A/N: This is, as the title might reveal, a horror story. At least, I hope it is. This is sort of a tryout really, I'm working on a new story, a multi chapter fic called 'The House', which is a lame title but I couldn't think of a better one. It starts about the same, but the rest of it is different and the ending is different too, in fact the only thing they have in common is that it's about a haunted house (I currently only have two chapters on it). So I would really like your opinion on this ...

Ah yes, this is extremely long, it doesn't qualify as a drabble... but I just had too much fun writing this and I couldn't stop :)

Rating: T, barely I think... you don't think I should tone it down do you?

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom


65. Horror

The door squeaked as Danny slowly pushed it open, the sound sending shivers up their spines. Not unpleasant, more like adding to their anticipation of what they would find inside. This was a haunted house, of course the door was supposed to squeak and there should be cobwebs hanging from the heavy dark beams on the ceiling, the paint peeling from the stairs, the planks of the floor wobbling beneath their feet.

They were not afraid, just tense. They had fought countless ghosts together, some pathetic like the Box Ghost, some more fearsome like the Ghost King, or Skulker, or Plasmius. They had beat them all in the end and now they thought they were invincible, nothing could bring them down. So they stepped boldly inside, holding their ecto guns, ready to shoot an anything that moved. But they relaxed somewhat when they saw Danny's ghost sense didn't pick up anything.

With a loud bang, the door slammed behind them and they all jumped.

"The wind, hehe," Danny said, laughing nervously.

He stepped back, opened it again and peered outside into the unkempt garden. The house was old and worn and had been abandoned for decades. It was a surprise it was still standing there, just out of town in the woods surrounding Amity Park, a little bit away from the road. The city counsel hadn't let their eyes fall on this particular area yet, or it would already have been 'developed', tearing down the woods to build houses or better yet more offices or factories.

The house itself was just screaming 'haunted house' with it's dark red brick walls, it's slanted roof partially caved in, the shutters hanging out of their hinges, almost no paint left on the window-stills and the door frame. The door itself had been closed, but had been easy to open as the lock was splintered as if somebody had kicked it in a while back.

Tucker took out his PDA and began tapping the tiny touch screen with his pen, producing small beeping sounds. It sounded so normal that they all relaxed and Sam put down her backpack containing several ghost weapons, including the Jack 'o Nine Tails, the Fenton Lipstick and several thermoses. She also brought two apples and a banana, suspecting they might be there a while.

"What have you got?" Danny asked Tucker as he leaned over his shoulder, trying to read what was on the small screen.

"Lets see... I downloaded this an hour ago so I haven't looked at it yet... Alright, the house was built in 1923 no less by a man named Clarence Turner and he died here too, maybe it's his ghost that haunts here, it says here he was murdered by a burglar. And then a family lived here but they left after two of their children died mysteriously... and then two old ladies lived here but they left and nobody knows where they went. Wow, this is some unlucky house!"

Danny looked around. From the inside, it just looked like any old house, nothing special. The sun was shining through the stained glass window beside the door, making a colorful pattern on the bare wooden planks that made up the floor. They were in a hallway, with the staircase in front of them, a door to the right and a door to the left. If anything, the house looked friendly, not haunted. He turned back to Tucker, who had continued speaking.

"... and then in 1969 a man killed his whole family - two little boys and a girl and his wife - and then killed himself, can you believe that! After that it was empty for a long time, but in 1977 some rich guy bought it for his mistress and they patched the whole place up, but his wife found out and she came here with a shotgun and shot them both! It's been empty ever since. If this house isn't haunted, then no house is!"

"Well," Danny said, "According to my ghost sense, it isn't."

"But there must be something," Sam said, walking to the door on their right and opening it, "I can't believe how many deaths there have been in this house, it's... unnatural. It's as if something made those people do... what they did. It can't be just a coincidence."

She stepped inside the room which appeared to be the living room. It was almost empty, a small table was standing near the window and two old, broken chairs were laying in a corner. The floor was littered with beer cans and other thrash, mostly wrappings from the Nasty Burger.

"Ew," she said.

Danny and Tucker followed her inside and they wandered around the room, peering out of the windows in the back, looking up the chimney of the fire place, kicking the beer cans. Sam looked at the painting that hung over the fire place of a man in a black suit, wearing a black high hat. He looked very old fashioned, with black side-whiskers and a stern look on his face, as if berating them for trespassing.

"Look at this," she said to her friends and they walked over to where she was standing.

"Weird," Tucker said, "How come that's still hanging there?"

He stood right beside her and tilted his head a little, to look at it better. The floor cracked as they were standing there and Sam was just about to comment on that when Danny moved closer to them to look at it better and all hell broke loose.

With a loud crack, the floor gave way and they fell, screaming. Sam managed to grab the edge of the hole for a moment but couldn't hold on and she fell down on something soft that said 'Hrmpf' and then everything went black.


She was sitting on the staircase, hugging herself, her eyes swollen and teary. She looked around. How did she get here? Where were Tucker and Danny? She remembered falling down and then... nothing. She wanted to get up and look for them, but something stopped her. She was waiting for something or someone, who? She didn't remember.

It was very cold in the hallway and she shivered, thinking she should have turned on the heating when she got here, but she hadn't thought she would have to wait for so long. Jake and that.. that bitch of his had gone out shopping and she had watched them leave from her car. She had taken out the spare key that she had found had entered the house to have a look around, to confirm her suspicions. She had stood in the doorway of the bedroom upstairs, looking at the dark blue silk coverings of the bed, the frilly cushions, the huge mirror on the ceiling...

Something touched her and she almost shouted. But there was nothing there. I'm just a little tense, she thought, but she got up anyway and started pacing the hallway.

What was she going to do when they got back? What was the use of her waiting for them? Again, something touched her, icy fingers trailing her cheek, stroking her hair. She shivered again, as she remembered the rumors that the house was haunted. Jake always laughed at those things, but she wasn't so sure.

Then she looked at the floor. It seemed dirty somehow and she wrinkled her nose in disdain for the whore her husband had put up in this house. She looked again. The floor seemed to be moving, rippling and she rubbed her eyes, being sure that it was caused by her fatigue.

Something cold crept up her legs and she staggered backwards against the wall, staring wide eyed at the now liquid floor, cold and red, looking like blood. She stood frozen on the spot, unable to move, until she felt the coldness reaching her thigh, crawling on her legs, going up all by itself. Then she moved, she waded through the red flood that was now everywhere, cascading from the stairs, pouring out of the walls, slightly gulfing in the hallway. She reached the door and yanked it open, stumbling outside, falling on her knees, sobbing.

She sat there for a while on her knees, her arms wrapped around her middle, in the fading sunlight of the setting sun, it's rays still strong enough to warm her. Finally she opened her eyes a little and examined her legs, but to her surprise, they were clean. She could somehow still feel it though, that cold, crawling on her legs, as if a thousand insects were trying to get on her.

Stiffly she got up, walked to her car and opened the trunk, taking out the shotgun that she had in there. Then she walked back to the house, a new resolve coming over her. They would be here any minute. She would give them a warm welcome. She started smiling happily. A very warm welcome.

She had been sitting on the staircase for ages, watching the colorful pattern of the sun shining through the stained glass window on the floor move and then fade away as it got darker. A car pulled up outside and she was silently humming to herself, an old nursery song that she used to sing to her son when he was young.

The door opened and two people walked in, laughing, carrying parcels and groceries. They stopped when they saw her.

"Agnes!" Jake cried out in surprise, looking apprehensively at the gun that was now pointing at him.

The bimbo screamed, dropping her parcels and before she could run Agnes shot her. She flew backwards against the wall and slid down to the floor, leaving a red smear behind her. Jake backed away, white faced.

"A-Agnes, p-please..."

She watched in fascination as his head exploded from the bullet, spraying the door and the floor, just like it was before. Then she calmly reloaded the gun and put the barrel in her mouth.


Danny sat in the living room of the house, staring into the fire that was burning in the fire place. He blinked. How did he get here? He was just about to get up and search for his friends when the door opened and a blond woman entered, carrying a tray with two cups on it.

"Hi honey," she said in a sweet, chipper voice and he frowned at her.

He could see right through her, this wasn't really Tiffany, this was the devil, he could see it in her eyes, the flames of the fire dancing in them. But he smiled falsely and thanked her when she handed him his coffee. He stared into the fire again while she talked to him, her voice somehow sounding shrill and fearful. She should be fearful, he thought darkly, he was on to her. Her voice seemed to come from a great distance now, strangely echoing in the room, yapping about something inconsequential.

"You!" he turned to her unexpectedly, "You are the devil!"

His eyes were shining madly now and she fell silent, slowly getting up from her chair and backing away from him, putting the chair between them.

"N-Now John, really, why would you say that?" she said nervously, eying the door.

But he was between her and her escape route and he grinned, knowing he had her now. Slowly, he advanced on her and she backed away further, until she hit the wall. She blinked her eyes and her lips started trembling, her fingers idly tracing the pattern on the heavily decorated wallpaper.

"J-John... why are you looking at me like that... you're overworked... you need to lay down...". She was babbling now. "I am no more the devil than you are.. or the children."

He stopped at that, thinking. His children... the devil possessed them too? It was worse than he thought. Tiffany was smiling now and breathed a little easier, thinking she had him.

"See? Silly you!"

He took two big steps and grabbed her throat with both hands. Her eyes went wide in shock as he started choking her and she was hitting him with her fists and kicking him in the shins, to no avail. In the end her movements became erratic and she slumped down, still staring at him with her now glassy eyes that were almost popping out of her head.

He let her slide down on the floor and it was then that he noticed the floor was gone, that he was standing in some red liquid, looking like blood. But that was impossible of course. Still, he felt it creeping up his legs, a cold and itching feeling. Somehow, it didn't worry him and he looked up a the ceiling where he knew his children were sleeping.


Tucker blinked in surprise as he found himself once again in the living room of the house. One moment he was falling down, the next he was just standing here, in the dark, waiting. Wait a minute, when did it get dark? And what was he holding in his hand?

The door opened and his brother walked in.

"Hello Clarence," he said pleasantly, "What are you doing here in the dark? Why did you ask me to come? "

He shivered when he felt that strange, blood like liquid still wiggling on his legs, crawling up his thighs, reaching his abdomen, his chest, his neck. How he hated his brother, his twin, always better at everything than he was, always somehow mocking him with his success, his wealth. But he was going to take care of that for good.

Without answering he swung the club he was holding, hitting his unsuspecting brother squarely on the head. He heard a sickening crack and the man went down without a word, still having that faint smile on his face. For good measure, he hit him again a couple of times. Then he bent over and searched his pockets. He took his wallet and his keys and replaced them with his own. Carefully placing the club beside the corpse, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. He started chuckling.


Sam groaned and rolled away from the person she had landed on, hoping she hadn't hurt him too much. She stopped when her hands touched... something. Something that felt a bit like bent bars, very thin and smooth.

"Sam?"

Tucker's voice. He sounded scared, on the verge of panic and she hastily answered him to reassure him.

"Tuck? Did I land on you? Where's Danny?"

She heard him shift around some, groaning and she hoped he wasn't hurt too badly.

"Danny?" she said again, but there was no answer.

Slowly, her eyes started to get accustomed to the darkness down there. They were in some kind of cellar, she could see part of it by the light that was coming through the hole in the ceiling above them... at least ten feet above them. She could make out Tucker with his red beret, lying directly under the hole in the light, rubbing his head. Behind him she saw a limp form, unmoving.

"Danny!" she gasped and crawled to her friends hurriedly.

She mostly ignored Tucker, crawling around him, muttering to herself, "Please be alright, please be alright..."

He was laying face down on the floor which was made of dirt, away from the bundle of light that came from the ceiling. She grabbed his shoulder, turned him around and gasped.

"How is he," Tucker said, popped up on one arm. He had a large bruise on his forehead and a gash on his left hand but otherwise seemed to be alright.

"I don't know," Sam said, "He's unconscious and he has a cut on his head somewhere because he's bleeding."

She took out a handkerchief from her pocket and started wiping the blood from his face. Tucker was looking around the cellar and suddenly his breath stopped.

"S-Sam..."

She looked up from Danny to look at what Tucker was staring at, the place where she had been laying moments before, where those strange bars had been... only it wasn't a bars at all, it was ribs. Ribs from a skeleton that was laying there, in fact, it wasn't just one skeleton... She held back a scream, almost biting her tongue, but she started shaking violently.

She had seen pictures of Cambodia, the killing fields there, the millions of skulls, stacked on shelves in hangars and although it wasn't that bad here – at least as far as she could see in the dark cellar – there were definitely more skulls here than there had lived people in this house... there were dozens, everywhere she looked and they seemed to gape at her, grinning with their deathly jaws, their black holes for eyes boring into her.

Then she noticed something else. It got colder in the cellar and Danny's shallow breath produced a small stream of condensed air...

"G-ghost," she stuttered and started shaking Danny.

"Danny! Wake up! Wake up! There's a ghost here and we don't have our weapons..."

He didn't stir, his head rolling from left to right as she was shaking him fruitlessly. Tucker sat up and moved closer to his friends, moving painfully.

"I think I broke my arm," he moaned.

The air seemed to ripple and it got even colder. Sam could now see her own breath and she felt the malevolent atmosphere of the cellar closing in on her, choking her. The floor seemed to move under her, wiggling, shifting, turning liquid, crawling up her legs as she sprang to her feet.

"Get up!" she yelled at Tucker and he struggled to his feet with his right arm held tightly against his body. Sam realized he would not be able to help her with Danny and she bend over, put her arms under his shoulders and tried to drag him up.

"Danny!" she screamed.

He was almost completely submerged now, only his face being above the dark red...goo because she held him up. The stuff was cold but it seemed strangely alive as it stuck itself to her legs, looking like...blood. Then Tucker was next to her and with his good arm he helped her get Danny half way out of it, groaning.

"Danny! Wake up dammit!" Sam screamed.

The skeletons were moving now, getting up from the ground, appearing out of the sea of blood that was slightly gulfing around their knees, dripping red, forming decaying bodies as they approached the terrified teenagers. For a moment they were frozen in fear and they stared at the advancing, zombie like ghouls, who now looked like they had once been men, women and even children.

Then Tucker screamed and started pulling Danny along with a strength that was fueled by his fear and Sam snapped out of her stupor and helped him. They moved away from the hole in the ceiling, into the dark cellar that seemed to go on forever, the darkness engulfing them as they waded through the blood like liquid. Then Sam touched a slimy stone wall and they turned to look back. A ridiculous long way in the distance they could see the light coming through the ceiling and the shadows moving slowly towards them.

Danny groaned.

"Danny!" Sam and Tucker yelled at the same time.

"Wha..what?"

Danny heard his friends panicked voices from far away and tried to lift his head, immediately sending the world spinning, waves of nausea washing over him. He let his head fall backwards and it collided with the wall they were standing, or rather hanging, against.

"Ow."

He heard voices, urgent voices, yelling at him to wake up, get them out of there, now Danny, now, but his head hurt so much and he really didn't want to open his eyes. He wondered why he was feeling so wet and cold, why they were screaming in his ears and what that strange howling sound was.

He opened his eyes and looked uncomprehending at the advancing... corpses?

"What the...," he croaked.

"Danny!" Sam hissed in his ear, "Get us out of here!"

Shakily he removed his right arm from Sam's grip and braced himself against the wall. He stretched his arm and let go a small ecto blast, but missed because he couldn't see properly, the figures before him swarming in an unusual spectral dance.

"Help me aim," he gasped and Sam took his arm.

He fared a little better that way, with Sam taking aim and him letting go of the blasts, but it was tiring him quickly and they were still coming, crowding them, touching them with their cold, soft, slimy fingers.

"Go intangible," Tucker squeaked when a bony, withering hand touched his face.

"Hold on to me," Danny said with his teeth clenched and they grabbed him tightly, holding him up.

His breath became irregular as he pulled his will together and used all his energy to make the three of them intangible so they could make their way back to the hole in the ceiling. As soon as Sam and Tucker felt the familiar tingling and the lack of touching slimy fingers they started moving, going right through the ghouls, dragging Danny along with them who now had his eyes closed.

Twice he lost control of the intangibility and twice the ghouls started touching them again, grabbing them by their arms and legs, pulling them down and they were screaming until Danny managed to turn them intangible again. Sam started to worry about what they should do once they reached the hole, because it seemed out of the question that Danny could lift them out of there.

Danny seemed to have had the same thought, because as soon as they got clear of the ghouls he let go of Tucker and lighted a bright green ecto ball. It hovered just above their head, lighting the cellar, showing the liquid they were standing in as a black, ominous flood. The cellar seemed to go on forever, high vaulted tunnels leading away from them, disappearing into blackness. The ecto ball also attracted the ghouls.

Danny took a deep breath, knowing that their only chance was him lifting them out of there, but he could only fly when in his ghost form. He pushed Sam away from him and stood for a moment, staggering. Then he reached, trying to get to that cold core inside him that was always there, that he always took for granted, that was always so easily accessed.

Sam looked at her friend, his face contorted in concentration, his eyes closed, blocking out his environment. He was still completely covered in that cold, dark red goo and she also felt it on her own legs and arms, the sticky substance that seemed to be crawling onto her, moving itself over her body. She glanced at Tucker, who was trying to wipe the stuff from his face with his good hand, his right arm still pressed against his stomach.

A bright light appeared before them and they shielded their eyes as the familiar rings appeared around Danny's waist, sizzling, hesitating and then splitting apart, one slowly traveling upwards, the other down. They seemed to glow red in this environment, a reflection of the red goo they were standing in, the goo that was now up to her waist already, still stinging her skin, making her cold.

Then the fingers touched her again, but this time she wasn't afraid, this time she almost welcomed them. She looked at Tucker, who also seemed calm and then at Danny, who was grinning at them maliciously, hovering above the goo, but still covered by it in his ghost form. He slowly drifted closer to his friends, grabbed them both and lifted them up through the hole.

They landed on the floor with a thud, a little bit away from the hole and the treacherous floor and Danny reverted back to his human form immediately, gasping for air. They all laid there a while, their eyes closed, glad they got away from the horror in the cellar. When Sam finally opened her eyes again she noticed it was getting darker outside.

"Guys," she said hoarsely, pushing herself up, "I think we have to get going..."

She looked at herself. The red substance that had been covering her almost completely was gone, but she could still feel it somehow, as if it was creeping and crawling beneath her skin. It was a strange feeling, creepy in one way but not entirely unpleasant. Then a thought hit her and she looked at her friends, who were pushing themselves up, checking themselves over, surprised looks on their faces.

"Where did it go?" Tucker asked, looking at his left hand, turning it before his eyes and bending his fingers.

"It's still there," Danny whispered, smiling a bit.

His face was still pale and some blood was still there, but otherwise he looked fine. He got up on his hands and knees and tentatively crawled to the edge of the hole.

"Can you get me a flashlight?" he asked Sam, looking down into the cellar.

She did and then the tree of them looked down cautiously, ready to move at the first sign the floor wouldn't hold them. Sam shone her flashlight down in the cellar and they gasped in surprise. There was nothing there, just the dirt on the floor and some of the debris of the wooden planks that had fallen down with them. A little bit to the left, something white glimmered, half buried in the dirt and Sam realized that that might be the skeleton. It was only one though.

"Freaky," Tucker said, grinning.

He was still cradling his arm, but it didn't seem to bother him anymore.

"So," Sam said, "Where do we start?"

She didn't need to explain, they understood her perfectly. They edged away from the hole again and returned to their backpacks. Sam took out her apples and banana and they shared the fruit, while discussing their options.

"How about Dash," Tucker said, munching on his apple, "We've always hated him."

Danny nodded enthusiastically. "He could get into a serious accident with those weights he's always lifting in the gym."

They grinned at each other. They had formed a new bond, deeper than before and as they slowly walked home in the fading light, happily chatting and laughing, looking like any other group of teenagers even if the subjects they were talking about were a tad unusual, the house groaned and cracked.

When the sun rose the following morning, shining through the dirty windows, lighting the rough wooden floor, there was no hole to be seen.