AN: *kicks down door* CHAPTER TIME
Review Replies
NerddDrawz: Thanks! Ghoultar's personality kinda took shape while I was fleshing out the background ghosts, and then I got attached to him, lol. You'll see what I mean in this chapter. ;)
phetiamwantip: I'm glad you liked it! Fair warning; I've had writer's block on this story for the last couple of months, so I'm not as into it as I was when I wrote that chapter. I'm hoping the quality doesn't lessen in the future, though!
Just-Gabs-Writes: Aw, thank you! The chapter titles and GarmaDad are some of my favorite parts, lol. I also LOVE writing the Ninja being dorky teens! You'll see a lot of that in this fic.
Of course! ^_^ And thanks! Some of the abnormal speech patterns like Ghoultar and Dr. Saunders are difficult to write, but I do my best.
WafflesAndLifeProblems: Lol, I'm glad you liked that line. I almost cut it cuz I wasn't sure it fit, but I loved it too much. XD Abby's injury definitely has not healed; it just makes the story too clunky to mention it constantly. I promise I haven't forgotten about it, though!
Oh boy, if you like pouty/broody Morro, just wait for this next scene. XD
Megaslamancex: I'm always up for new reading material and supporting fellow writers! I'm having trouble finding your account on wattpad, though. What's the title of one of your stories? That might help. :D
Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys! I really appreciate it.
"What. Is. That?"
Morro's incredulous voice made me jump in surprise, but I thankfully didn't jostle the lump in my lap as Ghoultar leapt up, his legs fading away. Morro was halfway phased through the door, apparently on his way inside, but he had stopped and was staring at the furry, orange creature currently dozing beneath my arms. His expression seemed trapped between exasperation, bewilderment, and disgust. I frowned and instead of answering his question, I said, "You could have knocked, you know."
"It's my hideout," he shot back irritably, "I can go wherever I want—why do you have a cat?!"
"Ghoultar and Abby find kitten outside," Ghoultar admitted sheepishly, his head ducked like a scolded child, "He small and hungry, so we feed him."
"You took Abby outside?!" Morro exploded, and his eyes darkened. He stepped fully into the room, looking livid. Ghoultar shifted uncomfortably in midair, but I quickly came to his rescue.
"No," I retorted, catching Morro's attention, "We heard the cat meowing. The gaps in the window were big enough for the little guy to fit through," I pointed to the window, "so Ghoultar just phased through the wall and kind of… carried him in."
With a grin, I added, "We named him Chicken Noodle."
Morro stared at us, dumbfounded, for what seemed like ages. I pretended not to notice his shock as I scratched the scrawny kitten on the head. Finally, the wind master let out a long-suffering sigh.
"I can't believe you named it," he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Now you're going to get attached to it…"
"Too late for that," I muttered under my breath at the same time Ghoultar blurted out, "Can Ghoultar keep him?!"
"What—Ghoultar, no!" Morro's shout startled the kitten awake, and he perked up, blue eyes wide. He tried to wriggle out of my lap, but I held him down gently, making soft shushing noises to calm him. Meanwhile, Morro continued, "We're trying to curse the sixteen realms, I don't have time to be dealing with another unruly beast."
He cut his eyes pointedly at me when he said this, and my jaw dropped in offense.
"How dare you," I gasped, giving an exaggerated pout, "I'll have you know, Chicken Noodle is an absolute angel."
I held up the kitten Lion-King style to emphasize my point, and he mewed pitifully in protest. Morro rolled his eyes before he added, "Besides, you know what Wrayth will do if he gets a hold of it."
The significant look Morro gave Ghoultar, followed by the scythe master's resigned slump, caused my playfulness to waver. I brought Chicken Noodle close to my chest, cradling him protectively as Ghoultar gave a sad nod.
"Ghoultar understand," he murmured, and Morro nodded.
"Good," he said firmly, "Then put the cat back outside. You." He gestured sharply at me. "With me."
I rolled my eyes, but I stood. I gave the squirming, mewing kitten one last nuzzle before I walked over and handed him to Ghoultar. The way the ghost took Chicken Noodle and hugged him gently made me smile.
"Adios, little buddy," I said, scratching the kitten under the chin, "Stay safe."
Chicken Noodle meowed and licked my finger. I gave a brief grin before I turned away, walking over to Morro. The wind master grabbed my arm as soon as I was within reach, and he half-led, half-dragged me toward the door.
"Ow," I deadpanned, but he ignored me. As we came out into the main room, I noticed Bansha at the table, looking over a bunch of maps. Soul Archer and Wrayth were still gone, and I wondered where they were. In the original timeline, Morro had sent Wrayth to stall the Ninja… could that be what they were doing?
As we approached the table, Bansha looked up.
"Soul Archer and Wrayth intercepted the Ninja some time ago," she announced, confirming my suspicions, "They were successful in slowing them down and will return within the hour."
My stomach dropped as something inside me twisted in dread. I couldn't imagine anyone being… But who knows how much I had screwed up by getting involved? There was no way the ghosts were holding back. What if they had actually hurt someone? What if…
Morro was talking, but I wasn't listening. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Are the Ninja… is anyone… hurt?"
I couldn't bring myself to say dead. My gut squirmed as Bansha stared at me, her expression blank. I could feel Morro's dark glare on me as well, but I ignored him, focusing on holding the sorceress's gaze. She was silent for a long time before she finally spoke: "They did not say."
I released a soft breath, but I was far from fully reassured. I gave Bansha a small nod of acknowledgement and glanced at Morro. The wind master narrowed his eyes at me, as though debating whether or not to address my outburst. I frowned, and despite my better judgment, I said, "Don't give me that look. They're my friends; you can't blame me for caring."
He snorted softly and turned his attention back to Bansha. While he spoke with her, I stared at the ground, chewing the inside of my cheek as my stomach churned. If someone was actually dead, then Soul Archer and Wrayth would have mentioned it, right? The idea of losing any of the Ninja, aside from a dramatic self-sacrificial moment, was unthinkable. But now that I was here, and my plans had been totally derailed, nothing was for certain. If anything went wrong that proved to be fatal to the Ninja… It would be my fault.
I snapped out of my brooding when I heard my name, and I instinctively jerked my head up.
"You and I need to talk," Morro said gruffly, and he pulled me away from Bansha, who returned to her maps.
"Ay-kay-ay, more interrogations," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Morro stopped next to a stack of crates and, to my surprise, cast a glance at Bansha before he leaned in.
"Stop influencing Ghoultar," he ordered, his voice low, "I have enough to worry about without you distracting my ghosts."
My jaw dropped; that wasn't what I was expecting. Half-offended, I sputtered, "What, you mean the cat? It's a cat, Morro, and it wasn't even my idea—"
"I don't care," he snapped, cutting me off, "Just don't encourage him."
"Oh, yes, because heaven forbid he actually does something good," I fired back, my voice more scathing than I intended, "Heaven forbid he help something weaker than him instead of tormenting it."
"You think it's as simple as that?" he hissed, yanking me closer, his fingers squeezing my arm painfully, "That kind of mentality can get you hurt, or worse, in the Cursed Realm."
"This isn't the Cursed Realm!"
"Not yet."
"Not if I can help it," I retorted. Morro blinked at me incredulously, and slowly, his mouth stretched into a grin. He threw back his head and barked a harsh laugh, which at once confused and infuriated me.
"You?" he sneered, "Are you serious? You've been so cooperative since I got you, I'm starting to think if you secretly want the Ninja to lose. You're weak, Abby."
I felt my face heat up as I glared at his cruel, amused expression. On one hand, I was disgusted and offended. I wasn't weak. After everything I had risked trying to stop him, to save him… At the same time, I couldn't deny the squirming sensation of fear in my gut, nor the persistent twinge of my injured hand. Swallowing hard, I bit out, "I am not weak."
"You're a liar," he shot back. I tried to jerk away, but his grip only tightened, his smirk never wavering as I struggled against him uselessly, "You may have been difficult back in Stiix, but in the end, you still helped me get the scroll. You can't fight, obviously, and so far, you've been very open with the information you've given me. I gave you a weapon three hours ago, and you didn't even try to use it. You didn't even have the guts to end me back when you first had the chance. Face it—"
His voice turned into a dark snarl as he suddenly snatched my other arm. I wriggled, trying to tug out of his grip as he forced my arms down in front of me. He leaned in again, his eyes glinting, his smirk now a malicious sneer as he hissed, "You're not a ninja. You're not a hero. The only reason you're here is a freak accident. The Ninja made you feel special because you know things, but the truth is, you're not. You're a completely ordinary girl who got lucky. You're below-average, pathetic, weak, and it's no use trying to fight, because you can't."
My heart was pounding now, and my body felt both hot and cold at the same time. Morro's face was a picture of condescension, smug, looking down on me. His hands were rigid and tight on my wrists, unmoving despite my struggles, proving his point. My breath came out sharp and quick, and the worst part was that I knew he was right. Compared to the types of people that lived in Ninjago, there wasn't anything remarkable about me. But in a way, I also knew he was wrong. I was far from ordinary; there was no such thing as ordinary. Whatever my abilities were, it didn't change the fact that I was a person, and I wasn't going to take Morro talking down to me.
Glaring straight into his eyes, I stopped struggling even as I said lowly, "You're right, I'm not a ninja. I can't fight. Back in my world, my knowledge doesn't make me special, it just makes me a nerd. But that does not. Make me. Weak."
I emphasized this last word by shooting a knee straight up into the ghost's groin. His eyes popped wide open, and he let out an undignified yelp as he abruptly released me and collapsed to his knees, groaning. I blinked down at him, my mouth open in shock. I hadn't been thinking when I acted, and I was honestly surprised I had been able to hurt Morro at all. My head shot up to find Bansha and Ghoultar, who had just entered the room, both staring. They were apparently as startled as I was. A cold sense of fear washed over me when I realized Morro was going to be mad when he recovered.
Taking advantage of the ghosts' shock, I took off running, headed for the door across the room. Bansha and Ghoultar moved in the same moment, rushing to intercept me. Bansha was in my path in an instant, and I almost faltered, but I forced myself to keep moving. My brain was in a panic assessing the situation: Could try running through her, but she's probably solid, and she's a lot stronger than me, she'll catch me; she has no legs, can I tuck and roll? That's a ninja thing, but it seems pretty simple; just dive and roll. Come on, Abby, Zane taught you this, just don't think, just do it right… now!
Sucking in a sharp breath, I dodged Bansha's hands and somersaulted under her. I felt a cold chill as I rolled through her ghostly "tail," and though I was sloppy, I couldn't stop. I scrambled to my feet before Bansha could turn around, and I pelted toward the door, my heart pounding. Through the roaring in my ears, I heard Morro shout pointlessly, "Stop her!"
I had made it halfway to the door before they caught me. Bansha managed to snag my arm, which gave her enough hold to jerk me to a stop and throw me to the ground. I yelped as I hit the floor, and a sharp pain shot up my arm from where I landed on it. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the throbbing to die even as I climbed to my feet. Then Ghoultar was there, hauling me up and locking his arms around me in a tight hug. I strained against his hold, but my struggles were half-hearted. I knew I couldn't break away so easily this time.
I focused on steadying my breathing, trying not to choke on the lump in my throat as Ghoultar dragged me over to Morro, who had recovered enough to stand. There was a slight wince on his face, but it was overshadowed by a look of barely-suppressed rage.
"That," he growled, "Was a mistake."
My chest and throat were tight, and I felt sick, but there was still a hot knot in my gut that refused to die. Sucking in a shaky breath, I responded in a quiet but hard tone, "Thinking you could manipulate me, make me think lesser of myself, was a mistake. I'm fully aware of my strengths and weaknesses; God knows I'm not perfect, but I refuse to take crap from bullies, and I refuse to stop trying to help people. I do a fine enough job degrading myself, and I don't need your help with it." Then, out of nowhere, I blurted out, "I interfered with the timeline partly for you, idiot. That's why I made sure the Ninja didn't end you right at the beginning."
At this, Morro's expression flickered with confusion. I felt a twisted sense of triumph at that look; it was a pleasure to see the ghost thrown off his game. Not knowing how long I would have his attention, I pressed on, "Think about that for a second, will you? You and I both know they wouldn't have hesitated to send you straight back to the Cursed Realm. They didn't because I asked them to spare you."
"You think that means I owe you something?" he spat, his voice seething. I clenched my jaw.
"No," I responded, my tone cool and sharp in the face of his heat, "I just want you to take a look at the implications for a minute. I could have had you doused the second you made your move; I didn't. Despite knowing exactly what you're capable of, despite knowing all that you're planning, and despite knowing all that you're willing to do to go through with it! Is that something a coward does? Spares a threat? Brings them food, plays card games with them, tries their best to be nice to them? Does that really sound like something a weakling would do?"
I paused to let my words sink in before I added softly, "You villain types always have it backwards. You think weak people don't kill because they're afraid. You're wrong. Weak people kill when they're afraid. It's the strong ones who risk putting down the knife to show their open hand instead."
AN: WARNING. This is my last fully pre-written chapter. The next one is unfinished, and I don't know how long it's going to take me to get it done. My momentum for this story has kinda stalled out, but I promise I'm not giving up on it by any means! Thanks for hanging with me, y'all. :D
