After the events of the previous story, the plan was to write something more chill and fun. Then I realized that October was right around the corner... I will try to keep this T-rated, but there will be one part that gets really intense, so we'll see what happens.

This story is heavily inspired by a trip I took to Gettysburg, PA. Specifically, one of the ghost tours. Not telling you which one to avoid spoilers. I'm going to keep this as historically accurate as possible, but obviously I'm taking some creative liberties. ;)

Also, this is the only part of the story that is in third person, past tense. The rest will be in the usual first person, present tense.

It'll Make You Bare Your Soul!

Prologue

Danny Fenton - Danny Phantom, in his current, ghostly form - shifted uncomfortably on the loveseat that was designed for someone much bigger than his 5'6" frame. That someone was the ghost he imprinted on, who stood at a whopping eight feet and change.

As usual, Reaper's body was covered by a light brown cloak, though unlike usual, the cloak's hood was down. Due to a severe core injury that almost destabilized them, nearly the entirety of Reaper's head was a criss-cross of pinkish red folds that looked like bare muscle and tendons. It wasn't pretty, and while Danny hated that his beloved "grim," as he called the Ancient who doubled as an extra parent, had to suffer such an injury, Danny was proud to call himself one of the few beings allowed to see it.

The duo sat on the loveseat as Reaper explained one of the new, more disturbing (in Danny's opinion) powers that Danny could expect to discover. Recently, Danny had developed his mature ghost-form, for lack of a better term. Apart from his skin turning light gray and the neon green of his irises encompassing all but his pupils, nothing had changed on the surface.

No, it was mostly Danny's internal make-up that was different. Danny was the first of his kind: a half-ghost who was also an angel. Angels were exceedingly rare, and halfas were even less common, so there were a lot of unknowns at play. Fortunately, Reaper was also an angel, so at least Danny had a reliable source of information. Even if his halfa status skewed certain details, though Danny wasn't sure how much was skewed.

So far, Danny had only noticed two of his angel powers. The first one, which had come in before his mature form did, was the Healing Touch. This allowed him to heal any injury or cure any illness. The downside was that Danny couldn't use it on himself, and he had to be careful how often he used it, lest he risk destabilizing, something he learned the hard way when he first developed it.

He was also able to sprout a pair of feathery wings that were as soft and beautiful as they were deadly. He didn't need them for flight. For him, they were strictly for combat purposes. Or, intimidation/showing off. They were virtually indestructible and sharp enough to cut through reinforced steel with ease. He could also shoot the feathers out like a barrage of daggers, and new feathers would grow in within seconds.

Sadly, Danny wasn't learning any of the fun stuff today.

Angels, as it turned out, were capable of sensing when someone close by was living their final day. The good news was that Danny would be able to help their souls move on. The bad news was that, well, Danny would know when someone was dying. And, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to testing this new ability.

The conversation soon prompted Danny to ask a question. "What happens if a soul…doesn't move on?"

"In those cases," Reaper explained somberly, "the soul becomes a being known as a wanderer: something that is not alive but is not a ghost either. They are trapped in an in-between state, unable to leave the place they died, able to see the world move around them, but never moving with it. But, this is a rarity, only occurring when intense emotions such as fear or anger are associated with the cause of death. Still, it is always good to provide assistance when possible. Just in case."

A shiver ran up Danny's spine. "That's…horrifying."

"Indeed," Reaper agreed. They lowered their bony, pale blue-gray hand to Danny's eye level. A small silver sphere, no bigger than a golf ball, hovered just about their palm. "This is the wrong color, but it gives you an idea of what a wanderer looks like."

So small…but Danny knew from experience that size didn't matter. Why, Danny himself wasn't exactly The Incredible Hulk, yet he'd taken down opponents much larger and more powerful than him. "Are wanderers dangerous?"

Reaper let the sphere dissipate as they retracted their hand. They pressed their lips together in thought. "Yes and no. To humans and non-angelic ghosts, they are merely," they twirled their hand, "invisible pranksters, you could say. They can move objects and create electrical distortions, but these actions require a great amount of effort for them. I have heard talk that, here in the modern day, there are certain machines that allow them to speak to an extent, though I imagine that this also tires them out quickly. Though, groups of wanderers are more powerful. And, an angel's presence increases their power still."

"What can they do to us?" Danny asked. "To angels?"

Reaper folded their hands in their lap, never losing that intense expression. "Wanderers, like the dying souls of the human realm, can sense when an angel is present. They become excited, as they somehow know that the angel can save them from limbo."

"We can do that?" That was going to be Danny's next question. "How?"

The corner of Reaper's mouth quirked upward at their imprint's enthusiasm. "I am getting to that." They sobered. "Wanderers are the souls of those who died in gruesome or terrifying ways. And, oftentimes, nobody knew exactly what happened to them. More than anything, wanderers seek to be heard, to have someone know how they died, what led to their demise. This is where they can be considered dangerous to angels."

That shiver came back. "How so?"

"They show us their deaths, hoping that someone will understand what they went through. These visions cannot harm us, but we see and feel everything as if we were the ones killed." Reaper almost shuddered at that.

Danny gritted his teeth and fiddled with his glove. "That doesn't sound fun."

"It is not fun. Nor, is it enough to help the wanderer pass on. As I have stated, they want us to know what led to their demise. If we are to help these poor souls, we are to learn more of their story through any means we can. Sometimes the wanderers can assist, but apart from sending us visions of their deaths, there is very little they can do to communicate with us. Once they realize that someone knows what brought them to their current state, only then will they be willing to pass on. Though, there are cases where they require something more. But, once the story is told, they have an easier time communicating, should there be another requirement."

Danny's head was spinning. It reminded him of the time Jazz tried to give him a crash course in algebra. But, there was a lot more at stake here than a bad math grade.

Danny ran a hand through his hair. "How will I know if a wanderer is nearby? Will my Ghost Sense pick up on it?"

"Like I said, wanderers are not ghosts. Therefore, they cannot trigger your Ghost Sense. It will be more akin to…a pressure in your chest that will seem to point in a direction." Danny frowned deeper, and Reaper added, "I realize that sounds odd. But, trust me. If you come across a wanderer, you will know exactly what I mean."