Rewritten October 2007.

Powerless
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

Chapter Two: The Fool

I'd been on patrol for less than an hour when I ran into her.

I froze in mid-air, staring at the gray-colored girl before me, my mouth dropping open. The ghost had gray hair that hung in dirty dreadlocks, a skin-tight gray shirt and pants, and an oversized, ragged, gray jacket. The jacket fell almost to her knees and the sleeves went well past her fingertips. Below the tattered hem of her jacket, her form melted into mist. Her eyes were a glinting, possessed red.

She looked exactly like the girl I'd drawn in my notebook. "What the…"

I watched in bizarre amazement as she stuffed a hand into one of her pockets and pulled out a small card. She examined it with a small smile before turning it around and showing it to me. The card was carefully painted in beautiful colors, glowing like a stained-glass window with the sun shining through. On the card was a man, struggling to carry a load of large, glowing green sticks.

Licking my lips, I couldn't figure out what to say. I was completely floored. I'd drawn this ghost – exactly – never having seen her before. It was my drawing come to life.

"Ten of Wands," the girl suddenly said, looking me right in the eyes. I blinked, not so much confused that this apparition from my notebook could talk, but just confused as to what she meant. I deal with a lot of really weird stuff on a pretty normal basis. A talking, three-dimensional doodle wasn't anything big.

"Overextending oneself, burdens, struggle," she continued, emphasizing the last word with a raised eyebrow. She held out the card, obviously wanting me to take it from her.

My mind never registered that taking an object from a ghost I'd never met was a bad idea. I was still struggling with the fact that she existed at all. As soon as my fingers touched the spectral card, it dissolved into mist that floated away from her hands and drifted in the air around us for a moment. I coughed at the acrid smell and waved my hand in the air. "What's that?" I sneezed, backing away from her.

The girl sighed, her red eyes fading for a moment into a deep gray. She rummaged around in her pockets and pulled out another card, staring down at it. "Five of cups," she whispered to herself, glancing up into my eyes. "Loss, bereavement, regret." She held out the card, showing a dark figure staring down at a few glowing cups of spilled water, and waited for me to take it.

I stared at her for a few more seconds as her eyes flickered back to red. There was no way I was going to take another card after the first one had dissolved and was doing who-knows-what to my lungs. "Who are you?"

Suddenly she moved, her figure seeming to vanish from one spot and reappear in another. She snatched my wrist and wrenched open my fingers, placing the card in them and smiling at me. Then her form softened and she vanished like mist on a hot summer's day.

"Okay… that was weird." I stared down at the card that had been forced into my fingers. The black-cloaked figure seemed to glow in the evening sky.

Somehow… that had felt like an apology.

I ended up at Sam's house about two hours later after a pit-stop back at my house, my mind whirling with everything that had happened that day. I hesitated outside of her room, completely invisible, debating with myself over what I was doing at Sam's house at nearly nine o'clock.

I needed to talk to someone. I was completely creeped out over everything that had happened today and meeting the girl out of my notebook had been a little scary to say the least. Somehow, the strange things that had been happening to me, what went on in class, and that ghost were connected. But I couldn't figure out how.

I couldn't really talk to Jazz since she'd psychoanalyze me a little too much and didn't know enough about ghosts yet to be really helpful. I could talk to Tucker, he'd probably get the answer the fastest and come up with a solution… but he wasn't really helpful either. I was tense and nervous and anxious. There was only one person in the world that could solve that problem and help me figure out what was going on.

The only problem was that I wasn't sure I could be in the same room with Sam and not trip over myself. I liked liked Sam – I had for awhile – but there was no way I was ever going to let her know. Having Tucker around helped a lot. We could just be friends then. Just me and Sam together… in the same room… I took a deep breath, pushed myself back into the visible realm, and finally knocked on her window.

Just be calm, Fenton. You can handle being in the same room with your best friend. Alone. In her bedroom.

I groaned and shook my head to clear my thoughts, glancing through the window. Sam was sitting on her bed, a thick book in her hands, her fingers tangled in her hair. She glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow and silently nodding that I could come in. Sliding through the window, I landed lightly on the ground. How was I going to say everything (well, almost everything) that was going through my head?

"How was your walk home?" she asked, her voice extremely pleasant.

I winced, my mind jumping gears as I remembered that I'd left Sam and Tucker at school without any sort of explanation and she was probably really mad at me right now. "Um…" My mouth went dry as I tried to figure out what kind of apology would work best.

She pushed a piece of loose, black hair behind one of her ears and dropped her hand back into her lap. I followed her fingers before snapping my eyes back up to hers. They were a blazing violet in the dim light, ringed with red.

"I needed some time to think." I played with the object I'd picked up from my room while I waited for her answer.

The silence coming off of her was painful. The last thing in the world I wanted was for Sam to be mad at me. "And…" she drawled.

"And it didn't help." I took a small step forwards, trying for a small smile. "Look. I'm sorry for ditching you at school, but something really weird is going on and I needed to sort it out."

"And since you can't," she said, her voice still pleasant, but she snapped her book closed angrily on the can't, "you came running back to your friends."

I shook my head helplessly, searching for words. I'd never been very eloquent, but lately being around Sam made all the words fall out of my mind. "No, that's not it."

Her book came up and she hugged it to her chest, narrowing her eyes. "Oh, it's that you can't trust your friends when you have a problem?"

I took a step backwards at the vehemence in her cracking voice. Had she been crying earlier? Was that why here eyes were all red and her voice was so raspy? "No, Sam, listen…" I trailed off, mouthing wordlessly. I didn't want her to cry, I didn't want her to be mad at me. I wanted to go and give her a hug, but I couldn't… not and still be friends…

"I'm sorry. Perhaps it's that you don't think your friends care." She turned away from me and strode over to the bookshelf, carefully setting the book back on the shelf before turning back and storming up to me. Her body swayed as she walked, her hair falling back down into her face, the soft light shimmering on her pale skin. "Perhaps you think…"

"I can't think," I snapped back, freezing energy crackling into existence around me. It was the same feeling from the movie theater, disconnected and immense. Every light bulb in the room popped and went out, the room falling into a frozen darkness, lit only by the streetlight outside and by the glow of my ghost form.

Silence fell for a few minutes, as I stared at her in the dark. I didn't feel like I had any sort of control over this weird energy that was flowing around the room. It was like it wasn't mine… but yet it was so hard to doubt that it had come from me. But this was the first time that I could connect it with something like I could my other powers. I'd definitely been feeling something when that energy had sprung into existence.

"Danny?" she finally whispered, her breath fogging in the air.

And just like that, the cold vanished. "Sorry," I breathed, "but that's what I was trying to say. I needed time to figure out what was going on." I held out my hand, calling a few stray bits of energy to my palm and creating a glowing ball. Ice swirled and formed a simple cage around the small light, keeping the energy contained. Sam's eyes glittered in the greenish light and I twisted it around to set it on her desk and take a deep breath. "Too many weird things are happening all at once and I need your help to figure them out."

She was still looking at me when I turned back around. "Why didn't you want to let us help you at first?" she asked softly.

"I don't want to rely on you guys totally. You're the best, but you have your own lives too. I can figure out some of my problems." I met her eyes and smiled, enjoying the way the flickering green light played on her features. "The small problems. When they get to be big ones I know I need help from those smarter than me." I waited a beat, then added, "We square?"

A half-smiled formed on her face and she relaxed, glancing around her room with a raised eyebrow. "Jerk. You killed all my light bulbs. And I had the expensive environmentally friendly kind, too."

"You have no idea how many lights I've destroyed this week." I sighed, stooped to pick up the notebook that had dropped out of my fingers, and dropped onto her bed. She joined me, reaching over to grab the notebook out of my hand with a curious look, ignoring the cold aura that always surrounded me when I was in ghost mode.

"Your notebook." She opened it and paged past my scribbled notes and horrible doodles. "What were you doing in class anyway? The humming was driving me up the wall."

"I don't know." My voice was quiet, frustration leaking through. "I don't remember humming, or anything else for that matter. I barely remember school." She shot me a look and I shook my head, flipping through the pages until I found the picture I'd drawn today and tapping the page. "I drew this."

She stared down at in amazement for a moment before her eyes jumped up to meet mine. "Wow. This is really good! I didn't know you could draw."

"I can't," I said, shaking my head, "and the weirdest part is that I ran into this ghost after school today."

"So? You run into ghosts all the time. It's not that big a deal that you're drawing them."

I thumped the page with my hand. "I ran into this exact ghost after school today even though I've never seen her before that."

Her mouth dropped open as realization dawned. "You drew… but… how is that possible?"

"I don't have a clue." I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around my knees. "It's got something to do with the sketching, and the cold, and the light bulbs, and her, and the fact that I'm zoning out at random times. I know they're connected."

"You froze the classroom and killed a bunch of lights today."

I bit my lip, shaking my head. "I wasn't sure if anybody else would catch that."

"Are you nuts?" She shot me a look. "Half the class figured you were possessed by some evil spirit. Tucker actually sprained his brain trying to talk them out of calling your parents to get you looked at."

"What?"

"You totally fit the bill for possession, I'll tell you that. And the fact that we couldn't get you to stop that annoying humming. I almost agreed with Paulina that we needed to call your parents. You know how weird it was if I was agreeing with her."

I stared down at the picture of the notebook. "Wow…"

Sam shivered, peering closely at the drawing. "What is this thing in her hand?"

"I don't know, some kind of card."

Sam's shivering was growing. Even though she didn't say anything, it didn't take a genius to figure out that the ghost in the room was making her cold. I closed my eyes, searching for that bit of my mind that was warm and heavy. I reached out for it, tipping my head to the side and grinning when the tingle swept over me and I was back to human.

"Geeze!" I yelped, shivering at the intense cold of the room. I snatched her thick comforter and threw it around our shoulders, huddling under its warmth. "Why didn't you say something? It's freezing!" Quietly I made a mental note to not be… in… ghost… Her bare arm brushed against mine and very suddenly I was intensely aware how of just how close I was sitting to Sam.

I could smell the shampoo of her hair and the vague remains of that strawberry-scented body spray, I could feel the warmth of her body, and if I leaned just a little closer I bet I could hear her heart beating. All thought was suspended in my head for that moment.

I watched her smile, entranced by the glowing light flickering on her face. "That was enough light, but it was gone too quickly." She stood up, leaving me alone in the comforter as I struggled to keep from grabbing her and yanking her back next to me. That would most definitely not be the best way to keep her as a friend. She'd probably scream and run.

Sam held the picture by the ecto-lantern and squinted. "Is that a man carrying sticks?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice thick. I coughed softly. "She gave me that exact card this afternoon, but it melted when it left her hand. She called it a 'ten' or something." I hesitated, my mind finally beginning to fire correctly. "She gave me this one too," I mumbled after a moment and dug through my pockets, coming up with the creased card. I held it up and Sam grabbed it, her warm fingers brushing mine.

"This is a tarot card!"

"Tarot?" I repeated. "What's tarot?"

"This is the Five of Cups," she glanced up at me, her violet eyes sparkling, "and the one in your drawing has got to be the Ten of Wands." She dropped the notebook onto her desk and ran her fingers over the book collection, mumbling to herself. "It's here somewhere… yes!" She grabbed the book and started to bring it back to the bed when she stopped suddenly, staring at me.

"What?" I felt insanely nervous, wondering if I had something on my face, trying desperately to figure out why she was staring at me.

"Your hair," she breathed, the book falling out of her fingers with a loud thump. "It's still white."

"What?" I leapt off of the bed and stared into the mirror. My hair was still as snow white as it was when I was in ghost mode. The only thing that had changed was that it didn't have that ephemeral glow that it usually had. I had human-white hair.

"Sammykins?" Sam's mother's voice came from right outside the door and I flinched. "Are you alright?"

"Yes!" Sam called, unable to take her eyes off of me. "I just dropped a book."

"Are you sure, Sammy?" The doorknob started to twist and I vanished, turning myself back into ghost mode from the safety of invisibility before the door was even cracked.

I drifted over, fighting with myself to keep from brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "Night Sam," I whispered into her ear, grabbing the ecto-lantern and vanishing into the night.

I had a lot to think about.

On the short list of positive things that had happened to me today, my hair was black when I got home and turned human. I sighed, sinking onto my bed. "Maybe it was just a one-time thing," I muttered to myself before shaking my head in disgust. I'm never that lucky and saying it aloud was just jinxing myself.

I shivered. My room was cold and dark – oppressively haunting. It actually fit for what a ghost lair would look like. The fact that it was lit only by the eerie green glow of the ecto-lantern still in my hand only added to the haunted house feeling.

Trying to ignore the deep shadows in the corners, I stared down at the small ecto-lantern. It really was a pretty cool idea to combine ice and ectoplasm like that. The natural cold of the ectoplasm kept the ice from melting too quickly and the ice kept the brightly glowing ectoplasm from dispersing. It was starting to lose some of its brilliance, but it'd probably still be glowing in the morning when I woke up for school.

Setting it onto my desk, I kicked my shoes off and leaned back against the headboard of my bed with a yawn. I really should get some sleep tonight, that way I could try to tackle all of my problems in the morning. All of them but one. I really did need to get over this crush I had on Sam… but that one could wait.

I grinned sleepily, staring up at the glowing stars on my ceiling and letting my mind drift. A few more days of feeling the way I did around Sam really wouldn't hurt anyone. It felt nice.

It felt like I had just closed my eyes when my alarm clock went off. The song on the radio blazed through the room and I grumbled, burying my head deeper into my pillow. I'd been having an absolutely wonderful dream involving Sam and some strawberries. Why was it that my computer, my game station, and my calculator all fried days ago but my stupid alarm clock never failed to go off in the morning?

I finally moaned and pushed myself up out of bed far enough to hit the button to silence it. Grabbing a pile of almost-clean clothes off the floor (I knew there was a good reason for why I hadn't cleaned yet), I staggered down the hall, grinning with delight when I beat Jazz to the bathroom for once.

I yawned, stretching, and flicked on the lights, blinking at the blinding brightness. When the spots all cleared, I stared at the mirror, suddenly and completely awake. My hair was white.

"Crud!" I slammed my eyes shut and focused on turning my hair black, sneaking a peak after a moment and sighing when my hair was back to normal. "What's going on?" I stared at my reflection for a few moments, tipping my head this way and that to make sure I'd gotten all the white. "And why?"

I washed my face as quickly as I could, dripping more water onto the countertop than usual, knowing Jazz would be banging on the door any second. I reached out for the towel to dry my face, but instead my finger drifted down to the drops of water glistening on the surface. Sounds died away around me, my vision narrowing so that I was only seeing the sparkles of light on the water. I pushed my finger through one of the droplets and watched as it formed a small line of water on the counter.

Another drop, another line. Over and over I pushed the water around, quickly forming a picture out of the gleaming water: a guy, sitting under a tree, with a cup of water being handed to him. The water was drying almost as fast as I could draw, but I really didn't care. I just kept moving my finger. I needed to finish it, I was almost done. The fact that the water was freezing into ice was helping. Just a few more lines and I would be able to see it…

"Danny!" My sister rapped loudly on the door, and I jumped, my focus broken. "I'm going to be late for school if you don't hurry up!"

I shivered at the intense cold that had permeated the bathroom, grimacing as my feet stuck to the floor when I tried to pull them up. Both of the lights had burst had some point, throwing the room into shadows that were only broken by the rising sun. Ice had formed around the edges of the mirror and the small pool of water in the sink had frozen into a solid block of ice.

"I… I just got in here," I said, stumbling for an answer.

"Don't be stupid. You've been in there for over a half-hour." She banged once more on the door. "You've got five minutes before I pick the lock and drag you out with the Fenton Fisher."

I blinked at the door for a few heartbeats. "I'll be… right out."

"Right," she drawled, storming away.

After staring down at the icy picture I'd drawn on the counter for a moment, watching my breath plume in the rapidly warming air, I glanced up.

My white-haired, blue-eyed self gazed straight back at me.

I made it through breakfast without any real problems, ignoring the looks and the questions my parents sent my way. Apparently I was looking 'freaked'. My dad asked me eighteen times over one bowl of cereal if I'd seen a ghost that morning. I couldn't decide how to answer that.

By 7:30, I was wandering into Sam's kitchen to walk her to school. This was an age-old custom that I'd let die a while ago and really needed to start up again. I just wasn't sure about being in the same room with her alone. Last night had gone okay though… except for that comforter thing.

"Hi, Sam," I said, grinning when I found her at the table, chewing on something that looked like a granola bar, her face buried in a book. She didn't look up. I waited, tipping my head to the side, watching a lock of her hair flutter as she breathed.

"Hi, Danny," Tucker said from one of the other chairs after a few seconds and I flushed, yanking my eyes away from her. He grinned at my expression and kicked out one of the chairs next to him. "And, after seeing that this morning to brighten my day, all is forgiven for ditching me yesterday."

I grabbed the chair and sank into it, throwing confused glances between the two. "No offense, Tuck, but what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to watch to stare in love-sick awe at Sam," he muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

I buried my head in my hands and groaned. Just what I needed, more fuel for the already embarrassing and torturous 'lovebirds' commentary on top of everything else.

With a laugh, Tucker continued a bit louder, "That, and Sam called. She said she had something to show us." He knocked on the table. "Earth to Sam, I did that research on Tarot cards you asked for."

Sam didn't look up, so Tucker turned to me and rolled his eyes. "I looked up that Tarot card the girl gave you last night."

"Sam told you about it?" I felt a strange rumble of jealousy that Sam had called Tucker rather than me, but I stomped down on it.

"At three in the freaking morning." He yawned, pulling his PDA out of his pocket and clicking through a few files. "Here. The Five of Cups is a minor arcana card in Tarot desk. This card can mean many things, but it usually stands for either the physical possibility of loosing something or the emotions that come with it, such as sorrow, regret, or denial. The loss could be something tangible, like money or a possession, or intangible, like a dream or an opportunity."

"When she gave it to me, it had sounded a lot like an apology."

"Maybe you're going to loose something and she felt sorry for you." Tucker looked up at me, a grin in his eye. "Maybe you're going to loose your girlfriend."

Sam's fist wiped out and smacked him arm. "Drop it, techno-geek."

Tucker rubbed his arm. "Ow… So now you listen to me. What are you reading anyway?"

"This." She turned the book around, showing us a picture of a very familiar looking gray ghost. "I've been reading the stuff about her. Basically it says that she's a Tarot ghost – she communicates through Tarot cards. Some people think she can see into the future, and maybe even influence it. Legend says that what she reads in her cards always comes to pass. Whether she can merely read the future or if she's actually creating the future is up for debate."

"That's creepy," Tucker muttered.

Sam glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, but then ignored him and kept talking. "The book says that she's probably a remnant of an ancient class of ghosts – really, really powerful ones – and that she's hardly ever seen. The last time she appeared was about 1400 AD or so. The people she appeared before are supposedly responsible for reintroducing the Tarot deck to humanity. The humans claimed that they were drawing the cards in their sleep while she was around, almost like they were possessed."

I sat up a little straighter, blinking in surprise. "What?"

"Dude," Tucker said softly, "that sounds familiar. Right out of class yesterday."

"And this morning," I added softly, grabbing the book and staring into the expressionless eyes of the drawing. They drilled into the back of my head, staring at me, daring me to figure her out. "They felt like they were possessed…" I closed my eyes and sat the book down. This strange energy that broke light bulbs and frozen everything never felt like it was mine.

Was I right with my half-hearted guess that I was being possessed? Was this gray ghost doing it?

"We need to get to school," Tucker pushed his chair out, "Danny can't afford another detention." He hesitated before grabbing his bag, tipping his head to the side and staring at me. "Um… Danny… not that personal choice isn't a cool thing and all, and you really can look however you want, but why did your hair just turn white?"

I reached up and yanked on my bangs in an attempt to see them, but then just sighed and focused on getting my hair back to black. "That's the third time it's done that today. Put it on my list of things I need to figure out really soon."

Tucker nodded and snatched his pack. "Do me a favor though, okay best buddy? Stay away from the pencils and notebooks. Yesterday was plain creepy."

With a small chuckle, I nodded, holding the door open for Sam to walk by. But rather than spending the walk to school trying to figure out what was wrong (like Sam and Tucker were doing), I endlessly debated if I should try to hold Sam's hand or carry her books for her.

I ended up doing neither.

By the time Tucker slid into his seat next to me for our last period – English with Mr. Lancer – I was in a dazed fog. My hair was now turning white whenever I wasn't actively focusing on keeping it black. I was pretty sure I'd kept most people from noticing the quick color changes, but I was getting some extremely strange looks. My head was starting to hurt on top of everything else.

Sam hurried into the room, her face lighting up with a smile when she saw us, and I lost control over my hair again. I quickly concentrated, my hair flickering back to normal just as Lancer walked into the door and eyed me. He seemed to hesitate for a second, something akin to concern flickering in his eyes before heading to his desk to take roll.

"Danny, you look horrible," Sam whispered when she dropped into her seat and plopped my notebook on my desk. "You left this at my house."

"Thanks," I whispered, settling back in the chair and trying to ignore my growing headache. What I really wanted to do was go hide in a dark corner and take a nap. My eyes were stinging.

"We're almost done," Tucker said encouragingly as Lancer started calling names. "One more class and you can go home."

I shot him a look. I didn't want to talk right now and listening wasn't much of a better option.

"On the positive side," he continued, apparently unaware of my glare, "You haven't started doodling and breaking light bulbs yet and no ghosts are attacking."

I sighed and dropped my head onto the table, only lifting my head briefly when Lancer called my name for attendance.

"Welcome, once again, to English. Today we will be continuing our study into medieval poetry. Can anybody tell me about the poem we read yesterday?"

I left my head buried in my arms as Lancer droned away in the front of the classroom. My eyes drifted closed after just a few minutes, a part of my mind focused on trying to keep my hair black. The rest of my mind was free to wander. Mostly though, that half of my brain played through various completely illogical ways of getting Sam to kiss me.

I really needed to get over my crush before I did something I was going to regret.

"Mr. Fenton!"

I jumped with a yelp at the voice that boomed in my ear. I stared up into the unblinking eyes of Mr. Lancer for a few heart-pounding seconds before glancing around the room. Several of the lights over my head were out and the room held a distinctly ghostly chill. I sighed, shaking my head when I finally noticed that the classroom was empty of everyone but the teacher and I.

"Sam and Tucker are waiting for you outside," Lancer said when he caught me glancing over at their desks. "I sent them off since I wanted to talk to you alone. Also, they told me to tell you that if you 'ditch' them again, they'll never forgive you." He raised an eyebrow at this, a small smile appearing on his face.

I rubbed my hands over my face. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Have you decided?" he asked, sitting down at a desk next to me. "Are we going to talk about what's wrong or should I make an appointment for you."

"I'm fine," I said sourly. In all the confusion, I had forgotten all about Lancer talking to me yesterday. Now I wasn't ready for this talk.

"No, not acceptable," he shook his head. "You've been asleep since you walked in here. And you look like something the cat dragged in."

"Sorry," I mumbled and dragged myself out of my desk to grab my stuff. "I'll just make an appointment…"

"Danny." Mr. Lancer's voice had a very strange note to it.

I twisted around. He was staring at me with an odd look in his eyes, confusion and doubt and a small stirring of understanding. "What?" I asked, my fingers curled around the strap of my bag. My stomach was twisting and churning as he just continued to stare at me.

"Your hair…" he whispered. A surprised look of awe was crossing his face.

"My…" Crud! I grabbed my pack and backpedaled away from my teacher. I babbled a string of words that made no sense, even to me, and raced out the door.

I made it to the bathroom without anybody noticing me and skidded to a stop before the dirty mirrors. Panting, I stared into my reflection. My own blue eyes gazed back at me, but my hair was no longer the jet black I was used to. I ran my hands through my hair, whimpering slightly.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus, but Lancer's face kept popping into my mind. The look of comprehension and wonder as he stared at me. I opened my eyes, stared at my white hair and snapped my eyes back shot, trying to concentrate. The small smile that had been growing on his face. I stifled a scream, my eyes flashing a bright green. What does he know?

"Sam would know what to do," I breathed, closing my eyes and trying to picture her face, trying to calm down. In my mind, she smiled at me and waved, reached a hand over to touch mine. Overhead, all the lights popped and went out and the mirror I'd been staring into suddenly cracked like I'd just punched it.

I backed away from the mirror unsteadily, my eyes wide, and tripped over the backpack that I'd unceremoniously dumped onto the floor earlier. I collapsed into a corner of the bathroom, wrapped my arms around my knees, and buried my face into my arms. "What's happening to me?"

Miles away, deep in the darkened corners of a lab, Plasmius floated waiting. He didn't have to wait long. The gray ghost appeared in a swirl of gray mist. "Did you do it? Is it done?"

The girl nodded, her expressionless eyes staring at Plasmius. "The virus is implanted." She blinked once, a blank smile crossing her face. "He does not know what I did."

"Ha! Perfect." He rubbed his hands together. "Young Daniel will have no idea what is happening to him. The virus will keep him busy long enough to keep him out of my hair while the rest of my plan falls into place. We can start phase three." He smiled to himself before turning to the girl. "Leave! I'll call for you if I need you."

The girl nodded once. "As you wish, of course." Her form dissolved into mist, her soulless eyes being the last to disintegrate. She reformed a few minutes later in a cave overlooking a bright blue lake.

Reaching into the folds of her gray, oversized jacket, she pulled out just one of her Tarot cards. Flipping it over, she stared at it. Stylized in vivid colors and enhanced by ectoplasm, she stared at a skeletal black knight, sitting astride a horse. "Death," she whispered. Ending. Elimination. Inescapable forces. Transition.

The smile that flickered across her face was chilling.

To be continued…