Happy Halloween, peeps!

Please enjoy this very special episode of Fire with Fire, featuring a ghost hunt which I've been wanting to write for years since getting obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved and Nuke's Top 5.

Dim the lights, get your bowl of candy ready, and enjoy!


General Notes

"This is dialogue."

"This is alternative dialogue, meaning whispered or spoken from a distance such as on the phone."

'This is thought.'

THIS and this and *this* are for emphasis. The *this* emphasis is more along the lines of the snarky or sarcastic.

[This is digital text, such as notifications on a computer or smartphone. It also represents A.I. voices, such as Karen or F.R.I.D.A.Y./"Friday" (because I really don't feel like typing out the full acronym with periods every time she comes up).]

I do not own Danny Phantom nor Spider-Man.

Ch. 14 originally published: Wednesday, October 30, 2024


FIRE WITH FIRE

14 — The Haunting of Flash Thompson


There were three stories trending at Midtown the following morning, the first of which being a new ice-themed superhero using the moniker 'Artiko.' The second was how the G.I.W.'s hindrance largely led to the collapse of the event hall. The third and by far most important story—in the students' eyes—could be summed up by a single hashtag:

#DannyFentonHasAbs

"It was trending within an hour of Betty's livestream," Ned supplied.

Peter snorted.

"Why does anybody care if I have abs?!" Danny hissed.

"Well, Betty's livestream really took off because she was one of the only people who got the collapse on film, and so people started watching just before it, and, well…you showed up in all your washboard glory."

Danny self-consciously rubbed his stomach through his oversized NASA hoodie. The trio passed a group of cheerleaders communing at one of their lockers. Their conversation hushed, and several batted their eyes or bit their lower lips. "Hi, Danny," they chorused.

Danny offered a meek wave and cringing smile in reply. "Please stop talking about my abs," he whined to Ned.

"Oh, well, here, let me help you lose them," Ned joked as the trio reached Danny's locker. He dug into his backpack and pulled out a large Tupperware of food, as well as a replacement barong. "Lola sent this for you."

"Please thank her, but why?"

"To thank you for all your help yesterday?" he answered unsurely. "She wanted me to bring, like, half our kitchen with me for some reason. But I only have so much space in my backpack."

Danny rubbed the barong's fabric between his fingers. "Huh…"

Betty rounded the corner ahead of the trio. "Danny!" she called.

The boy's expression brightened somewhat. "Oh, hi, Betty. How'd you sleep?"

"Barely at all!" she beamed. "My livestream is up to two and a half million views just overnight! I even had a spot on Daybreak on my way to school!"

"Wow, that's great!" Danny encouraged.

Some freshmen girls eyed Danny as they passed, giggling conspiratorially.

"…Did you have to include the part where I'm shirtless though?" the embarrassed teen added.

The girl's smile turned sheepish. "I'm sorry, Danny," Betty said. "I didn't realize it in the moment, and after the fact, it seemed weird to cut out part of a livestream right before a building collapsed. Like, 'What is Blondie hiding,' y'know?"

With a sigh, Danny nodded. "I get it. Hopefully this goes away pretty quickly. I'm not exactly a fan of being the center of attention."

"I definitely know that, Mr. Secrets," Betty teased.

"Mr. Secrets," Peter repeated with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," Danny demanded with little resolve. He closed his locker, and the group headed towards Peter's.

"I can't believe my stream is getting so much attention," Betty continued.

"Well, you also got some of the only footage of the ice guy!" Ned pointed out. "What was his name again? Cryo Tee—"

"Artiko," Danny interrupted. "His name was Artiko."

"I, for one, think it's pretty cool we have another superhero looking out for us," Peter declared with an embellished slam of his locker for emphasis.

Danny rolled his eyes, leading the way to Ned's locker.

"Ha! That's great," Betty laughed. "I'm gonna use that in my article for the school paper."

"You laughed at something I said?" Peter asked hopefully. "Does this mean I'm out of your bad books?"

"Ugh, dang it, I forgot I'm supposed to hate you," Betty scoffed. "Fine! Fine. Truce declared."

"Yes!" Peter cheered.

"Yo, Fenton!" Charles shouted over the din of the cafeteria.

Danny and Betty spied the entire Academic Decathlon team's table looking at them, with Charles standing and beckoning them over. The pair came to a silent agreement and redirected to sit with them.

"What's going on, guys?" Danny asked as he set down his lunch tray. "Hey, Jazz."

"It wasn't my idea," was her non sequitur reply.

Stupefied, Danny glanced between her and the others who all looked on expectantly.

"We need your help," Abraham said.

Danny raised an eyebrow before poking a straw into his juice box.

"Every Halloween, the Academic Decathlon team does a fundraiser," Peter explained. "A haunted house."

Danny rolled his eyes. "And what exactly does that have to do with me? I suck at being scary. Just ask Jazz."

"True," she agreed, swallowing a bite of her salad. "Least ghostlike boy I know."

Danny elbowed her.

"No, that's not the thing," Ned said. "So, Flash's uncle said we could use his house here in Astoria since he'll be away on an extended trip for his birthday next week. But—"

Flash scoffed. "These dipshits are afraid it might be slightly, gently…haunted."

"Actually," Charles added. "Like, for real."

"But guys, it's not haunted," Flash cockily assured. "Everyone's just spooked because of the double homicide a few decades ago."

"Double homicide?" Betty perked up. "Color me intrigued."

"So why don't you ever stay the night with your uncle?" MJ asked.

"No, you," Flash instantly retorted.

MJ scrunched her nose. "That doesn't…make any sense."

Danny's eyebrow quirked up at Flash's visibly suppressed fear. "And, what? You want me to get my parents to investigate it?" Danny drawled. "They'd level the building before successfully capturing a ghost."

"Nah, we thought you and Jazz might do it."

Danny snorted and exchanged skeptical glances with his sister. "Uh…we're not also ghost hunters."

"But you probably know how to do it," Abraham pointed out.

"And we all know you have the stomach for it," Peter said with a smirk.

Danny facepalmed.

"Plus, don't you have access to your parents' gear?" Ned added.

"Not really," Danny denied.

"Dude, there's literally a weird thermos thing sticking out of your backpack right now," Ned insisted, glancing down.

Danny looked at his incriminatingly unzipped bag. "Don't you have any other location options?"

"My aunt's got a hookup at the Steinway Mansion," Charles offered.

"Really?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah, they hook up every Tuesday, then go for tacos."

"O…kay," Danny said. "Anything else?"

MJ raised an index finger. "My little cousin is a teacher's pet over at P.S. Q255. She can get us permission to use their back wing while renovations are on hold."

"Nothing's scarier than public school," Flash uttered.

"Flash!" Abraham interjected. "Danny and Jazz came from public."

"No…he's right," Jazz agreed. "It's only been a few weeks and I already love Midtown over Casper."

MJ pointed a forkful of mashed potatoes at Flash for emphasis. "And I say it's weird to dunk on public school when we have a perfectly fine historic house right here in Queens."

"That's haunted," Charles reminded.

"Dude, we get attacked by wraiths, like, every day!" Peter said. "What's one barely active ghost gonna do?"

"Murder us with a part of a subway turnstile like he did his entire family?!"

"It wasn't the entire family," Flash dismissed. "Only the wife and one of the sons. My uncle Thaddeus was out on a date when it went down, so he survived."

"Please, Danny?" Sally Avril piped up. "Will you and Jazz check it out? I hate ghost movies, and I don't want to have to volunteer in one all month."

"You realize we're making a haunted house, right?" MJ asked.

"A fake one," Sally corrected, "where we're not the ones getting scared."

Danny sighed. "Alright, fine. I'm down if Jazz is."

"I don't get why I have to go, too," Jazz complained. "I have so many college application essays to work on this evening."

"Because you know how scared I am of ghosts," Danny emphasized knowingly, "and I'll need help if things get messy."

Jazz groaned. "Looks like I'm pulling an all-nighter."

"Great!" chirped Danny. "Who all is coming?"

"Not me," Charles immediately declared. "I do not fuck with spooky shit."

"Nor I," added Abe.

"I have a, uh, dinner tonight," Flash said.

"Cancel it," MJ barked. "It's your family's house. You're the only one with access. I'm in."

"Ned and I will help, too," Peter added.

"No we won't!" Ned replied.

"Yes, we will! Come on, it'll be fun."

Ned groaned.

"Betty? You in?" Danny asked.

"I wish!" she replied. "I have a lot of homework to catch up on, plus I'm exhausted from not sleeping last night. Take lots of video and stuff for me to use in the paper, though! Midtown will eat up anything paranormal, what with your family showing up this year."

Danny nodded. "Okay, so it's the six of us. I'll stop by my parents' lab after school and get some gear, and then we'll meet you guys there tonight. Wanna ride together to the tower, Pete?"

"Eh, I've got some other stuff to do…for May," Peter replied.

Danny glanced at his sister. "At least I can take a shortcut for once," he muttered.

"I'd appreciate a lift tonight, though?" his neighbor added. "If that's not asking too much."

"I'm used to playing taxi for all of Danny's friends," Jazz moaned with an eye roll.

"Oh, one final tip," Danny said, getting the group's attention. "Bring flashlights."

A group of athletes walked by, all giving Danny approving nods.

"And your abs," Flash taunted.

Danny blushed.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad," Danny greeted as he strode into their lab.

Both parents jolted and rushed to minimize windows and shove things into drawers.

"Danny-boy!" Jack replied as he accidentally knocked over his coffee mug. "We weren't expecting you today."

"Uh…yeah, I wanted to borrow some gear," Danny replied, suspicious of his parents' innocent smiles.

"Ice?"

"What?"

"Nice!" Maddie interrupted. "To see you taking an interest in ghost hunting!"

Jack cringed.

"Are you guys okay?" Danny asked.

"We're fine, sweetie," Maddie said. "You just surprised us, is all. You know how your father and I get into the zone sometimes."

"What sort of ghost are we talking about here?" Jack asked, crossing to their weapons closet. "How evil on a scale from one to 10?"

"Probably zero?" Danny shrugged. "Jazz's decathlon team does a fake haunted house every year and the house they chose is supposed to be actually haunted. But, like, they're never actually haunted. I mean, how many false alarms did you get before the portal opened?"

"A fair few," his mother agreed. "Well, I'd still feel better if we came along. I don't want you kids getting into trouble."

"Mom, we'll be fine!" Danny insisted. "Jazz and I know what we're doing, and it's just an old house."

"I don't know…" Maddie mused and looked to her husband.

"C'mon, Mads, Danny can defend himself," he said with a very obvious wink. "The kiddos are leading their first investigation…I think I'm tearing up!"

Maddie sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Well, alright. You should take the basics for collecting evidence: audio, thermal, the full-spectrum cameras, a couple of wrist rays in case you do find something. I'd give you the Fenton Finder also, but we must have misplaced it after the move."

Danny uncomfortably shifted his backpack. "Oh…that sucks."

With his backpack brimming with Fenton tech, Danny soon made his way to the door. "Thanks again, guys! Oh." He faltered when a blue-and-red-suited figure blocked his exit. "Spider-Man? What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Mr. Spider!" Jack called over Danny's shoulder. "Come on in."

Danny exchanged a suspicious look with the abnormally silent hero, both moving in slow motion as they slipped past each other.

Once Danny was gone, Spider-Man greeted the Fentons with a thicker-than-normal accent. "Thanks for meeting with me, Dr. Fentons."

"Always happy to help a hero," Jack beamed.

"Nice alliterating, hun," his wife complimented. "And please, call us Jack and Maddie."

"Tony said you had some ghost trouble?" Maddie asked.

"Yeah, the wraiths. I can normally use my webs as a capture weapon, but they just phase right out of them."

"Can I have a look?"

"Sure." Spider-Man shot a small web at a metal shelf on their desk space.

"Wow, you really are part spider, aren't you?" Jack said as he plucked one of the sticky strands.

"Jack," Maddie quietly corrected. To their guest, she said, "It wouldn't be too difficult to infuse some ectoplasm into the webbing. It depends a lot on the chemical makeup."

"What if he produces it internally, Mads?"

"That would be more difficult," she agreed while leaning in beside her husband to study the webbing.

Spider-Man gawked at the thought. Accent slipping, he interjected, "What? Ew, no. It's a formula I came up with myself." The hero popped a spare cartridge out of his left wrist shooter and set it down in front of the scientists.

"Ah, all for the gimmick," Jack said with a knowing nod. "I can respect a man with a theme."

"Well, the sooner you can get us the precise compound, that would be great. You can send it to us through Tony or Happy if you want to remain anonymous."

Spider-Man hesitated. "You promise not to share this with anyone? I came up with this myself and don't want copycats…as awesome as that would be."

"Don't worry," Jack assured. "We're great at keeping things under wraps, aren't we, Mads?"

"Getting better, though…our subtlety could use some work," she needled.

With a nod, the hero spotted a blank page in an open notebook and an accompanying pen. He quickly scribbled the compound's chemical formula and handed it to Maddie. "This is the latest version."

The woman immediately began studying it. "Yes, this should be doable. Fair warning, though: these webs will glow green. It's the nature of the beast, unfortunately, when it comes to ectoplasm."

"Yes, I know." The hero's mind visibly wandered. He cleared his head with a shake. "Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. Uhhh, I mean, Jack and Maddie. Doctors. …Colleagues?"

Bemused, Maddie extended her hand. "A pleasure to collaborate with you, Spider-Man."

The pair watched Spider-Man leave before returning to their previous tasks.

"So…do you know that was Peter?" Maddie tentatively asked.

"Mmm, I don't if you don't, babycakes," Jack replied without looking up.

"I suppose I don't, either."

Night fell over Astoria. Jazz, Danny, and Peter sat silently in the eldest's car. As they turned north onto the 2600 block of 12th Street, the mood became ever more subdued.

Streetlamps did little to illuminate thanks to the thick foliage of its ancient trees. Only the beams of Jazz's headlights successfully pierced the darkness, landing on a trio of teenagers standing in front of a closed iron gate.

MJ, Flash, and Ned fell silent as Jazz's car parked next to them. They all got out of the car, and Danny adjusted his backpack to rest more comfortably, the bag abnormally heavy with the weight of his parents' gear. With a long breath, he said, "Hey, guys."

"Fentons." Flash sniffed and looked at Peter. "Penis."

Peter scoffed.

"If we're gonna do this," Jazz interjected, "might I recommend we remain…civil. If this house is actually haunted—which is extremely rare—we're going to need as much unity as possible. Especially if it's a darker spirit. They'll use negative emotions to divide us, let alone if a wraith shows up."

"Fine! Fine, let's just get this over with," Flash conceded. He spun on his heel and fumbled with the gate lock. It finally unlatched and lazily swung open, its old hinges screeching in protest.

All six teens crowded into the opening to look up the cascading steps to the house. It was a colonial revival with tall white columns standing proudly along the porch and its two stories looming high over them. Only the hanging porch light above the door was lit; all other lights on the property were turned off. Overall, it was a beautiful, well-kept, stately house; for all intents and purposes, it appeared completely normal. And yet…

"Maybe we should actually go in?" MJ drawled.

The others, realizing they'd frozen in place, cleared their throats to break the spell and follow Flash up the walkway.

Danny gasped. "Oh my god, did that curtain just move?"

Jazz slapped his arm. "Stop it, Danny."

Her brother snickered and trudged ahead. "Well, Flash, your uncle sure has good taste," Danny commented.

"It was built by my step-great-great-uncle after he made a fortune with the IRT," Flash said, searching for the right key. "The company that basically built the subway. Amos was a majority shareholder. This was their house in the city. There's also a cottage out on Long Island, which is where my uncle is now." Finding the right key, he inserted it in the lock and cockily added, "Of course, that's what we call a cottage. It's three times bigger than this."

"We get it, you're rich. Congratulations," MJ said. "Just open the door so we can get this over with."

"You're not afraid, are you, MJ?" Ned asked in surprise.

"Of course not. I just have a lot of homework to finish."

The house's alarm system distantly chimed in response to the solid oak door's seal giving way. A cavernous entryway soared above them with a grand staircase flanking the left wall.

As they crossed the threshold, a wave of exhaustion hit Danny. It felt as if his chest caved in, leaving a pit where his core would be in ghost form. He slumped against Jazz and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Fenton, you good?" Flash asked.

Danny looked around the darkened hallway. Everything was perfectly still, except—

It must have been the air displacement from opening the door that caused a crystal on the chandelier to wiggle.

Danny straightened and offered Jazz a small thanks. "Y-yeah, fine," he replied. "Just…weird vibes. Did you guys not feel that?"

They all shook their heads.

"Danny, I swear to God, you better stop messing with us," Ned threatened with a quiver.

"I swear, I'm not!" he defended. Regardless, as Danny eyed the quivering beam of Ned's phone's flashlight, a seed of an idea was planted.

While Flash turned on the foyer's lights, Danny opened his backpack on a central table adorned with a dying bouquet in a vase. He took out two full-spectrum cameras, a thermal camera, three digital audio recorders, and a pair of his mom's goggles. Keeping the goggles and thermal camera for himself, he and Jazz distributed the rest of the gear.

"Alright, ghost hunting ground rules," Danny began. "Stay in pairs if we do split up, always have at least one device recording, don't antagonize the ghost—if there is one—and if anything does happen, don't run. That's literally why we're here with all this gear: to record evidence if we find any. Then we know what we're dealing with if we do find spirits that need to cross over or get to the Ghost Zone. Got it?"

The others nodded with varying degrees of hesitation.

Danny exchanged a solid nod—and wink—with his sister before saying, "And let's keep it as dark as possible. Flashlights are for minimal use only. If you can, use your camera's screen to navigate. Let's do this."

With fortifying breaths, the group inched their way further inside, focusing on getting the lay of the land before anything. To the right of the entryway was the front room which looked very lived in. A massive television hung above the fireplace, the sofa cushions were in disarray, and a forgotten coffee mug sat on an end table.

Just beyond that room heading counter-clockwise was the downstairs bathroom, a bright subway-tiled space with an old clawfoot tub as a shower basin. At the back-right corner of the house was a ballroom boasting floor-to-ceiling windows along two walls and a grand piano in the right-hand corner. It sprawled half the width of the house and connected through to the kitchens at the back left, which then wrapped around the back of the stairs to a dining room.

Finally, returning to the front left corner of the house, they found a study. An old oil painting of a family with two sons was mounted in a gap between endless bookshelves. On a side table sat a vintage model of an early subway train, along with a well-worn toy version placed in front of the more valuable one.

Upon returning to the entryway, Danny aimed his thermal camera down the hallway leading to the ballroom until everyone similarly focused their attention in that direction. Danny summoned some ice energy into the palm of his left hand and kept it active behind his back. "Is anyone there?" he called.

None of the Midtowners breathed.

Flash spasmed. "Does it feel colder to anyone?"

Peter whipped around to look at Danny. He caught a single glimpse of Danny's glowing eyes before the boy instantly resorbed his powers and buried his hand in his pocket.

Having also caught a glimpse, Jazz rolled her eyes and sighed. "Danny, are you getting anything on thermal?" she asked unenthusiastically.

"No, but my hand is freezing all of a sudden!" he replied and extended his hand for the group to feel. "Here, feel it."

"Oh my god!" Ned exclaimed.

"Whoa," MJ muttered, intrigued.

A distant chime sounded from the alarm system once more. Everyone watched as the heavy front door slowly inched open all on its own. Ned's flashlight effectively did nothing to help, what with the extent to which it was vibrating.

"Please tell me rich people use automatic doors."

Flash stepped forward. "No, the latch is just kinda difficult. Uncle's been meaning to have a carpenter refit the door. Sometimes you just gotta shove it—" he forced it closed with his shoulder "—so it'll latch," he explained and locked the deadbolt to be extra certain.

Danny stepped ahead of the group and approached the stairs. The ancient wood creaked underfoot as he ascended. He suddenly paused about halfway up, and the others stumbled into each other while trying to stop.

Lips separated, the leader of the group slowly looked up and around himself, lazily trailing his camera behind his line of sight as he contorted in place. Everyone similarly swept the space, both visually and with their devices. The tension mounted, but nothing happened apart from the continual tick—tick—tick of the hall clock.

After a lengthy pregnant pause, Danny briefly locked eyes with MJ before continuing upstairs.

The largest guest suite opened onto the top landing. It shared the footprint of the study below and had elegantly simple decor. The shades hadn't been drawn, so the porch light cast abstract pools of light onto the far wall. The master suite followed, sharing the rear hallway with another door that had visible dust on the knob. Curious, Danny reached for it.

"No!" Flash barked, ignorant of his sudden outburst's volume.

"Shit," Danny muttered and retracted his hand as if it had touched fire.

"What the hell, Flash?" Peter demanded. "Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?!"

Their host pointed a shaky finger. "No, just—that's…the room."

"'The room,'" MJ parroted sarcastically.

"That's where…"

Jazz thought for a second. "The murders?"

Flash nodded. "It was the boys' nursery. Thaddeus and Benjamin. That's where he killed my great aunt Debbie and uncle Benjamin. Thaddeus was supposed to move into his own room on his 15th birthday, which would have been a week after it happened. But then his father went to prison, so he packed all his stuff and went to live with my grandparents."

"Wait, you said your uncle is away for his birthday next week," realized Ned. "When—when did it happen?"

"October fi-…oh my god. What's the date today?"

MJ woke her phone screen. "October fifth."

Flash swallowed dryly.

"Okay, but…we're here to investigate," Danny said. "We really should go in to check."

"I hate to say it, but the actual site of tragedy tends to be the most active in a haunted location," Jazz added.

"Especially on the…anniversary," her brother added.

Their host mused for a moment before finally nodding his consent. "Just don't touch anything."

Danny slipped his mother's goggles on before once more reaching for the doorknob. He hesitated before building momentum and borderline storming the room.

It was in a depressing state. Dust covered everything. Children's toys remained scattered. Though a lot of the house had been modernized or at minimum maintained, this room hadn't been touched in decades and felt increasingly frigid. The only thing that had apparently been disturbed since that fateful night was one corner of the room. A bed had been stripped, and a wardrobe door was ajar to reveal its empty interior.

As MJ neared the other bed, Peter felt the beginnings of a tickle down his spine. He looked to Danny beside him and confirmed his nearest arm was aiming the thermal camera while the other fiddled with some settings on his goggles. Peter then surreptitiously looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see something. Or someone.

Nothing.

His flashlight beam dropped to the floor in front of MJ's feet. He hesitantly approached and crouched down.

Blood.

It was faint and difficult to see against the dark wood floors, but sure enough, there was a small blemish of rusty discoloration. MJ noticed what he'd seen and instinctively stepped back. Her flashlight beam fell on the frame of the bed above it which had similarly been stained. A throw blanket covered the actual bedding, but considering the rest of the room hadn't been touched…they elected not to see what was covered.

"Aw, how cute," Jazz cooed. Everyone glanced over to see her kneel down to look at another toy subway train. Its three carriages snaked across a rug next to a toddler-height table. Two teddy bears were perched in the set's matching chairs.

Ned pulled out one of the audio recorders and turned it on. "I-is anyone there?" he asked, then turned to Danny. "Did I do it right?"

Though Danny still wore goggles, the eye roll was obvious. "There's not really a wrong way, unless you intentionally try to piss them off."

"So do I keep asking questions? Should I pause at all? Maybe there's something specific I should ask, like I don't want the ghosts to think I'm unimaginative, but—"

"Ned."

"Yeah?"

"Okay, just kidding, there is a wrong way to do it. You need to leave pauses so they can answer in the silence."

"Oh. Right."

"Hey, Danny, did you know you're glowing?" MJ suddenly asked.

All eyes fell on his completely dark figure.

"Um, what?" Danny asked incredulously.

"On the full-spectrum camera. You're glowing."

Danny looked to Jazz for reassurance before self-consciously retreating deeper into his hoodie. Peter, meanwhile, looked at MJ's screen which showed a very obvious glow around Danny's body.

"Oh, um, Danny's probably fine," Peter said while studying the screen. "Heck, look, Jazz has a slight glow too."

"No she doesn't," MJ retorted.

"Doesn't she? Maybe it was just temporary." Peter did his best to cross the room nonchalantly. He swiveled his flashlight around the forgotten walls while whispering, "Dude, stop using your ice to freak us out. You're being recorded."

Danny sighed. "Doing my best," he whispered in reply then noticed Flash lurking in the doorway. "Are you not coming in?"

Flash shook his head. "No, I'm good."

"There's nothing in here, I promise."

Flash shook his head. "I'll stand guard."

"From who? It's your house," MJ sassed.

"Well, we should finish our sweep anyway," Danny said and led the group through the remaining bedrooms.

An uneventful twenty-five minutes later, the group had congregated around the kitchen island for a snack break. It was a welcome respite with the overhead lights on, purifying the space if only for a moment.

"Guys, I don't think this place is for real," Danny said after swallowing a bite of his granola bar. He fiddled with the settings on his thermal camera. "Ghosts usually don't wait this long to make themselves kno—"

The group fumbled as Danny's voice cut off instantaneously. They turned around to look at their classmate. He stood completely motionless, not even breathing. Most terrifying of all, his irises glowed a green so bright they nearly overshadowed the overhead lighting. Peter's nerves went completely haywire as they screamed at him in warning. This wasn't the same as his friend's low-level ice shenanigans.

Danny glitched.

The boy's face contorted with terror. "STAY AWAY! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!"

"Oh my god!" Flash exclaimed. "What's happening?"

"ESCAPE!" Danny continued, ectoplasm bleeding into his entire sclera. "YOU'RE NEXT!"

After heaving a deep breath, Danny began to scream. It quickly achieved an unnatural pitch that pierced their brains. Wine glasses sang as it reached their resonant frequency. The group cringed and stumbled back. Danny's scream rose, and rose, and rose, until it crescendoed in a—

Silence.

Unsure of when he'd closed his eyes, Ned reopened them.

"—wn," Danny finished and checked the screen on his camera. Noticing his classmates' crazed expressions, he asked, "Are you guys ok?"

"Dude what was that!" Peter asked.

"What was what?" Danny checked his thermal camera. "Do you guys feel something?"

"You were possessed or something!" Peter exclaimed.

"Psh, you're crazy," Danny brushed off with a sigh. "As the son of two very passionate ghost hunters who spent my entire childhood educating me on everything ghost, I think I'd know. My throat's a little dry, though, for some reason. Can someone pass me a water?"

Peter and Ned exchanged incredulous glances. Jazz, bemused, passed her brother an unopened bottle.

"Can you not look so bored?" Flash demanded. "Why did you just shout we're next and then scream your lungs out?!"

Danny finished chugging half the bottle. "What do you mean?"

Ned groaned. "You better be messing with us. I don't know how, but I swear to God, I'm gonna figure it out."

"I'm not doing anything." The teen sent a cheeky wink to his sister.

A distant chime.

The teens froze. It was the alarm system. No other sounds were heard.

"I g-guess the front door popped open again," Flash finally stuttered out.

"Didn't you lock it though?" Jazz asked.

A pit formed in everyone's stomachs. After a long wait, Flash set down his snack. He solemnly led the way back to the hallway that connected the kitchen to the entryway. Upon leaving the last reaches of the kitchen's lights, they cowered beside the stairs.

"I must not have locked it," Flash muttered.

The door stood incriminatingly open, allowing the porch light to illuminate a small sliver of the dark space.

"I thought you did, though," Ned said.

"I thought so, too," Peter agreed. "Don't you agree, Danny?"

"I wasn't looking," the boy replied.

"I didn't," Flash denied again.

"You did," Jazz insisted.

"No I didn't, because if I did, that means—"

The conclusion went unsaid. Flash stormed across his uncle's entryway and slammed the door, bolting it shut and moving a nearby chair in front of it. The boy shoved the chair against the door and leaned against the frame.

"…Danny?" Ned whined.

The others all turned to look at the younger Fenton and sucked in simultaneous breaths.

"What?" Danny responded obliviously.

It happened so slowly that no one could initially tell what was happening. First, Danny's hair moved in an invisible whisper of a breeze. His hoodie then lifted from his frame and began to billow weightlessly around him. The final confirmation that something was wrong was when Danny's sneakers slowly lost contact with the floor. Before they knew it, he was levitating several inches above the floor.

"What the—!?"

Danny choked on a breath. His right arm pinwheeled, his left apparently stuck in his jeans pocket. The teen became disoriented and aimlessly inverted. For a moment, only Jazz could see his face due to the group's positions, and though Danny began to audibly panic, he smiled and winked at her.

"AUGH!" Danny screamed. His body was suddenly thrust up the stairs. He screamed bloody murder and landed heavily against the top steps. Danny then tumbled haphazardly back down to the ground floor, settling spread-eagle on the cold entryway tiles. He scrambled to his feet and attached himself to the banister.

"Holy shit…" Peter muttered.

While he and Jazz checked Danny for injuries, MJ began another visual sweep of the space. The upstairs was entirely obscured from their view, but—

"I swear to God, Fenton, you better not sue," Flash said. "I don't care how injured you might get, but it's not my fault."

Danny took a step forward and limped. "You invited me to your haunted ass house!"

"To cleanse it or prove nothing's here! Not—"

Ssh.

Everyone fell silent.

"Who shushed me?" Flash demanded.

No one replied.

Flash spun on his heel and glared at the others. "Seriously, who—"

SSH.

A creak echoed from upstairs. It was the unmistakable staccato pop pop pop of an unlubricated door hinge. The noise died as quickly as it had begun, and the house fell silent.

Play.

The word came from everywhere, and nowhere. They couldn't even be certain it was aloud and not a figment of their imaginations. Regardless, everyone had visible reactions.

The group returned to the kitchen and grabbed all their gear from where they'd abandoned it.

"Alright, proceed with caution. Peter, MJ, you guys come with me upstairs. Flash and Ned, you stay down here with Jazz."

"Can I switch with MJ?" Ned asked. "Peter and I are kind of a package deal."

Danny crooked an eyebrow. "The ghosts seem to be targeting me specifically, so my team will probably see more action."

"Just kidding. Flash and I are besties too."

"No, we're not," Flash immediately spat.

"You two keep it together," Danny interrupted. "Jazz has very low tolerance for immature behavior. Unless Bearbert'sinvolved, of course."

"Shut up, Danny!" Jazz replied.

Danny smirked victoriously. Turning serious, he said, "Okay, let's do this."

Flash nodded. "Let's hunt a fucking ghost."

The trios parted ways at the bottom of the stairs. Danny led the way up and stopped a handful of steps from the top. "Okay, who's the jokester?" he asked dryly.

Peter and MJ aimed their flashlights from either side of Danny. The beams landed on the toy subway train which had been placed to perfectly block anyone coming up.

Danny turned around when he was met with silence. "Guys?"

"We've been together this whole time," MJ pointed out.

Danny swiveled his thermal camera and aimed it at the toy. Its temperature was normal. However—

"It's covered in handprints," Danny said.

His two companions crowded around him to look at the screen. Several warm-colored prints covered the carriages. Danny turned on his own flashlight and aimed it at the toy from a low angle. None of the dust had been disturbed at all. The prints were entirely ethereal.

"They're small," MJ observed. "Almost like…"

"A child," Peter finished. "Uh…didn't we close the nursery door?"

The trio saw a black hole in lieu of the wooden door.

"Oh…" Danny said in resignation. He steeled his nerves as he'd done hundreds of times in the face of an upcoming paranormal encounter. With a final glance at the toy, he stepped over it and crossed to the open door. "Okay."

Jazz led the way back into the study. They dispersed and inspected various corners of the room. Ned felt himself drawn to the family portrait above the fireplace. The wife and sons were stoic yet loving; the father was…missing.

Wasn't he there before?

Ned stepped closer before refocusing on some movement at the bottom of the image. He jolted briefly before realizing the movement he saw was the trio's reflections in the archival glass. Flash was over by the desk, Jazz meandered towards the front window, his own reflection stared back at him, and the last figure lurked in the doorway.

A pit grew in his stomach.

Ned squinted, willing his eyes to focus better in the dark. He took roll again: Flash at the desk, Jazz by the window, his own face…and a motionless fourth figure in the doorway. Ned stared closer, and closer, desperate to recognize the features of someone from the other group of teens, or perhaps identify some furniture or shadow that previously occupied that part of the foyer. He aimed his full-spectrum camera at the reflection, slowly pointed his disabled flashlight under his raised arm, and turned on the beam.

The figure vanished.

"Ned, do you see something?" Jazz asked.

Not having the wherewithal to answer, Ned turned off the light. It was still there. He turned it on; no figure. Ned glanced over his shoulder to verify that it was gone before turning off the beam one final time.

A shadow stood right in front of him.

Ned screamed and stumbled backward. He tripped over the stand of instruments to tend the fireplace and fell over a chair.

"Ned! Oh my god!" Jazz exclaimed and rushed over to help.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god—" Ned blubbered repeatedly.

"What the hell, man?" Flash asked.

"Th-th-there was a figure," Ned said and pointed at the portrait, "in the reflection, in the doorway, in the—in the glass. But then it wasn't there and then all of a sudden there was a man in my face."

Flash and Jazz looked but saw no other people present. But then, their gazes drifted.

"Who fucked up my uncle's painting?!" Flash hissed.

HYD

Three simple letters in a jagged scrawl now adorned the painting. Their deep red color was barely visible against the subdued painting beneath, but the light from Jazz's flashlight caught it at just the right angle. The text shimmered as if still wet.

Most terrifyingly, it had appeared beneath the archival glass.

"Flash," Jazz asked, "do those letters mean anything to you? Somebody's initials, maybe?"

The boy wordlessly shook his head.

Danny, MJ, and Peter combed the nursery for evidence of further intervention. Nevertheless, nothing else seemed out of place. The trio regrouped by the child's table and teddy bears.

"Does this room give anyone else the creeps?" Peter asked, visibly shivering.

"Whole house does," MJ replied. "I feel like I'm walking around with a ghost."

"Maybe you are," Danny muttered sardonically. "Something tells me this house ain't right."

"Was it the part where a ghost threw you up the stairs?" MJ drawled. "Or maybe the part where you were possessed?"

Danny deadpanned. "The toys and doors moving themselves don't help, either. Plus, this room. Bad mojo." He spontaneously gasped and mirrored Peter's shivering, and his breath misted momentarily.

"Wait! Cold spot!" Peter exclaimed. "I just saw your breath."

"Yeah…" Danny swept the room with his thermal camera until it landed on the bed. "Um…"

The throw blanket had a lumpy shape beneath it, and the room suddenly felt cavernous.

"Did…someone move some pillows to mess with us?" Danny mused.

Peter slowly approached the bed, each step more prolonged than the last. Licking his lips, he hesitantly extended an arm and pinched the blanket's top edge. The second his fingers made contact, the shape disappeared. Peter ripped his hand away as the blanket slowly settled back onto the mattress. Waiting a moment, he reached out again and whipped back the blanket.

Blood, and lots of it.

"Why is it fresh?" MJ shakily whispered.

While Peter raised his flashlight, Danny aimed the thermal camera.

"It's…warm," Danny confirmed.

Sobs. Quiet, hollow, feminine sobs.

The teens anxiously clustered closer together with Danny at the forefront. They stared down the open doorway, waiting to see if anything would happen. It did.

"STAY BACK!"

The scream came from next to MJ's ear. The girl screeched and body-slammed into the boys. They remained standing but stumbled several feet as everyone fought to collect themselves.

Danny heard a metallic rattling sound. He yelped upon seeing the toy train roll easily back into the room all on its own. Peter and MJ both whimpered and dashed away as the toy came straight for the trio. Dumbfounded, Danny simply stared as it moved and stopped upon bumping his shoe.

A child's giggle. Thank you.

Danny felt a cold sensation wrap around the knees of his jeans. "F-f-for what?" he stammered, looking down at the empty space in front of him.

"Who are you talking to?" MJ asked.

"Thank you for what?" Danny asked. He inexplicably began feeling drained, like his very soul was being leeched. A pit dropped in his stomach when he heard the response:

"Energy."

A small boy appeared.

Danny leaped back, passing straight through the boy's arms. He only had the briefest opportunity to register the ghost's disappointed expression before he receded from visibility. He came to a stop when he bumped into an invisible shape kneeling at the bedside. Danny felt his core draining once more.

"D-d-d-d-danny?" MJ stuttered, her eyes locked onto something behind him.

The sound of a woman's sobs gradually filtered in as a second ghost took form. She stopped sobbing when fully visible and looked up with tragedy darkening her face.

"Hail," the ghost whispered.

Attention stuck on the woman, Danny stepped back and tripped over the small table. "JAZZ!" he shouted, contorting to right himself.

As soon as Danny was back on his feet, the three teens scrambled to the stairs. They frantically rushed down, skipping two steps at a time. The two groups collided at the foot of the stairs and congregated next to the open study door.

"It's a real haunting!" the siblings parroted.

"Wait, what happened to you guys?" Danny asked.

"Shadow figure and writing in blood," Jazz rushed out. "You?"

"Moving objects, full-on apparitions, and voices," Danny said. "So what do we do? Try to help them move on? Exorcism? Soup time in the thermos till we find a portal?"

"Did he just say 'exorcism?'" Flash muttered, still suffering from shell shock.

"What's 'soup time?'" MJ asked skeptically.

"Ghost trap," Danny said. "Looks like a thermos because, well, you've met our parents."

"Oh, that thing that was in your backpack at lunch!" Ned realized.

"If we can get the portal gun," Jazz suggested, "we can soup them short-term and get them to the zone that way. How do we get them past Mom and Dad though?"

Danny snapped his fingers in realization. "Or we can soup them till we figure out how to move on their spirits. God, if only we knew the unfinished business of the victims and a murderer!"

An invisible hand slapped onto Danny's wrist and locked in place like a shackle. After releasing a sharp cry of fright, Danny pulled helplessly to escape the grip, but it held fast. An otherworldly wind began to dance among the gathered teens.

As Danny's breathing became quicker, raspier, and more panicked, a shadow manifested before him. Definition bled into the shape of a hand on Danny's wrist and inched into a sleeve. It crept and crept along the shadow until the crazed face of a man filled Danny's field of vision. The skin was a deathly pallor, and his eyes glowed an angry red, but he was unmistakably the man missing from the family portrait. Danny's eyes blew wide, and his jaw fell agape.

"FRAMED!" Amos Feingold screamed between dimensions, his voice tearing at the tendrils of their eardrums. The teens, apart from Danny, winced in pain.

"We know, you vandalized the frame!" Ned cried.

"Wrist rays!" Peter remembered.

Ned's outcry dragged Danny's attention away from the man and to the vandalized painting behind him. The bloody text now glowed an acrid green: H, Y, D, and an R, though the lower right leg of the last letter was elongated, as if whoever had been writing had been dragged to the ground.

Suddenly, the toy train came clattering down the stairs. The metal carriages banged against each other and the wooden steps until they came to a heap at Danny's feet. Just as it settled, the toy train from the study rolled out as well, similarly making a beeline for Danny.

Danny frowned in concentration and glanced at the vandalized painting behind Amos. He gasped. "Wait, no!"

Peter and Jazz lowered their weapons. Ned and MJ kept their cameras locked on Danny and the apparition. The girl was stupefied as she watched Danny's glow seem to flow through his arm and into the ghost of Amos Feingold.

Danny studied the glowing text and toy trains. "They've already told us!"

"How can we possibly figure this out right now before he sucks your life away?!" Flash bellowed.

"You guys are the freaking Academic Decathlon team, for crying out loud! You have to solve things in seconds all the time!"

"He's right!" Jazz asserted. "We can do this."

"Flash." Danny looked at his classmate and occasional antagonist. He then pointed at the toys with his free hand. "You said the Feingolds made their money through the IRT which developed the subway system in the boroughs."

The boy nodded. "Right. It was a private company, and they resisted buyouts because they knew it would be worth even more over time."

"So, what if someone wanted to forcefully take that power for themselves?"

"Frame him to get him out of the way!" MJ said.

"But being worth more means more power," Ned added, "which means someone else would see that as a threat, or opportunity."

"But who?" Peter asked.

When nobody could answer that, Danny frowned. He eyed the scrawled text in the study. "'Hidder,'" he vocalized. "What's a hidder? Hider?"

"That R makes it look interrupted," Jazz observed. "What word could it be? Hydraulics? Hydrogen?"

"Hydrate?" Danny tried.

"The ghost lady upstairs said 'hail?'" MJ suggested.

"Hail what?" Danny pondered.

"Hail…Hydra?" Peter realized. His excitement immediately ballooned, to the point where he was almost literally bouncing with energy. "Hydra! Hail Hydra! It was Hydra!"

The wind crescendoed. Its force was now threatening to topple the vase of flowers on the entryway table. Jazz's hair came loose from its containment. Loose papers took flight and whipped around everyone. The small boy and woman took shape as they clutched either arm of the disgraced patriarch and fed off Danny's energy through him.

Danny took a deep breath and, seeing that MJ's camera was focused on him, looked Amos straight in the eye. With determination, and sympathy, he declared, "Amos Feingold didn't kill his wife and son! Hydra did!"

Peace.

There was no ethereal light; there were no spoken words. It happened in an instant. Amos and his family…were gone. While loose papers fluttered to the floor everywhere around him, Danny fell to his knees, panting after the strain of sharing his ectoplasmic energy with the weaker entities.

Jazz rushed to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Danny?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just tired."

"Holy shit," Flash said. He looked over his shoulder and noted the portrait had returned to normal.

Getting back on his feet with his sister's help, Danny snorted. "First time helping a restless spirit cross over?"

"This house actually was haunted! I wasn't crazy! Mother always said—" Flash never brought himself to finish the thought. He composed himself and said, "Uncle Thaddeus will be pleased…. Thanks, Fenton."

"I'm glad we could actually help."

"Boy, the school's gonna lose their shit over this," Ned predicted with a sardonic smirk as he stopped recording on his camera.

"But the good news is, we have our haunted house venue!" Jazz cheered.

"Is no one else curious why the ghosts liked Danny so much?" MJ mused.

Danny and Jazz exchanged nervous glances. Peter looked similarly concerned, his frown focused on Danny's exposed left hand.

Danny finally shrugged and meekly rubbed the back of his neck. "Vibes?"


This chapter's references and Easter Eggs:

- Daybreak: another throwback to the fictional morning show from the movie Morning Glory, which is actually a double reference since Patrick Wilson later starred in the Conjuring movies, which heavily inspired this chapter

- Taco Tuesday, anyone?

- Steinway Mansion: a real museum at the north end of Astoria, only a few blocks from this house

- The shadow figure only appearing when Ned's flashlight is off: a tribute to the brilliant Lights Out short (and subsequent film) by David F. Sandberg

I hope that wasn't too spooky, but just spooky enough? I have literally no gauge anymore. Besides the fact I wrote it and knew everything coming, I also survived the Conjuring movies recently, and absolutely NOTHING seems scary after that lol.

Happy Halloween once more, and feel free to leave a review or comment! I'm curious to hear how everyone enjoyed it!

-hiimian