter twirled down through the air at me. She sliced towards my head but I deflected it, dodging away from her second attack. She followed my backing up, turning it into full-fledged flight. The chase was on.
I raced around the small perimeter of the arena, Specter close on my heels. Every time she'd get close enough to swing her rapier at my feet, I'd twist around and blast her with a burst of ectoplasm, forcing her to back away. After just a few moments she apparently lost patience with the tactic and dropped her rapier, her hands glowing with emerald energy, starting to blast back at me.
Spinning and twisting left and right to avoid getting hit, we dashed around the small Pit. Still-smoldering burn marks started to cover the walls, the ghost shield overhead sparkling with the excess energy it was being forced to absorb. The crowd screamed with delight every time a blast nearly hit either one of us, growing into a raucous mob that was flooded into the air above the ghost shield.
A few blasts in quick succession sent me diving perilously close to the shield as I glanced back at the furious ghost behind me. This had gone on long enough. I need to do something and get out of this before she kills me. I had no doubt that she would be able to… if she ever managed to get a grip on me again.
I spun, suddenly changing directions. With the speed she was going in one direction and how fast I was headed in the other, I passed over her before she had time to react. Her eyes followed my move with surprise, widening when my hands clamped around her ankles. I jerked her to a complete stop, ignoring the scream of pain in my shoulders, and started to spin. Twirling around like a centrifuge, she snarled angrily and struggled, trying to kick at my hands. When I finally lost my grip, she went flying, slamming painfully hard into a wall.
The masses of ghost lights suddenly converged again, swarming around her head. She screamed in frustration, blasting one of the lights into motes of dust.
I kicked out, catching her shoulder and sending her skidding along the wall. When she came to a stop, she crouched on the wall, new ghostly rapiers appearing in her hands. "I will kill you," she hissed, her eyes a soulless green, the pupils no longer able to be seen. She kicked off and sliced at me with both of the rapiers.
It was a sloppy attack – I dodged it easily, twisted around, and planted a double-fisted hit between her shoulder blades as she passed by. With a strangled scream, she dropped through the air.
We weren't nearly high enough anymore. Before she had time to recover, her body hit the ground. The zapping energy, still waiting to attack, pounced. Her small form was almost instantly covered in emerald flares of light, highlighting the way she convulsed and writhed on the ground.
I landed a distance away from her, my breath rasping in my throat, my legs feeling like jelly. I was a lot more tired from the fight than I'd expected – I wouldn't be able to last much longer in this fight. Dragging my eyes away from the shuddering form of my opponent, I focused on what I was going to do next.
I needed to get past the ghost shield and get free of this damned place.
Taking a deep breath, I crouched low to the ground, coiling my strength, willing myself to have the energy to do this. I suddenly pushed myself off the ground, flying head-first for the center of Walker's shield, throwing open the throttle and going as fast as I could.
I had to be going fast for this to work. I would only be able to hold the transformation back to human for a moment. In that hairs-breadth of time, I would need to get completely through the ghost shield. If I was going too slow, I could be trapped half-way. I'd lose my legs… or worse.
Reaching my top speed in just a few body lengths, I barely had time to blink before the shield was right there. I triggered the transformation, squeezing my eyes shut and praying.
If my timing was even slightly off, I would slam into the shield at over two hundred miles an hour and break my neck… or get trapped in the shield. If my timing was perfect and I was really lucky, I would reach the other side of the shield before I slipped back into my hybrid form.
Then I'd only have the entirety of Walker's forces and Walker himself in the way.
But, any way this worked out – make it through the shield or not – I figured the fight was definitely over.
…remember way back in the first chapter when I told you my entries stop at the end of a fight?
To be continued…
I'm just going to thank my reviewers… then run and hide. That was an admittedly evil place to end this. One more chapter (and an epilogue) to go…
Thanks Kit turned Mighty, Chopee, the weirdo reader, Nylah, kdm13, The Feral Candy Cane, FreakLevel27, Chaos Dragon, Anne Camp aka Obi-Quiet, Nair, KareBare, Kinoshita Kristanite, Enray, Lockblade, Invader Johnny, skitzofrenic, BluFox15, New Ghost Girl, Cotswold, dragon of spirits, Hiei's Cute Girl, ImmortalPhantom22, CatalystOfTheSoul, moonlightwaterdragon, Writer's-BlockDP, Keahi Spitfire, bloodmoon13, Thuderstorm101, Nicky-Pickle-25, and katiesparks!
Neat little extra to keep you from killing me. :D
I get a lot of people that say I'm a good writer. The truth is, people, I'm a horrible writer. I just happen to be a good EDITOR. You normally get the pleasure of reading the third or fourth draft of what I write.
Here is, for your laughing enjoyment, three paragraphs of the fight with Specter from my first draft. Note that these three paragraphs eventually become nine – almost a full page.
But not dead. He hovered below her, the ghost busy trying to get rid of the ghost lights, trying to get his mind back in order. My hand comes up shakily, feeling the huge slice in the collar. The slice felt like it had gone through most of it, only a small bit of leather still holding it in place. Looks up at ghost as the lights scatter. Her hair is a mess, singed and knotted, her eyes flashing and furious. She attacks, throwing a sword at me. He go intangible, the sword passing right through him. She slices at him, he deflects and the chase is on.
They race around the pit, dodging each other's attacks. The battle was even. Danny throws balls of ectoplasm behind him, her ducking. Burn marks covered the walls, the ghost shield sparkling with the excess energy. She blasts back at me, making me spin and juke to avoid getting hit. The crowd going nuts.
On pass next to the stands had him diving dangerously close to the shield to avoid a rather large ectoball. He spins, suddenly changing direction, he passes over her before she had time to react, her eyes following his sudden move with surprise. Grabbing her feet as he passed, he jerked to her a stop and into a spin. Twirling her like a centerfugue, he tossed her into the wall. Distracted, the ghost lights swarm around her, singing her head. She screams, blasting one of the lights into motes of dust that vanish into the lights of the pit.