Okay guys, this is PATHETIC. Why no reviews? It's not that bad. I mean, I hate writing this story, but I think it is at least worthy of perhaps one review? And it's going to get better from now on. I mean come on, Danny just whispered "Sam?" in the previous chapter. Don't you want to find out what happens in the next chapter, which in fact is Danny's? Because you won't find out if you don't review. The reason I hate writing this story is because I don't get ANY reviews at ALL. I can't be bothered writing this story. But I write it for my own sake now. So if you may perhaps want this story to go on (because, let me tell you, it gets way better) then you'd better review. You guys are not motivating me here.

Vortex of Deception

Chapter Six

When Jessica slowly cracked open her eyes for the first time that morning, she was disconcerted. She couldn't remember a single thing from the day before. She knew that she had done something, had woken up and gone about her day, but she couldn't remember any details. She couldn't remember what she'd had for dinner, and couldn't remember what she had spent the entire day doing.

All she could remember that was even remotely connected to the day before was a strange dream that she had had. She had dreamed that she was sitting in a dark room, crying over the death of something familiar yet at the same time completely unknown. Despite how hard she might try to rack her brain for more details of this death, she couldn't bring anything up. It was as if this thing had never even existed.

There had also been a boy. But he had been in the shadows – she hadn't been able to see his appearance.

"Jessica?"

She looked around herself in a daze as she heard her sister whisper her name. "Izzy, where are you?" Jessica muttered.

Her sister's anxious face came into view. Her honey blonde curls were a mess and there were rings beneath her azure eyes. She looked as if she had been awake all night, stressing over something. Jessica was mostly worried but also slightly curious. What had happened that had turned her sister into such a wreck?

"I'm here, darling sister." Izzy whispered, her tired eyes relieved.

Had Izzy been worrying about Jessica all night? But that must've meant that something terrible had occurred either during or before she went to sleep. So why didn't Jessica herself remember? If something terrible had happened to her, shouldn't she at least feel the after effects?

"What's wrong?" Jessica sat up in her bed – there was no pain. The only strain she was feeling was in her eyes because she had just awoken.

Izzy smiled dismissively. "Oh, it's nothing. You just gave me a bit of a scare, that's all." Izzy assured her baby sister.

Jessica rubbed her eyes sleepily as she looked around her bedroom. It was becoming slightly familiar to her now. "But how did I give you a scare? Oh Izzy, I don't remember anything and it's so terrible!" Jessica cried. "Please, please tell me. I'm so torn."

Izzy's relieved expression now turned into one of panic. "You don't remember anything? What do you mean? But… you recognised me! You recognised your own name! Oh Jessica dear I don't understand you at all," Izzy cried.

"I don't remember anything from yesterday," Jessica explained calmly. "I don't remember last night. I don't remember why you're so freaked out. Please do explain."

Izzy was no longer panicked. In fact, she had recovered from her sudden outburst quite quickly. "Oh, Jessica, I am so glad to hear that! Oh, it was nothing. You just started screaming last night, and then for a while you stopped breathing. The doctor just said it was something to do with the memories you will begin to regain the near future. We're all so glad that you didn't die last night."

"I can't believe I almost died…" Jessica whispered to herself, staring into the distance.

Isabelle Gretchens left the room as Sam Manson began to get changed into slightly decent clothing. Isabelle frowned and yawned – she was not being paid enough to do something like this. It was both mentally and physically exhausting. At least another pawn would take over her job for a few hours while he trained Sam to fight like a warrior. Isabelle knew that it was pointless but they had to keep the game of charades as real as possible until the vows were said.

The vows were the most important detail in this little scheme. Without them, there would be no certainties.

Isabelle removed the wig of blonde hair from her head – she had had to keep it on for the whole night as she had sat at the child's bed and now there was a rash beginning to appear on her scalp. Underneath her hair was naturally dead straight and as black as ashes. She ran her fingers through her hair like a comb and shuffled away from the prisoner's room.

After all, she wouldn't be able to explain why she had black hair when Sam's was the colour of the early sunset.

She walked slowly down the long hall, avoiding the gazes of the people that she passed. She was not a very friendly person. She was the leader of this so-called village but she had never even spoken to the man who was her own 'brother'. In fact, he hadn't been paid to be a big role in 'Jessica's' life.

They were all actors on a set.

The pay wasn't very good but there was no way that they could back out of it now. After all, where could they possibly go? The ones that they loved were in a completely different place, and were unreachable by the actors. They had been foolish to allow themselves to be hired for this so-called 'movie'.

Isabelle knew that her wages were pathetic. She knew that she deserved to be paid more than a mere janitor for the role that she was to play. She had even had to use her own energy to supply that stupid mind-erasing helmet. That was why she had been so exhausted when Sam had woken up. She had had to make up some bogus story on the spot and hope that the memory-less girl would buy it. She had.

Many times Isabelle had almost made careless mistakes – many times had she almost called the girl by her real name. But she knew that she couldn't afford to make mistakes – after all, look what had happened to the poor man named Robert. He had been killed because he had merely mentioned the name Danny Phantom. It was horrifying.

She finally reached the end of the hallway and arrived at a massive redwood door. There was an enormous gold star painted right in the centre of the door. Isabelle took a deep breath, raised her fist – and knocked three times. She waited patiently at the door despite the racing beat of her heart. She wouldn't let herself be intimidated by this person, despite his cruel demeanour.

The door swung open slowly and Isabelle swallowed loudly as she realised that there was no one on the other side – the door had opened itself. Although it may have been an automated door, Isabelle didn't think that that was likely. After all, many strange things happened around her boss.

"Isabelle."

She didn't react as she heard her name being called out from a nearby room. It was dark and hard to see but she managed to make her way towards the direction of the sound. She felt herself enter a cold, musty room that smelt oddly like mushrooms. There were a few candles burning confidently, scattered around the room, supplying the room with only just enough light to make out the silhouette of a man.

She bowed low before hesitantly approaching him.

"Isabelle, my dear, please, take a seat."

The man lit another candle, this time one directly in front of his face. The man was Vlad.

Jessica had been taken from her bedroom as soon as she had gotten changed and had been led directly to a patch of sunlight for the first time since she had awoken. Or the first time she had remembered. The grass was bright green and neatly clipped. She had the urge to lie down and roll around in it but assumed that it would not be permitted.

She had been accompanied by a large, stocky man with long red hair and a red beard. His face looked as though it would be forever dirty, even after a good scrub. He carried a long sword in a sheath around his waist and daggers in his wrist guards. He hid two small daggers in his boots and in his shirt. He had shown Jessica all of these weapons upon meeting her. She had been instantly terrified – she had predicted that he had come to execute her. Luckily, he had been wrong.

He had come to tell her that she was to be trained as a warrior by he himself.

"Jessica," he growled at me as he led me towards a small wooden hut. It looked as though it were about to fall down. "I will outfit you properly before we begin. You will not touch a weapon until you have passed a series of short yet incredibly important tests. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jessica saluted him.
"None of that, now," he muttered gruffly. "None of the saluting, that is. I am only your instructor, not your leader. Salute at someone like, I don't know, Ollie. And none of the sir. When you address me, you address me as Redbeard."

"Yes, master Redbeard." She knew that it was necessary to show her obedience and did so proudly.

"I suppose that'll do for now." He rummaged around inside the small hut for a while until he had finally found what he had been looking for. "Hope it fits."

He tossed something at her which she caught with a grunt. She held it up in front of her and grimaced in disgust – it was a sweaty pair of brown pants and a filthy white shirt. She reminded herself that she must show obedience and meekly raised her hand.

"What is it?" Redbeard demanded before spitting onto the ground.
Jessica looked at the gob of saliva in disgust. "Um, master Redbeard, may I ask where I would possibly be able to change?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Fine. I'll turn my back. But if you're not changed in twenty seconds, too bad."

Jessica stared at him in horror. She couldn't imagine having ever lived in such a manner – where the boys and girls intermingled so carelessly. When she thought of her life, she imagined nice, modern rooms with modern people who wouldn't let a girl and boy sit in a room, alone, for more than two minutes without getting suspicious. And now she was expected to change in the big wide outdoors?

But she wearily did so. As soon as he had turned his back, she stripped off and put on the never-washed gear that he had given her. She wasn't sure what to do with the clothes she had originally been wearing so she just left them in a pile on the grass.

"Okay, that's twenty," Redbeard turned around and settled is eyes upon Jessica's delicate face. She looked as though she had never done a day of hard work in her entire life. "Okay, these tests are just going to consist of running and jumping, basic stuff like that. We're just planning on restoring you to your previous abilities for the next few weeks. After that, if you do not recall everything already, we may consider teaching you to fight. But it's only a possibility."

Jessica smiled at him nervously. She herself didn't know what her abilities were. She didn't know if she was a talented runner or talented at lifting up heavy objects. She wasn't sure about how far she could throw or how high she could jump. And unfortunately, she had had no preparation time.

"Okay Jessica, first we must warm up. Do you remember our methods for warming up?"

"No, master Redbeard, I don't." She answered clearly as she stared into his dark brown eyes.

He rolled his shoulders until he heard one give a satisfactory pop. "Okay, well today I suppose we'll focus on your running skills. So we're going to have to warm up your legs, for a start."

Jessica was hot and sweaty by the time Redbeard had finished with her. Her legs and her back ached – all she wanted was a nice hot bath to sooth her painful limbs. But instead of being granted that one wish, she was instructed to change back into her everyday clothes and quickly neaten herself up – Izzy was about to give an important announcement.

Jessica was led back to her room where she changed into new clothes – her old ones had grass stains on them and were slightly wet – and retrieved her hair brush. She ran it through her bright orange hair and grunted in disappointment. It was not going to cooperate with her. She desperately needed to wash it.

But there was no time for that. A knock came at her door as she was ordered to return to the yard. Once she arrived there, she saw a small gathering of people and nervously approached the group. One member, her mate whose name she could not remember, saw her and his face lit up with happiness.

He walked over to her and greeted her with a kiss just as Izzy called for quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announced in her melodic voice. "I have come here today to proudly announce our wonderful news. In but two weeks our fledglings, Jessica and the Young Knight Jonathon, shall be wed. This is good news, people, and I offer the happy couple my congratulations."

Happy? Jessica's gut was a roiling pit of sorrows. The prospect of marrying this Jonathon was not only scaring Jessica, it was also hurting her. She winced as she felt a knife go through her heart.

I'm not going to hold my breath until I get a review. That'd be stupid. But please. One? Just one. Only one of you has to actually get off of your lazy butt and say something. And I don't even mind if you tell me how much you hate this story. At least it's a comment. Constructive critism, people!? I need it. Desperately.
These Danny Phantom stories are like exercises for me. I need to get into the habit of writing once again. And then I will write proper stories. How exciting. But first, I want to get my average words per story up to 10,000...

Review.

An aching backed achilles tendon Kirstyn.