Danny gasped, a cold sweat shining on his forehead as he looked around in a panic. His heart rammed into his chest as he, ever so slowly, came to the realization that he was in his room, underneath his blankets, with no destruction in sight. Another, damned, night terror. Truthfully, Danny was starting to wonder if those sleeping pills were causing this. Shaking his head, Danny pulled his blankets off of his body, and carefully crept towards his bathroom, still unsure if he was still asleep or not.
When he finally reached the shut door, he took a deep breath. He told himself that no one would be there, waiting for him with a twisted grin. No one would be standing there, ready to murder his family, his friends, and him in cold blood. No one would be there, to remind him of the inevitable. No one would be there… no one would be there… No one was there.
Danny released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, before he flicked on the lights and stepped inside. Once the door was shut behind him, Danny's nervous gaze flicked up to the mirror, and he flinched. He was a mess.
His raven hair was soaked, and stuck to his forehead, while his pajamas were also drenched in a cold sweat. The, normally lively, blue eyes Danny held might as well have been grey with the sorrow they showed, and his skin was paler than a ghost's ever could be.
Or, in three words, he looked sick. In fact, not only did Danny look sick, but he also felt sick, and this had been going on for months now. The night terrors, the increased paranoia, the feeling of dread as he waited for his ghost sense to go off everyday, it was eating him alive and he didn't know why.
For no rhyme or reason, about 3 and a half months ago, he'd started to have nightmares about his evil future self, and thus that caused his brain to see if this was a message, or a sign, of something. With that, the paranoia and dread set in, as he expected to be jumped every time he blinked or breathed. What was worse was the fact that those things had been impossible to hide, leaving his friends to constantly worry over him, and his parents to get a doctor to medicate him. Even worse still, was that it affected his ghost fighting.
Whenever he fought a ghost, Danny's mind would always pause, and force his eyes to see the man from his nightmares emerge, fighting to kill. With the full ghost having that intent, Danny's instincts would take over, and he would do the same, only to later realize he'd just nearly beat someone to a second death. It was terrifying, which really didn't help the cycle of misery caused by terror, and thus Danny would fly off and panic in some back alley, somewhere.
It was a horrible way to be, but Danny wouldn't trade it for anything. He'd rather bare the eternal nightmare of his future looming over his shoulder, than to watch the world bare the eternal suffering as his future ruled over theirs. It was better this way, he always told himself, and managed a small, painful, smile into the mirror.
Peeling away his damp clothes, and throwing them into his laundry basket, Danny took a shower, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. Once he was dawned in his signature clothes, Danny did his best to fix his hair with his hands, before he grabbed his backpack, and made his way into the alleyway beside his house.
He transformed, and took off into the morning air. He'd fly to clear his head, and then head to school while repeating the mantra in his head. 'Dan's not coming back.'
Long fingers, covered by black gloves, traced the edges of the screen showing the present, and allowed a fanged smile to appear on his face. 'Time,' His conscience mused, said conscience being none other than the time-master himself. ', is much more fun to break than protect, I will admit.' Well, almost the time-master.
"Quite." The baritone voice of the ghost spoke out, as he watched 16 year old Danny Fenton fly in circles in the sky. "Of course, much more amusement will arise later, I assure you. Until then, the Observants will arrive in… 3, 2…"
The ghost pulled his hood up, just as two Observants burst through the door, seemingly ready to fight, while they observed the ghost's movements. Said ghost's stance was perfectly docile, and that fact unnerved both of them greatly.
"What have you done to Clockwork?" The first asked, authority lacing his every word.
The ghost yawned, stretching his arms, before he turned to face the two. With the hood, the ghost probably could have passed for Clockwork, had the roaring fire of hair beneath it not shined so brightly.
"I'm sure you could guess." The ghost said, before he amended his statement. "Actually, you probably couldn't. Being invisible to your eyes and being able to control time itself does that, you know."
"Explain yourself." The second Observant said, floating forward.
"Oh, but that would take hours. Though I literally have all the time in every world, I really don't feel like explaining my paradoxical existence to you for half of it. Well… I guess I could at least answer your little question." The ghost smirked, eyes flashing a brighter red, as the ghost of time's voice rang out from his mouth. "I am Clockwork. Though now, I am not bound by your petty rules and guidelines. You will never be able to control me again, and remember, I know this because I know everything."
With that, a blast of ecto energy slammed the two Observants into the wall, effectively sealing them in place. The ghost then floated forward, eyes dimming once more as a smirk played on his face. His fingers were laced together, and he spoke calmly, despite the sadistic intent in his eyes.
"Now, for the sake of appeasing the vengeance that half of me harbors for you, I will now proceed to torture you into obedience. Who would like to go first?" The calm faded to smug madness, as the Observants struggled in their bonds.
"You will never get away with this!" One of the Observants shouted, only to have the ghost lean forward, face a breath away from his, as fury engulfed the ghost's face.
Flaming white hair blew back the hood, as the ghost's fingers turned to claws, and teeth sharpened to an even finer point. "I will get away with this! I will get away with everything! I am the master of time, the master of all existence! But, more importantly,"
The Observants trembled, far more as the ghost became calm than when he was enraged, as they could see their former co-worker behind those red eyes as he moved slightly back, and he was happy. Clockwork was happy being a part of a monster, and was happy to feed Dan his power. Their minds had intertwined themselves too quickly, and too well, to ever be reversed, and that stuck to the Observants's minds as the ghost finished his sentence, a smirk pleasantly placed upon his face.
"I am your master. Now, and forever more, you will be subservient to me, and not the other way around." Clawed fingers fiddled with the knob on his staff, as the ghost watched the Observants.
"The Observants would sooner perish." The dark time master laughed, seeming to fully be the menace known as Dan in that moment, though it was quickly becoming harder to tell.
"Please, you all fear your death. It was never about the ghost zone, nor the ghosts. Hell, it wasn't even about Clockwork! It's about you keeping your petty lives. It's why you instilled the rule, right? To "watch and never act," remember? It's why you hired him in the first place. So you wouldn't have to face any dangers. But now, you will be working for me." The ghost said.
"You cannot make us. Clockwork, some part of you, would never let you do this!" The ghost snickered at those words.
"I highly doubt that. Clockwork was always a neutral ghost, even more so, a neutral ghost that hated you. Dan, meanwhile, was purely sadistic. By adding zero to an alignment of negative infinity, you still get the total of negative infinity." The ghost said, before he added. "You know, the only reason you aren't being tortured or dead yet is because I like seeing your hope dwindling without needing to lift a finger, right?"
The Observants ignored the ghost's words. "That's enough! Clockwork, you are the master of time, and your job is to watch the time-stream-"
"Not anymore. And stop calling me Clockwork. I prefer… The Dark Clock Phantom. Or, for times sake, you will call me Master Dark." With that, the ghost pressed the button on his staff, before tying two time medallions around their necks, like collars. "Now, let's see how long it takes to break you, free of interruptions."
