Breaking Dawn
A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own Danny Phantom.
"The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules! And tonight, you're gonna break your 'one rule'!"-The Joker, "The Dark Knight" (2008)
Chapter 16: Crossing the Line, Part Three
Outside Wal-Mart's front entrance
The stampeding rush of twilight shoppers had all but dimmed to a thin trickle of bedraggled humanity that flowed past the small umbrella booth that had been set up just outside of the pneumatically hissing, automatic doors. The stand, emblazoned with the ray of light that was the Society's symbol, was occupied by two particularly thuggish-looking gentlemen whose radical fanaticism seemed to have diminished as the night dragged on. Like mindless automatons, they handed out crisply folded brochures and tiny booklets that were teeming with the Society's vitriolic prejudice, and their droning voices could be clearly heard over the sputtering of passing engines as a young man, his features indistinct in the glow of the streetlights, approached them like a menacing wraith.
"Have a nice day," the first man said blandly to a woman who accepted a mini-book and just as promptly threw it away. "See the Light, before it's too late."
"Keep your friends and family safe," his partner added, as though he were rehearsing a line he'd heard a thousand times before. "There's not much time."
"You're right," Danny Fenton growled, his eyes burning like coals on a midwinter's day as he slowly put his palms on the table's surface. "There's not."
"W-what do you want, freak?" the first speaker demanded, his visibly quaking knees diminishing his unconvincing attempt at bravado. "The soldiers of Truth don't deal with the likes of-MMMMPH!"
Danny clapped a palm across the man's mouth, his body shaking with barely contained fury. "I'm not here to hurt you, scum, no matter how satisfying it might be," he snarled. "I want information, and you're going to give it to me. Answer my questions, and maybe, just maybe, I might be nice enough keep it that way."
"And we should believe you because…?"
Danny's tone was a sibilant, dangerous hiss. "Unlike you, I don't hurt people unless I absolutely have to, though I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't enjoy beating you to a pulp. My girlfriend Sam was nearly beaten to death last night, and I have it on good faith that it was a few of your people who did it, three or four who violated the orders of whoever the hell is leading you. You guys are in charge of new members to the Society, so I'm guessing you have a few suspicions as to who overstepped their boundaries. Give me their names."
"What makes you think we'll do that?"
"I asked you nicely," Danny snarled, his darker nature resurfacing with a vengeance as he slammed his hands down, causing both men to jump. "And I only do that once for scum like you. Give. Me. Their. Names."
Wisps of thin ectoplasmic energy poured off Danny's body like heat from an oven as the power in his veins surged like an electric current with the force of his wrath, and slowly, very slowly, the second man fished a memo pad and pen from his pocket. "We…don't know all the recruits by name," he said cautiously, glancing at Danny as though he were a dangerous animal whilst he scribbled on the paper. "But if anyone jumped the gun, I'd place my money on them. Maybe someone put 'em up to it on a dare or somethin'. If they ain't at home, they'll be at the bar on Fifth and Maple, next to the sushi place. That's where most of the new guys go to get a drink after the meetings."
"They'll have a tattoo on their left arm," the other added, pointing toward the insignia of the Society that lay draped across the table. "All the newbies have one."
Danny snatched the paper away, his eyes roving over the untidy scrawl before he shoved it into his pocket. He opened his mouth to speak-
- Only to stagger drunkenly as the ghost boy's eyes changed from brilliant scarlet to verdant green for just a moment, and he faltered visibly, blinking rapidly as though something were irritating his pupils as his senses swam.
Somewhere in his heart, a part of Danny that had remained untouched by the hate and rage he felt stirred from its slumber, and a voice, crying and desperate with urgency, sounded in his head like a booming knell.
I shouldn't be doing this! This is wrong!
Why hold back? Why show mercy?Another, nastier voice replied vehemently. They gave Sam no such courtesy when they beat her into a coma! Hunt down the ones responsible, as you vowed you would!
NO! This isn't me!I'm…I'm not like this! I can't be!
SHUT UP! YOU WANTED THIS! YOU SWORE VENGEANCE, AND YOU WILL KEEP THAT PROMISE!
The protestations of Danny's inner goodness vanished like smoke on the wind, and he shuddered as though he'd stepped in icy water before his pupils burned scarlet once more, their green glow extinguished like fire in a heavy rain.
"That kid's crazy," one of the vendors hissed out of the side of his mouth.
"No, I'm not," Danny's head snapped up. "Talking about me when I'm in earshot, now that's crazy."
With a blinding flash, oblivious to the startled cries of those around him, Danny slipped smoothly into his ghost form and became swiftly airborne. Before departing, however, he paused to hover in mid-air so as to turn his baleful glare on the two men below him for a parting shot.
"You'd better be telling the truth," he hissed, waving the torn memo sheet. "Because if you're not, well, I know right where to find you."
Then he was gone.
The two cultists turned to glance at each other in shocked silence, and then, simultaneously, they tore the emblem of the Society from their sleeves and threw the ripped armbands to the asphalt.
"That's it for me. I quit."
"I'm with you, buddy. No amount of money in the world is worth being vaporized."
Meanwhile…
Jazz clung to the arm of her seat as Agent Brody swerved her pink convertible into the opposite lane, completely ignoring anyone of a dozen traffic regulations in favor of quickening the vehicle's already frightening speed. Her red hair swished in front of her eyes as Brody turned the wheel like a ship's tiller, and her tone was somewhat sarcastic as she turned to face the venerable agent.
"Where did you learn to drive, from watching James Bond movies?"
"You want to save your brother or not?" Brody growled. "I've been doing this since before you were in diapers, kid. I know what I'm doing."
"Sorry," Jazz's body automatically leaned to the left as the tires screeched in a sharp right, and she jounced in visibly in her seat as the car almost flew over the pavement. "I'm just anxious, that's all."
"So am I," Brody murmured. "I just hope we can-WHAT THE HELL?"
SCREEEEEEEEEECH!
The stench of burnt rubber filled the air as Brody nearly flipped Jazz's vehicle over with a sudden and violent stop, and the stainless steel fender came millimeters away from sending a very disheveled and harried-looking Paul Sims flying, bleeding and broken, to the pavement. The ex-reporter and former Society member flinched visibly in the glare of the headlights, and Brody honked the horn several times to have him get out of the way.
But Sims' eyes lit up in recognition as he saw the agent's face. As a Society inductee, he'd been briefed on all of the ghost kid's known associates; if anyone could stop Danny from tearing Sam's assailants into longitudes, it would be the cop who'd hounded Fenton over several continents! It was probably that Brody had already learned of how Fenton had gone off the deep end with his lust for revenge, and it wasn't doubtful that he was out here looking for the ghost boy!
Sims staggered slightly, almost drunk with adrenaline as he approached the driver's side window, and Brody cautiously rolled the glass pane down as Sims opened his mouth to speak.
The ex-journalist knew that what he had done to Fenton would land him at least six months in a federal prison, but now his natural cunning came to the fore as he realized an opportunity for a plea bargain. If he could lead the cop and the girl to Danny before the ghost kid punched anyone's ticket, he might a few hours of community service or even be acquitted.
"You're looking for Danny Fenton, right?" Sims asked, secretly delighting in the astonished look on Brody's face. "Then let's make a deal. I know where he's headed, and I can lead you to him. But in exchange, I want you to do something for me…"
Epilogue…
Moustache Mary's Pub and Grill was, without a shadow of a doubt, the seediest and most disreputable liquor establishment within Amity Park's city limits. It was a dive for the dregs of the city's inhabitants, a hellhole of sin and debauchery that reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, stale food, vomit, and blood. Its windows had been shattered in bar fights on so many occasions that they were now covered only with heavy-duty masking tape, and the sidewalk outside was crammed with drunks, addicts, and thugs who lay in wait for any who strode off the beaten path. This was a dangerous place, all in all, and hardly a suitable environment for any fourteen-year-old kid.
But Danny wasn't just any fourteen-year-old kid by any measure.
The ghost boy's eyes glowed like the sky at sunset after a heavy rainstorm, and his vision was tinged crimson with rage as he walked, slowly and deliberately, up the bar's front steps.
A mugger clutching a switchblade lunged at Danny out of the shadows, but the boy didn't even so much as glance in his direction. A single-ecto blast in the face sent the man hurtling down the side-walk, screeching in agony, and Danny continued on his way without even breaking his pace.
Disdaining the doorknob, Danny opted for a much more crude and melodramatic method. Instead of going through the entryway, he made his own by blasting the ancient door clean off of its hinges and sent it slamming into the far wall.
His breath ragged and heavy, his fists clenching and unclenching, the dark apparition that had been Danny Fenton saw the fear in the faces of the bar's patrons and exulted in it. His burning gaze roved over the now-utterly silent pack of ragged humanity, and he raised a smoldering finger to point at three men, seated near a television that projected a silenced rerun of the "Jerry Springer Show."
Three men, with tattoos in the shape of the symbol of the Society branded on their forearms.
"Get out, while I'm still in a good mood," Danny growled to those who dared to look upon him. "I'm only here for them…"
A/N: NOOO! Will Sims lead Brody and Jazz to Danny in time? Will Danny's good nature override the darkness that's in his heart before he kills someone? Or is the hero we all know and love gone forever, to be replaced by this dark apparition? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!
Your humble servant,
-Quill N. Inque
P.S. To all those who have written in and alluded Danny's change in demeanor to the greatest threat ever to appear on the show: kudos to you. (In case you're not one of them, I didn't list him by name. Don't want to spoil it, do we?)