Author's Note

That. Has got to be the fastest I've ever updated a story in my life. Look how lucky you all are! The characters have run away with the story too... I don't know if they'll let me have it back.

Chapter Five
A blow of air

The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts.

ITALO CALVINO, The Literature Machine

By the time he realized the depth of his growing obsession, it was already too late to pull out. He was sold, completely bought by the idea. And, the worst part was that he wouldn't have traded this revived belief in the paranormal for anything, even the popularity that he dreamed of one day acquiring. Funny how his desire to be normal was what caused him to ignore his hope and childish love for the world that he couldn't see in the first place.

They knew it too. They knew they had completely won him over, had captured his heart and his soul. They would never relinquish their grip on his heart, even when he found out about them – for they knew he soon would. It was impossible for him not to. And they wanted him too.

They wanted him to discover the darkness, the black fear that dwelled with the good. The reasons for the blood curdling screams in the dead of night, the shivers that ran down human spines, the locked doors and salted windows. The reason why some were good with auras of white and why others shrieked their malevolent curses, why they couldn't be killed but could move on, why ghosts were only one side of the coin.

Thwack!

"So, does your mom know yet?"

"No."

Thwack!

Danny was back at work knocking down the wall in his parent's subterranean ghost lab, this time with renewed excitement instead of grudging reluctance. He'd gotten too it the instant he'd come home from school, not bothering to even change into a work shirt – not that there was any point to that anyway, considering how Dash had destroyed it during the course of the day. As the memory rose to the surface of his mind, he paused his attack on the wall to bring a tentative hand to his slowly purpling nose.

"You're going to have one wicked black eye."

Danny laughed. "Thanks Tuck," he said turning to see his friends. Tucker was leaning against the wall, his smile crooked due to his swelling lower lip. Apparently, Sam had been the only one who'd managed to escape unscathed during the tussle with Dash and Qwan.

"Better than wincing every time you try to eat something."

Tucker's face fell slightly, a pout that was far more pronounced and childish than usual forming. "Thanks, man. And mom's making steak tonight." He looked truly miserable at the thought, causing Danny to chuckle with amusement once more.

Thwack!

"So, when are you going to tell her?"

Danny glanced toward Sam, at her smug expression, her folded arms. He frowned, suddenly much more interested in the way the sheet-rock was falling onto the metallic floor, and the brick-lined cavern that opened behind it.

"Not sure."

"C'mon on! You know she deserves to hear it. Especially after your fight."

"Hang on, I'm a little confused," Tucker said holding up a hand. "I thought Danny already told her about the fight with Dash. Except, well, he said it was a volleyball instead of Dash."

"No! Not that," Sam said exasperatedly. "He's supposed to tell her how he was wrong about ghosts not existing."

Thwack!

Right. That. Danny had wasted no time in telling Sam and Tucker about his conversation with Mr. Worth in the nurse's office, though they hadn't been as excited by this news as he was. Probably because they had already decided that ghosts existed, regardless of what anyone else thought. As for himself though, it had been nice to know that there was someone other than his parents and his friends that acknowledged their existence. That had noticed the signs of an invisible being and that had settled the matter for him.

He felt like a little boy again, eager to break through this wall and see what mysteries were behind it. It was one of the best sensations in the world, letting go of his frustration at his parent's endeavors and instead joining in on the secret. He couldn't even feel annoyed that Dash had ruined most of the day for him. This was just too big, and it didn't matter that they were alone in their belief.

Because he had finally accepted it as truth.

But he hadn't told his parent's yet.

"I don't want to tell them yet." He kicked a lump of sheetrock out of the way and picked up the hammer again, grimacing as his sore shoulder protested against the movement.

"Here," Tucker said moving forward and taking the hammer from him. "Your parent's said we were allowed down here only because we said we'd help you."

"Thanks," Danny smiled at him and took his position against the wall. "Make sure you stay within that chalk outline my mom's drawn, or she'll have both our heads."

"Right."

Thwack!

"Why not?" Sam asked, trying to bring the conversation back.

Danny wiped his hands on his shirt as he answered, avoiding her violet gaze. "I'm just not ready to tell them, you know? Especially not the day after I practically shouted my frustrations at her. I want to wait, tell her when I know it'll make her day."

"I suppose that makes sense…"

"And I want to do a little more research."

Sam let out a snort of laughter. "Of course you do. You want to be able to prove to her that you've actually changed, don't you?"

Thwack!

"Well yeah," Danny met her gaze now, a smile spreading across his face. "She'll probably just think I'm saying it in order to make her feel better. She won't believe me. But, if I have some knowledge on the matter… well, that's a different matter entirely." He chuckled. "I'm actually thinking just waltzing up to her and asking her some random question about ghosts, almost as if I've always believed."

"I'd almost pay to see the shock on her face."

"Exactly!" And they both fell into a fit of laughter.

"Hey!"

They looked up to see Tucker already looking tired and covered in white dust. "This is a lot harder than it looks!"

"Isn't it?" Danny said with a smirk.

"Oh, your hilarious. My hands are accustomed to my PDA and other assorted electronics. Not heavy labor."

"You're the one who wanted to help!"

"Only because it was painful to watch you swing this thing!" Tucker shook the hammer toward him.

"Here," Sam sighed, smacking her hands together. "Let me show you dweebs how it's done."

"Did you seriously just call us dweebs?" Danny asked in mock anger.

Sam laughed and picked up the hammer, Tucker taking her seat on top of the tarp covered desk. "Would weaklings be better?"

Thwack!

"Hey, I resent that!" Danny said, indignant now, though he was still smiling. He couldn't really be mad after all. It was sort of true. "If you hadn't noticed, I got beat up today."

"Excuses, excuses."

Thwack!

"Danny!" his mother's voice drifted from up stairs. "Tucker, Samantha, come up for some sandwiches!"

"Yes!" Tucker beamed and was half-way to the stairwell before Danny or Sam had moved. Sam sighed and leaned the hammer down against the wall, clapping the dust from off her palms.

"He's so easily manipulated by food, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Danny grinned. "You go on up, I'll be there in a sec. Just want to put the bigger chunks in the trash just in case my dad comes down and flips at the mess."

"Haha, yeah, probably a good idea. Hurry up though, before Tucker eats all the turkey ones."

Danny laughed and nodded, bending down to start scooping up the chunks of white material. It was dry and powdery; often crumbling the instant he picked it up. He heard the door to the lab close, a signal for him to hurry up. Tucker really would eat all the turkey sandwiches if he didn't hurry up. He was almost done though.

It felt different down here without his friends, he mused as he worked. Without their presence the joyful atmosphere had vanished. It felt creepy, foreboding almost, like it would walking down a deserted street in the middle of the night. A wave of cold swept over him and he stood bolt up right, breathing quick panicked breaths.

Was he imagining it?

He could feel the eyes on the back of his neck, but he knew there was nothing there. Or did he. A knot formed in his stomach and his hand reached for the comforting weight of the hammer. Was he really alone? Now that ghosts had been brought back into his life, he was willing to pay a little more attention to the prickling hairs on his arms, the cold on the back of his neck. But he could just be over-thinking it, couldn't he? Maybe he was so eager to believe that he was letting his imagination run away with him, creating more clues more proof of their existence. He wouldn't put it past him. He'd never been so happy in his life. It was as though he'd just discovered that the Santa Claus of his childhood was actually real – but that was a bad example since he really hated Christmas. Easter Bunny? No, that was just stupid. Imaginary friend. Yeah, that worked. It was like his imaginary friend had just materialized and become real.

After scanning the empty lab for several seconds, Danny put the hammer down and started picking up the pieces again. Not three seconds later he felt it again, and this time, he knew it wasn't his imagination.

Something or someone was blowing air on his ear.

With a strangled yell, he jumped back, scrambling toward the stairs faster than he would've thought possible. He stopped on the bottom step, his eyes darting wildly around the room, trying to see where it was. He was fairly certain it was a ghost now. There were no windows for drafts to come in, the door had been shut, and his mother was still installing the ventilation system. There was something in the room with him, or was it someone? He nearly hit himself. This was no time to be mulling over which pronoun to use!

"Who's there?" He called out nervously.

No one answered him. Then again, he hadn't expected a reply. Ghosts didn't answer just because he asked them too.

"Why not?"

His hand clamped over his mouth, the numbing shock he felt barely enough to prevent him from screaming. The voice had been high, feminine, with a tone that suggested a broad smile. And also, it had come from right above him. He looked up, cricking his neck in his haste to do so, scrambling away from the spot on his hands and knees.

Wasn't this just a little too ridiculous? He'd only just acknowledged their existence. Barely.

"Ah, but did you forget mummy's words?"

Before he could quite formulate the thought in his mind, his feet had received the signal to run. He could hear her laughter trailing after him, sweet and yet threatening at the same time, like a cat that was playing with mouse before eating it. She was getting closer, following him up the steps. He wasn't going to make it. Three feet away, but she was too fast. Frosty breath feathered across the back of his neck—

He burst through the door, gulping down the warm kitchen air as though he had never breathed properly before. He was dimly aware that his legs were shaking, that three people were staring at him from the kitchen table before him. "I—it— someone—just happened—something—no sorry, I just—uh Sam, Tucker… need word—my room. Now."

He couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Didn't matter though, they seemed to have grasped the gravity of the situation and were already getting to their feet. He half ran, half stumbled through the kitchen and up the stairs, sparing a glance for his mother as he passed her by. She was staring at him with mingled curiosity and alarm.

"Sandwiches. Thanks!" He said, skidding to an abrupt halt, doubling back, and grabbing the plate.

"Danny, what—?"

"Sorry. Forgot something important. Really important. Can't wait. At all." He cut her off, taking the stairs two at a time. If he told her, she'd grab her gun and try to vaporize the thing – which he was against at the moment, liking them existing and all. Sam and Tucker were both looking at him with totally bewildered expressions, but they waited until he had locked his bedroom door behind him before throwing their questions at him.

"Danny, what's going on?"

"What did you forget to do that's really important?"

"Didn't forget, just happened." He took a deep breath trying to organize his thoughts. "You aren't going to believe this." A smile found its way across his face. "Downstairs. Just now, there was a ghost."

This didn't produce the reaction that he'd been expecting. His friends just stared at him before looking at each other and bursting into laughter. Danny couldn't see what was so funny. Although nothing bad had happened, he'd never felt so terrified in his life.

"What's so funny?" he nearly shouted over their uproar. "Don't you believe me?"

"Oh Danny," Sam said wiping a tear from her eye. "I do believe you. I just love how freaked out you are by it!" and she burst into giggles again.

"I—I thought I was dead!" he grumbled which only caused them to laugh harder.

"Just yesterday he was complaining about how he'd never seen any proof," Tucker wheezed, "And then—" the rest of his sentence dissolved as another fit of laughter took him.

"Why aren't you guys freaked out?" Danny asked perplexed by their behavior. How could they take this so casually? He froze, staring at the pair of them. "You guys didn't just master prank me, did you?"

"Oh dude, as much as I wish I could take credit for the look of horror on your face when you came bursting through the door, no." Tucker had finally stopped laughing, though his grin was still broad. "I'm relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Yeah. Here we were, trying to figure out whether or not they were real for years, and as soon as we accept the fact they might be, they literally give us proof."

"Just proves," Sam said, tapering off her laughter as well, "You have to take the leap of faith to find the path hidden there."

"Was that a Last Crusade metaphor?" Danny snorted.

"Hey, the principle still applies."

"Well, we have a new problem now," Danny said, the smile falling from his face. Yeah, the definitely had several new problems, but there was one very pressing one.

"And what would that be?"

"There's a ghost in the basement."

Silence. The joyous relief at being told that ghosts exist had ended, snuffed out when the words sunk to a deeper level. Their question had been answered; they could sleep well knowing that their childish beliefs had been fact. Except, they'd probably never sleep well again. When the night writhed with unseen life, how could one ever sleep again?

"What do we do now?

Ashes to Ashes

The crick in his neck was throbbing now, a side affect from pouring over Specters and Apparitions for the last hour and a half. The passage was incredibly dull and doing nothing to further his current understanding of ghosts. He knew most of this already, just the hearsay that everyone knew. He looked up, seeing Tucker in a state of near-sleep, another one of his paranormal books lying on his lap while Sam clicked away at his computer.

She'd won the rock-paper-scissor match.

Tucker had been all for rushing back down stairs and trying to catch the ghost themselves – providing it was even still there. Danny liked the idea but Sam had squashed it flat.

"We don't even know anything about them. Or how to use any of your parent's technology. Unless you want to tell your parents?"

"No."

"Right, so, then we educate ourselves."

And so the research had begun, but they were having little success. So far, the only real knowledge they'd been able to glean had come from Wikipedia, but even then it was muddled and confused. This came as no surprise, but it was disheartening. Even if so few people believed in them, you'd think some crackpot would've managed to post some genuine data. Danny was starting to wonder whether or not they'd have to ask his parents, since they were the only ghost experts he knew.

He sighed, closed the book with a snap and crossed to his bookshelf. He was just debating whether or not he should sneak into his parent's room and look at his mother's stash of books when an aged volume caught his eye. He knew for a fact that it didn't belong to him, its leather-bound cover frayed and worn. He ran his finger down its spine, a shiver crawling into his hand and up his arm. He retracted it as though he'd been electrocuted.

He stared at it for a moment, heart hammering. How had it gotten there? Had the ghost put it there? He couldn't fathom why, and wondered whether or not he was just unobservant. Maybe his mom had put it there. Right. With a great degree of tenderness, he picked up the volume. It felt as though it would fall apart if he held it the wrong way. He walked back to his bed and sat down, opening the cover.

The pages were yellow tinted and heavy, made of something thicker than regular paper. The title was a word he didn't recognize, something he assumed to be old English. It wasn't hard to figure out what it was alluding to though. Danny swallowed and flipped to the first chapter, wondering why the room had suddenly gotten so cold. He knew before he even started reading that he had struck gold; that the information they sought was contained within its stained yellow pages.

A ghost is the soul of a human or an animal that is trapped in The Ghost Zone.

"Hey Sam, Tucker? I think I found something."

"You sure?" Tucker asked sleepily. "Not another 'I saw a visage of my dead husband' is it?"

"No, I think this is a legit encyclopedia." Danny glanced back at the page. "Here, listen to this:

A ghost is the soul of a human or an animal that is trapped in The Ghost Zone. The reason for this varies widely, depending on the soul in question and the manner of their death.

"Ghost zone?" Sam said, glancing back at the computer. "I came across that term… one second." A few feverish clicks later, she turned back to them grinning. "Apparently it's a parallel world, one that we can't see and can't touch. There are natural portals to it though, like the Bermuda Triangle."

"You're getting into conspiracies there," Tucker said with a grin.

"But it makes sense," Sam pressed. "There are tons of unexplainable phenomena, people disappearing and then reappearing several years later."

"Rip Van Winkle?"

"Shut up Danny."

He chuckled and continued perusing the aged text. "This thing talks a lot about the Ghost Zone."

"Does it say anything about ectoplasm?" Tucker asked with a yawn.

"Uh… yeah! Try not to fall asleep.

Ectoplasm is energy with a life of its own however, it requires the mind in order to organize and become used. It is the substance that allows the consciousness of those dead to materialize and take shape. Demonic in nature, it can either take over the mind of the soul or it can be harnessed and used. Much like chemicals bonding, those souls that are damaged, or being held back to something are more likely to allow the energy to come into them, and give them purpose. This is why a ghost can be exorcised, for after the demonic energy is removed, they become nothing more than wisps of human consciousness. Sometimes they are then able to move on, and other times they just return to the zone to begin the process once again.

Danny paused, allowing the information to sink in. Thick tangible silence fell between them, bringing with it a wave of freezing air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his arms prickled, a shiver rippling down his spine. The paragraph, while textbook dry, stayed in his mind, the words burned across his retinas. Fascinating and malevolent, a warning and mocking sneer that said, you wanted to know.

Sam stood, silently making her way over to him her hand reaching for the battered book. Danny gave it to her, his throat too dry for words. Her violet gaze swallowed the page, taking in the information he had read for a second time. When she had finished, she looked up at them both, a new feeling settling in the room. One that gave reason for ghosts being associated with all that was dark and foreboding. And then she opened her mouth.

"Demonic."

Ashes to Ashes

"I told you to watch the Fenton's, not interact with them!"

A smile. "I couldn't resist."

"Next time you better. His parents may appear to be imbeciles but they are shockingly adapt at hunting your species."

"I beg to differ."

"Well I don't." A sigh, straightening of the collar. "In regards to the other matter, what's the situation?"

The smile fell. "He—he was disinclined to acquiesce to your request."

"You're doing it again."

"Right. He said no… rather forcefully."

A thoughtful silence, rubbing of tired temples. "I suspected as much."

"So, what should I do?"

"Nothing."

"But he's in the school!" A fold of the arms. "He's considerably inhospitable when it—ah, he's not… pleasant."

"He wouldn't be, it's not his nature. He's not like you or me."

"All the more reason to get him out of there."

"Dealing him will… require a certain degree of caution, on our part."

"I don't like this."

"You don't have to. That's why I'm your employer, remember?"

"So you keep reminding me." A pause. "Why is he even here?"

"Because, like you, humans are so easily led astray by the smallest of temptations."