AN: Another chapter already. To be honest, I'm not quite sure where this is going. Review!
Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of typing this, but considering the fact that I could get in trouble, I will anyway.
You know the drill. I don't own anything. Yep.
I could tell Phantom was struggling as he tried to pull the flaps back on the map and figure out where we needed to go. He held a look of determination, yet I could see in his apple eyes that he was worried. Deeply worried-and I could only wonder what this Plasmius had done to him.
"I think we're getting close to the door we'll exit through. It'll take us to New York-Central Park, actually." He was in concentration, and I couldn't help but say something back.
"But shouldn't we find a door that's closer to-"
"No. It's close enough, and we want to lead Plasmius on a goose chase. Since it's in a different state, we'll be able to make our way back undetected."
I didn't feel like arguing, and instead I turned to look around us. According to Phantom, there were different 'domains' of ghosts who resided in the Ghost Zone. Even without the map, I could make an assumption of who lived where.
"Damn!" Phantom's curse broke my thoughts, and I looked back at him.
"What?" I asked, irritated. But turning to see where his eyes were told me all I needed to know.
It wasn't just one this time-it was a whole regime. I'd say about seventeen different ghosts made a barricade, blocking our way.
"I, Technus, declare you give up ghost!" A geeky-looking man who stood in the front shouted out, his hand pointing at Phantom. At first I didn't understand the gesture, until his other hand pushed a button on the watch on his wrist, shooting a beam that Phantom had told me was ectoplasmic energy.
Phantom dodged, his eyes still surveying the line. He started speaking, but it was when I realized how soft his voice was that I understood he was speaking to me.
"Looks like we're going to take a different way out."
"But where?"
"We'll go through a temporary portal. The map tells me how long I have until it closes. We'll go through at the last second, so they can't follow."
"But that could spit us out anywhere!"
"It's the only option. Why are you so ignorant?"
Our argument was interrupted as another, a woman with glowing flames for hair, stepped forward.
"Hey, lovebirds, give it up. You can't win. You're outnumbered." I could tell the term she used offended Phantom, too, because at the same time we both shouted "We're not lovebirds!"
"Whatever. We're blocking your only way out. Plasmius wouldn't want his experiment damaged, so why don't you just give up?" This time I saw a shadowy figure with a cloak. The voice sounded feminine, but I couldn't see the face.
"And what if I don't comply?" I could tell Phantom was stalling, because he glanced down at the map again to check his time. What the ghosts didn't realize was that there was a portal slowly disappearing to the left of them.
"Then you'll fear my boxes of doom!" A small, chubby man who held a box was speaking, but by the groans of the others, he apparently wasn't a real threat.
"That's just what I needed to hear." Phantom launched, diving to the portal. The ghosts thought he was trying to break their line, apparently, because they dispersed. By the time they realized that we were escaping, we were already through the portal. I felt it close just as my foot slipped through.
Bright blue greeted my eyes, and I was relieved to know that we had indeed made it back to the human world.
I turned around to look at where we had come from, and to my surprise, I saw a huge billboard advertising a restaurant-one I knew. The Nasty Burger was a popular burger joint when I was younger, and I was surprised that it was still around. But was more miraculous was the fact that we were, in fact, in Amity Park.
"I guess we ended up here because there's such paranormal activity in this city," Phantom mumbled. He apparently was thinking the same thing I was.
It was weird, seeing this place after I had vowed never to return twelve years ago, forcing my parents to move us to a more rural area. Most of it was the same, with the exception of more buildings and less parks. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. One of the reasons I hated this place was because it cared nothing for its wildlife or ecosystem. Everything was about industrialization, and it sickened me that they destroyed forests and parks for factories that polluted our world.
No wonder I'm a vegan Animal Activist.
"Okay, so assuming your house is still standing, where is it?" His voice broke my reverie, and I had to think a few seconds before comprehending what he had asked.
"The biggest house in the city is the easiest way to describe it," I said simply, which earned me a strange look.
"That really doesn't-" But I cut him off by pointing at the mansion, the only mansion in the town. His mouth opened slightly, but he hid his disbelief quickly and headed towards my old house.
I could see twisting vines that had encased the ivory, but even so, it still looked like it was in good condition. I figured he would set me down and break through the front door, but he just kept flying at it, and I braced myself for impact, not knowing what had come over him.
We never hit; instead, we phased right through the front door, and I choked back my surprise as he set me down inside the house.
My eyes looked around, recalling everything as if I had never left. Dust was accumulating on the furniture, but other than that, everything was as if someone was still living here. My parents had enough money that we could start all over, and we didn't even need to move furniture. I had insisted that we start clean, and they agreed, hoping it would change my outlook on life. Tough luck for them.
I touched the railing of the staircase softly, and memories flooded my head. But I had to push them away. I couldn't get caught up, not with a ghost watching my every move.
"So, you used to live here?" I could tell he felt awkward in the silence, but I didn't mind.
"We moved out when I was nine. I insisted it, actually. But yes, this was my first house."
"You must have been one lucky kid," he responded, still looking around at all the design that was put into my old house.
"Not really. My parents hated the fact that I was antisocial and that I liked darkness. They tried to force their superficial happiness on me. I wasn't like them, and they resented me for it. I usually spent time with my grandmother or by myself."
"So you were always this sour?" I ignored the stab, turning back to him.
"If you were raised in the environment I was, you would understand."
He left it at that, and I was glad, because I really didn't feel like arguing any more.
"So, where are we staying exactly?"
"I guess you can stay in the guest room, and I'll stay in my old room, if my parents didn't come back to destroy it," I replied thoughtfully, heading up the staircase.
We reached the second floor, and I looked down the long hallway. I walked past the master bedroom and headed for the second door on the left: my old room.
It was exactly like I had left it. The walls were a deep purple, the curtains were black, and my bedspread was black atop a king-size bed. The one thing I had, however, forgotten was the artwork that hung around my walls. Many scratch pictures were tacked on my walls-pictures that sent me into a part of my memories I hadn't wanted to recollect.
As I approached the closest picture, I saw vivid blue eyes standing out on the white paper, covered with messy black hair. I guess I was a pretty good artist back then, because the drawing depicted him the way I remembered him, right down to his goofy, child-like smile.
I remembered the time I had been drawing that certain picture. He was bouncing on my bed, rambling on about something. He noticed I wasn't paying attention, and he came over and looked at what I was drawing.
"Wow, that's really good! It looks like me."
"Thanks! Maybe I'll become an artist or something," I said jokingly. He laughed, too, and smiled.
"Why are you drawing it though?"
"I don't know. I guess so I can always remember what you look like."
That picture was drawn the day before the other ghost took him away.
I could feel my eyes getting wet, and I quickly tried to hide it. Sam Manson did not cry.
"Who is that?" I could hear Phantom's voice somewhere, but I was still in my thoughts.
"His name was Danny. He was a ghost. My best friend when I was a kid." My voice was distant-like it wasn't really me talking, like someone else had said it for me.
"Wait-you were friends with a ghost?" I could hear the disbelief in his voice, and it angered me slightly.
"No one accepted me at school. He did. Whenever I got in a fight with my parents, he was there to make me feel better." I'm not quite sure why I got so worked up-I was eight when he left. But still, he was my first friend. And I couldn't forget that.
"What happened to him?"
"He was taken away by another ghost. He never came back." I slowly backed away from the picture, taking one last look into those piercing blue eyes.
Phantom sighed slightly, and I figure that he felt he shouldn't press the matter anymore.
"It's weird-for some reason it feels like I've been here before, but I know I couldn't have. Plasmius had me for many, many years." It was the first time he really spoke about what had happened to him, and maybe I was going to be able to get somewhere with his past.
"What happened? What did he do to you?" I thought he was going to leave my questions open. He didn't say anything for the longest time. Then he exhaled, sitting down on my bed.
"I can't really remember what my life was like before Plasmius took me. Maybe it was because he ran so many experiments that he cleared my memories from the past. I don't even know how I died.
"I think he used to be a multi-millionaire or something, because where he took me was huge. He had a hidden laboratory, and that was where he kept me. Every day he would try different things, and he would write what he was doing down in a journal. I'm not sure if it was just me, or if he had other experiments too. One I can remember pretty clearly.
"He kept me in a jail-like chamber that was ghost-proof. He came to get me, and quickly injected something into me, which was weird, because I didn't think that was possible. He then strapped me on a table and sent me into this hole in his wall.
"The hole was a portal, and apparently he needed me to get it to work. When he turned it on, I felt like someone was electrocuting me. I realized that ghosts could experience just as much pain as humans, but it's worse, because we can't die again. I passed out, and when I woke up, Plasmius was prodding me, 'hmm'ing and 'ahh'ing. I vaguely remember him call in Skulker, the robotic ghost that we met earlier, and tell him that he genetically engineered another like himself, which apparently was something big, because Skulker gasped.
"I'm not sure why Plasmius wants me back, but I know I need to get a hold of that book that he wrote in in order to understand what happened to me." He finished, and my mouth was open at this point.
I had no idea that he had such a violent past, and for once I felt sympathy for the ghost. No wonder he was crotchety. All he can remember is pain and suffering.
I sat down on the bed as well, and my eyes dropped to the floor.
"We can get that book, if you know how to get to the house. But wouldn't he be staying there?"
"That's the problem. Even if he wasn't there, he'd have it guarded heavily. He knows that I'm after it. He knows I want to know about my past, and what he did that is so astounding."
"Tell me-was he a true business man?"
"I'd assume. Why?" He was confused at this point, and I felt like a million dollars. I thought I had just figured out a loophole.
"If he's up-to-date with technology, which I would assume because he has an advanced technological ghost, that said ghost would have advised him to make a copy of his experiments and his journal, and put it somewhere that would always be around, even if the book was stolen."
"That makes sense-I remember Technus always telling him to reinforce his stuff. But the copy would be hidden in his house, just as protected as the original."
"I think that's where you're wrong. Technus would have assured Plasmius that there was a safer idea than a material copy. He would have told him to upload his files to a computer."
A look of realization washed over Phantom's face, and I held a smug smirk of accomplishment.
"And I know just the person to get the files."