Shatterglass
A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own Danny Phantom.
"They may need you right now, but when they don't…They'll cast you out. Like leper."-The Joker, "The Dark Knight," (2008)
Chapter 7: The Ultimate Price
A storm was gathering.
The wind howled and screamed like a horde of shrieking banshees, and so great was the force of the gale-force gusts and bellows that the trees and shrubbery bent and shook in a frenzied, wild, almost savage dance. The setting sun, as crimson as freshly spilled blood, made the once-pure white clouds seem to burn with sheets of roaring, furious flames even as the coal-black thunderclouds swallowed them whole. This massive, ominous bank rumbled and bellowed with almost constant clashes of thunder and crackling, furious electricity, and so great was their savage, untamed roar that they made the very moleculesin the air tremble and cringe. At any moment, this terrifying and awe-inspiring show of Nature's unbridled fury seemed ready to pour forth a relentless onslaught of rain and sleet onto the humans that dwelt beneath their great black girth, and so it was that all and sundry trembled and hid so as to escape Mother Earth's wrath.
Danny Fenton looked at the last remnants of that bloody sun, its final rays seeming to stain the air with streaks of crimson gore, and briefly wondered if it was some kind of omen. His fists clenched and unclenched over and over at the impossible dilemma that had been set before him, and though Danny was kind and moral to a fault, he was torn and conflicted as to which option to take. So great was the tornado of conflicting emotions and ethics and thoughts that the young hero found it necessary to step inside a nearby café. The reason for doing so was that he could splash his face with cold water and thereby banish the dizziness that had come with the utter shock of Vlad's merciless cruelty.
The door gave a soft chime as Danny pulled it open, and the elderly Frenchman who was proprietor of the establishment glanced at him.
"Ve weel be closing een less zan thirty meenutes, monsieur," the man told Danny in heavily accented English.
"I know," Danny told him, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "I just need to use the bathroom. I'll only be a minute."
"Very well," the Frenchman replied, turning back to his newspaper. "But try to 'urry, no?"
"I will," Danny reassured the old fellow, before slipping into the men's room. His voice seemed distant, though, for Danny's was certainly not focused on the conversation at hand. Even as he took a minute to steady himself whilst the last remnants of horror wore off, Danny's brain resembled an upturned anthill with everything that was flashing through it.
I don't want to die.
But if I don't die, I condemn millions to the same fate.
I'm only fourteen. I... I can't die yet!
But do I have a choice?
How do I even know Vlad will keep his word?
I don't know. He might kill them anyway. It would have all been for nothing. I'd have…died for nothing.
Tears threatened to leak out of the corners of Danny's eyes. I'll…I'll never have a chance to tell Sam how I feel about her. How much she means to me. I should have been braver, should have…
A sob forced its way up his throat. I should have come clean with her sooner.
I don't want to die. God, I don't want to die, Danny thought fearfully, and soul-searing terror threatened to drown him in a great, nauseating wave. I mean, I always knew I would, someday, but not so soon. Not like this.
Danny's numbing fear made his eyes cross and his knees shake, and he gripped the cheap, imitation marble sink with all the force he could muster.
Though the thought escaped him at the time, Danny's fear of departing the land of the living was by far nothing new. Everyone figures out their own, temporary presence on this Earth when they are fairly young, and it scares many people so bad that they are in denial for some time afterwards. A man could diet religiously, he could exercise often, but none of these things ever helped to stop death. The man could deny it all he wanted, but inevitably, the sun would rise, the Earth would turn, and the day would dawn anew, only hewouldn't be a part of it anymore. He'd be still and cold.
The fact is simple, stark, and grim: no one could cheat death. It comes to everyone, sooner or later.
And right now, the Grim Reaper, with his bloody scythe in hand, was galloping toward young Danny upon his infernal, unholy steed.
Danny could almost feel his heart curl up in a ball of fear as he cupped his hands, thus forming a makeshift bowl to catch the liberal amount of clear, freezing liquid that gushed forth from the faucet at his touch.
There's got to be another way, Danny thought desperately, raising his dripping face while reaching for a paper towel. Vlad can't win.
"You are such an idiot."
Startled by the new, deeper voice, Danny turned back to the mirror, brown paper in hand-
-But an utterly horrified sob escaped Danny's lips at the mere sightof the reflection that stared back at him.
Red eyes met his blue ones, and the young hero felt the bile rise in his throat as he looked upon the face that had given him nightmares and haunted his waking hours ever since the horrifying paradox that had brought him into Danny's own time stream. The face, with its arrogant, cruel features, fanged mouth, flaming hair and forked tongue, seemed to be the very image of Satan himself.
Such a comparison would not be entirely inaccurate.
Dan Phantom arched an elegant eyebrow as he continued. "Are you actually considering this? Are you such an idealistic fool that you are willing to go to your own demise, to be slain and butchered like a common cow? To be put down like a dog in the kennel? What is wrong with you?"
"I…I don't have a choice," Danny said firmly, though his voice shook. "If I don't, then Vlad will plunge the entire planet into a new Dark Age."
"I would choose that last option, if I were you."
"What?" Danny couldn't conceal his horror at his evil future-self's callous attitude.
Dan looked at him as if he were stupid. "Why?" the villain asked simply.
"What are you talking about?"
Dan's eyes glowed like red-hot coals on freezing winter night. "Why should you sacrifice yourself for them? They denounced you, cursed you, drove you from your home and hunted you like an animal while thirsting for your blood! You bled and suffered quietly for over a year, fighting for their safety and asking nothing in return! You used your powers to defend these ingrates, sacrificing your grades and your own well-being, and for what? The moment your identity was revealed, they were on you like a pack of piranha, calling you a freak and a monster! You fought countless battles on their behalf, to keep their homes and families safe and secure, and in return they tried to have you put up against a wall and shot like some kind of dangerous beast!
"Do you not recall what you saw, with your own eyes,back in that Texas cantina? How the citizens, whom you so valiantly fought for against impossible odds, feared that you would steal their children away in the night? How they said that you should be put away forever, to be used as the GIW's guinea pig? Are these the people you're willing to die for? Do they even deserve to be saved from Vlad, after all the hell they put you through? You owe them nothing, Danny! They should suffer, long and painfully, for what they've done to you!
"Fulfill the dark desire you feel deep within you," Dan finished. "Watch with as those spineless fools crawl back to you, mewling and begging for your help, and then take delight in denying them and leaving them to their fate! Let them die, and let this world burn!"
"If I did," Danny said in hushed tones, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself, anyway."
"That's because you have this little thing called a conscience," Dan snorted. "But don't worry. You'll grow out of it eventually."
"No, I won't," Danny replied, staring down his greatest enemy of all with a mixture of sadness and dignified but quiet resignation to his fate. "I swore I wouldn't turn into you, and one way or another, I'm going to keep that promise."
"If I am to die, I'd rather it be doing something heroic, even if no one else will ever know about it," Danny added mournfully.
"Then you are already a dead man."
"Better a dead man than an evil one," Danny murmured under his breath, making for the bathroom's exit. He opened the door-
-And was almost slain early as the creaking wood opened to reveal an almost solid wall of hard muscle and steel armor.
From within the dark confines of his helmet, the Fright Knight narrowed his eyes into vicious slits as he grabbed Daniel by the arm. "Your choice has been made," he growled. "And now you shall die at the hands of my master…"
Danny didn't try to struggle or break free as the Knight's mail-gauntleted hand grabbed his arm in a tight, painful grip.
Frankly, he didn't see the point in resisting anymore...
Somewhere…
FBI Agent Thomas Brody smiled grimly to himself as he consulted the handheld tracker that marked his course. The wheel of the French rental car swerved mightily as he wheeled the old clunker in a sharp left, to the alarmed honking and shrill cursing of those commuters on either side him. With one eye on the road and one on the flat-screened device in his hand, Brody pressed a button on his phone and was rewarded when his colleague, O'Malley, picked up almost instantly.
"You're sure these coordinates are right?" the venerable cop asked.
"Absolutely," O'Malley reassured him. "Apparently Mr. Masters still has his cell phone on his person. Quite surprising, seeing as how devious he was before."
"He never planned for the kid to leave us that note," Brody growled, "or that we'd discover his ruse so quickly. Masters probably thinks we're still chasing our tails right now."
"He's wrong, thankfully," O'Malley agreed. "Now, as I was saying, we have used the GPS on Masters' phone to pinpoint his location, or at least the location of the phone itself."
"And that would be…?"
"The coordinates have led us to an opulent mountainside chateau that is regularly rented out to those who can afford it," O'Malley said. "According to his financial records, Masters has resided there on and off for over ten years now."
"Must be nice," Brody said acidly.
"Want me to get the rest of the men together?"
"No, wait until I give the all-clear. I don't wanna barge in on Vlad until I know exactlywhat he's playing at. Have the entire team on standby and ready to move on my mark."
"I shall await your orders, then," O'Malley replied dutifully. "Good hunting, Brody."
"Hey, O'Malley," Brody spoke before the other agent could sever the connection. "You've been a big asset to this team," he said gratefully. "Thank you."
"You have as well," the other man said, albeit a bit grudgingly. "Everyone knew you were the only choice for something like this."
"Does this mean we have to get all chummy?" Brody asked, his tone playful yet serious. "Because I still don't like you very much, O'Malley."
"That is fortunate, Brody," O'Malley retorted. "Because I'm not very fond of you, either."
The CIA operative hung up abruptly amidst a burst of static, and Agent Brody smiled to himself while preparing his nerves for action.
"He always did have to have the last word…"
Epilogue
It went without saying that Jack and Maddie Fenton had been stunned and utterly appalled at Vlad Masters' maniacal metamorphosis. The insanity and fathomless hatred that had for so many years eaten away at him now returned with a force of such magnitude that it rivaled the deafening tempest brewing outside. So infinite were the boundaries of Vlad's malice and cruelty that the most hardened psychiatrist would have cringed in fear.
But despite the ordeal Danny's friends and family had so far endured, no word in English or any other language could serve to express the utter horrorthey felt as the Fright Knight materialized with Danny Fenton in tow.
The ghost boy was shackled in chains borne from the Fright Knight's own unearthly powers, and the glowing green manacles on his hands and feet rasped and clanked as the subservient minion thrust him roughly forward.
Madness made Vlad's eyes glitter with the depths of his hatred toward all things that bore the name of Fenton, and a sick, sick smile that mirrored his vengeful glee split Vlad's face as he floated over to where a despondent Jack Fenton was struggling mightily against his bonds.
"Danny!" he shouted. "Get out of here, son! Get away from-AAAGH!"
A hard, backhanded slap to the jaw cut off any further speech, and Jack's heart thudded with terror as the Fright Knight grabbed his hair and pulled so hard that his scalp began to bleed slightly.
Vlad's voice rasped from between his fangs, his breath hot and breathless in Jack's ear. "You WILL watch this."
The madman held out his arm, and the Fright Knight bowed deeply as he gently placed the hilt of his sword, the Soul Shredder, in Vlad's white-gloved palm. The raging storm began to reach fever pitch as Vlad sent Danny kneeling painfully to the floor with a contemptuous kick to the tendons in the boy's ankles, and the hero's raven hair hung over his eyes.
"Oh, God!" Maddie screeched, tears streaming down her face as panic consumed her. "Not Danny! Not my boy!"
At his mother's anguished cry, Danny raised his head and smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Mom," he told her, his voice hushed. "It was either you guys or me. What else could I have done?"
"Danny…" Sam's voice threatened to break. "Please…don't do this…"
The hero turned his eyes to hers when next he spoke, so she could see the truth in what were likely his very last words. "I love you, Sam," Danny said, the sentence simple yet unbelievably powerful in its utter sincerity. "I'm so, so sorry for not telling you sooner."
The Goth, so tough and brave in all other areas, broke down in tears, but no words needed to be said to confirm that the feeling was very mutual.
The breath was driven from Danny's body as Vlad kicked him in the ribs, and the monstrous gale reached a deafening crescendo as the Soul Shredder rasped from its sheath. Vlad raised the blade high, its burnished surface seeming to shine malevolently with the anticipation of spilling Danny's blood, and for a moment the villain seemed to take just a few seconds to savor the sweet, unholy fruit of his final victory. Then, with his once-handsome face twisted and marred with unholy delight and remorseless fury, Vlad lifted the glittering weapon directly over the back of Danny's exposed neck. The deep, bass roll of the deafening thunder made all the seas and oceans shake and tremble. The flash of Zeus's wrath that seeped through the sparse windows of the hidden lab reflected off the razor-sharp surface of the cursed weapon, and the blade seemed to glow with an ethereal luminescence all its own. Vlad tightened his fingers and gave voice to a screeching bellow that was borne from the hate and bitterness in his corrupted soul, while his intended victim tried to block out the screams of his loved ones as he quietly prepared for oblivion. But even as Danny waited for death, his mind flashed back to the statues back in his beloved home of Amity, the sculptures that had so poignantly defined what he had become.
SERVICE.
The knight, kneeling as he was now, forever pledging his sword to all that was good and right...
SACRIFICE.
The mother who wailed over the slain body of her son, as he knew his own mother would. Brave, faithful Danny, like the slain soldier, was now giving the greatest measure of devotion and bravery...
The air rang with the deadly song of remorseless steel as the Soul Shredder descended…
A/N: I know what you're all thinking: "That Quill is a terrible, wicked person for leaving us hanging like that!" Well, you know what? YOU'RE RIGHT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But seriously, don't lose any sleep, over this, okay? Chapter Eight shouldbe up tomorrow, but it might take me until Sunday to type it since its sheer length is gonna make it a real doozy to type! XD But do not despair, my friends: Ialwaysdeliver on my promises, and I can say for certain that the next installment is gonna be AWESOME! For those of you who have read my fight scenes in previous stories, like Gabry and KichiMiangra, you'll know that I speak the truth. Please be patient a little bit longer, for what happens next will be a sight to behold…
Your humble servant,
-Quill N. Inque