Helping a Hero

A/N: Okay, I'm just going to ask everyone to keep Dallas, TX, in your hearts and prayers. There was a massive attack on the police force at a peace rally for other shootings going on in America. This has been the worst attack on officers in America since the events of 9/11 with seven officers shot and injured and five officers announced dead. Also we need to remember the two men who were gunned down in Louisiana and Minnesota of whom the peace rally was for. We need to remember that this issue with race is not a reason to cut countless lives off in their prime. This isn't a debate about whether the protesters or the police officers are right or wrong. I'm just pointing out that all lives matter: no matter the race, religion, or country of origin. There is no reason to kill people when we can change things with words. Remember: "The pen is mightier than the sword."

I'm sorry for ranting, but this has really upset me and I'm not even in Texas right now. All those families and lives destroyed because one man had to play as God. It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it.

Ch. 6- Meeting New Faces

Phantom P.O.V: 9:35 AM, Compound, Room 187

I've got to come up with a plan if I want to make it until lunch.

Okay, there are ten lasers coming from the ceiling and a giant robot determined to have a Fenton shish-cabob. What's a guy whose normal superhuman powers are being restrained by an ectoplasmic disrupter supposed to do? Well I—.

Gotta' move, right now!

I roll out of the way of the oncoming laser and stop in a crouch low to the ground. Then I take off at a run for the robot and as it launches itself at me, I jump up onto the arm and run precariously up to its shoulder to kick the laser that was next to it. I just got to knock it off of its perch and then maybe this insane grid shooting would slow down and I won't die.

It would be really good if I don't die.

The laser spins around on the axis holding it up; I must have loosened it from its bolts. That's good.

What's not good is that every single time it sees me when it turns, it shoots erratically. It reminds me a bit of Dad's shooting actually. More specifically, when Dad was aiming at me. But that's okay, I can work with that.

And it apparently wants to work with me because just as I'm about to be knocked to my admittedly very-prepared-for demise by the very robot I'm doing a funny little dodging-dance on the laser shoots the robot in the head blowing up the upper part of the robot's left eye and, I presume, some of the robot's circuitry.

I say presume because what happens next was actually fun, but not in the "I just went to the fair" way, it was more like "I just survived the roller-coaster that thirty people have died on" way. So not very fun and more terrifying than anything.

The robot, for lack of a better word, "spazzed" out. Literally. The arms started shooting randomly at the walls and me…oh and those pesky lasers that were still trying to kill me. Not to mention the fact that it started running around in circles. Let me just tell you: not fun.

I was holding on for dear life when everything shut down. I had found the indention that the laser had made on the robots face to hold on after my *ahem* carefully thought out plan went to hell.

I didn't even know that the chaos had stopped until everything went silent. Like creepy, horror-movie silent.

After I worked up the courage to peek away from the robot's head (that I was so totally not clinging to), I noticed why everything had stopped—including the robot. We, the robot and I that is, were about to feet from crashing into the wall. Left shoulder first. Phantom, in very vulnerable human form, first.

I would have died and I wouldn't have even noticed. Some hero I am. I can't even save myself.

"Phantom, get off of the training robot."

A mechanical voice over the intercom breaks me out of my self-pity. I glance over to the black intercom in the corner of the room and then to the viewing wall, where there is probably a whole bunch of people is writing down and discussing my new failure. If there had been civilians—.

"Phantom, do not make me repeat an order." That cold mechanical voice is back.

Right, focus. Nothing is going to change what just happened. Focus. I look down from my perch on the robot's shoulder and mentally make a path before I start climbing down. It's hard, but not impossible. I make it down in under ten minutes, but in that time the door to this particular training room opened at least three times. I'm facing the robot's leg when the voice appears again.

"Phantom, keep facing the robot and put your hands above your head." What is up with them talking like I can't understand them? Phantom do this, Phantom do that. Did they think I planned to do that? It's hard not to feel at least a bit of pride that they would think that I'd rather by dead, fully dead, than to spend another minute in this hell-hole. I comply with their demands anyway.

Though I have to admit, I am rather curious about why they don't want me moving. I can hear several different footsteps all walking towards me and the robot towards the back of the room. At least three sounds military, you can tell by the way their gait is even and almost silent. The next two must be some of the scientists because they're the ones shuffling their feet and shifting nervously. Another is a woman, not one who works here either. She must be important—I mean why else would she wear stilettos in a place like this?

My curiosity gets the best of me and I carefully turn my head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of what's behind me. There! Out of the corner of my I can see several different people. I was right about the two scientists, and the fact that they do appear nervous to be this close to me. There were two guards, Plasma Tasers at the ready, who were (you guessed it) guarding the two strangers in the room.

The first conclusion that I could definitely make about them was that they were most definitely rich. The second was that they were not here for any reason that benefited me. I came to these conclusions because they were dressed rich and looked like they were mean. Not kidding, they were wearing high-class name brand clothes that would send Sam screeching about the environment. And I guess I can't really say that the man looked mean, he looked more like a B-class movie villain, with the bald head and a sleazy smirk that said "everything is going to go according to my plan." The lady looked nicer than him. Well if you count the fact that she wouldn't lie about attempting to kill me "nicer."

"Turn around Phantom. Slowly." The guards tensed at the order projected at me and I turned around as slowly as possible, making every movement visible. It's like the guards thought that at the first chance I got, I would try to kill them.

They're not wrong. Well…maybe not kill, but I would hurt them pretty badly. Not today though, I've got on this handy-dandy ectoplasmic disrupter that won't let me rip their arms off of their body. Too bad.

When I'm finally turned around, I study my "guests" in more detail. Now that I'm looking at them head on, I can see that the lady is standing slightly in front of the man and glaring at me. Almost like—oh, she's guarding the man from any sort of threat that I can make to the man. I glare back at her for a minute before getting amused at the fact that at the moment she could probably take me head on and beat me. Stupid ecto-disrupter could get me killed. The man on the other hand is standing with his hands behind his back steadily looking me up and down. The image reminds me of "uncle" Vlad, and suddenly I feel very vulnerable in my human form.

When he finishes looking at me like I'm some sort of prized race horse he nods dismissively and turns to the scientist beside him holding a clip board and trying his very hardest not to seem nervous, whether from me or Richie Rich.

"I'm assuming his name is Phantom?" the man asks with just that bit of condemnation in his voice.

"Yes, sir, that's the only name that he responds to." The scientist whom I now recognize is the scientist that is over all of my training exercises responds with a bit more confidence in his voice than what his body language projects. I read his the name on his tag, Dr. Roberts. I'll remember Dr. Roberts' name for later.

"Really?" The man turns to look at me and then says, "Phantom, put your hands down."

This felt like some sort of test or trap. I look at the small crowd staring at me and then slowly put my hands down, unsure if I am supposed to follow the man's orders or not. After a minute or so of not getting shocked, I start to relax, that position with my hands in the air was starting to get a bit tiring.

The man nods a bit to himself after my hands are down and then with a bit of skepticism and sarcasm in his voice he turns to Dr. Roberts and says, "Doctor, what can you tell me about this 'Phantom.'" It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

The doctor started out slow, but halfway through speaking his eyes were bursting with enthusiasm and a bright smile was on his face, "Well, Mr. Luthor, as far as we know Phantom is the only one of his kind. He is an ectoplasmic entity that can take on human form and needs what we need to live, but also the raw ectoplasm from his home dimension to survive. It was tough at the beginning to adjust our facilities and staff to acquaint to his needs, but through trial and error we have figured out the best way to deal with his rather disconcerting abilities and train him rather effectively." Here he stops to take a breath and after a moment of thought he shakes his head like a disapproving parent, "Though as you saw earlier his human form is much more of a liability than his ectoplasmic form. We have ran him through plenty of tests, but what he can do easily in his Phantom form, he has trouble doing in his human form. It is a bit of a conundrum that—."

The now dubbed "Mr. Luthor" stops him from continuing and, with a bit more cynicism in his voice than earlier, asks, "His abilities?"

The doctor nods his head nervously at Mr. Luthor, "Right. Phantom currently has a total mastery of 11 of his abilities and three abilities that we are still working on with him. Though at the speed with which he developed these new abilities over the past two months it places credence in the fact that his appearance looks so…juvenile. This means that he could gain more at any given time as he progresses with age." Mr. Luthor waves his hand at him with an exasperated look, motioning for him to get on with it, "Right. Phantom has full mastery over flight, invisibility, intangibility, overshadowing, super-strength, cryokinesis, limited manipulation of forms, full manipulation of ectoplasmic energy, and enhanced senses and reflexes. We theorize that if he were to go up against Superman with just brute strength alone Phantom would win."

"What did I say about talking about him? He's caused enough headaches already. It just wouldn't due to have that brute hear you say his name and bust down the wall to find our new project." Mr. Luthor sent Dr. Roberts an annoyed glare and rubbed his forehead to prove his point.

This is worse than the nightmare scenario that just took place with the giant robot and lasers. It sounds as though Mr. Luthor doesn't want Superman, one of the greatest hero's ever, to find me. That understandably points out that Mr. Luthor is a bad guy. I'm standing in front of a bad guy and I'm powerless to do anything about it.

"Anyways," Mr. Luthor made that hand motion again, getting back both the doctor's and my attention, "That's only ten, what is his eleven power?"

"Oh," the doctor looked away quite flustered, "well, though we haven't been able to fully test this one it is a blast of sound quite like Black Canary's cry, but at least five times as powerful and very destructive. The problem with testing this is that Phantom can only do it once every week or so because it uses up so much of his depleted ectoplasmic energy. It causes a lot of stress on his body and he's not able to properly operate. We would need to bring him outside to see how destructive the wail actually is, but that would alert all the superheroes to Phantom's existence."

"Yes," Mr. Luthor smirked and looked back to where I stood silent and still as a statue, "and we wouldn't want that would we?"

A/N: I know I said I was going to update on Saturdays, but with me taking such an extended break and everyone waiting on me to update, I felt that I had a responsibility to update again to make it up to you guys. The next update will be on August 6 so I should have at least three more chapters wrote so that I can focus on school, which sadly starts August 11.

Published: 7/08/16