Danny Phantom and all related characters are owned by Butch Hartman and Billionfold Inc.

The Final Plan

Chapter 1: Taken

“Crap,” Danny whispered, looking at his watch. “Mom’s going to kill me…”

But there wasn’t anything Danny could do. There was no way he could make it home by curfew, no matter how fast he flew. Of course, his full day of ghost fighting hadn’t helped. One or two ghosts was nothing, but twelve? That was a bit much for any day, let alone a school day.

A shiver went up Danny’s spine and a blue wisp of smoke escaped his mouth.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, even the slightest hope of a light punishment gone from his mind. 10:30 was looking like a more realistic curfew. Maybe eleven.

“I do not ‘kid,’ Ghost Boy” teased a familiar voice.

Danny spun around, careful to scan for nearby pedestrians. By some stroke of luck, there were none around to witness his quandary. Before him stood a small green blob of ectoplasm, barely two feet tall.

“No, really,” Danny quipped, suppressing a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What’re you going to do, talk me to death?”

“Your pelt will hang on my wall!” Skulker threatened, launching himself at Danny.

Danny sidestepped with ease, laughing as he transformed into Danny Phantom.

“Where’s your suit, Skulker? At the cleaners?”

Skulker let out a ghostly growl, dodging Danny’s ecto-blasts. Things seemed to be looking up for the overworked Danny Phantom. A little stress relief, maybe some comedic quips, and he’d be home with another ghost for the por—

Danny stopped, looking down at where Skulker had leapt into his chest. His body seemed farther away than usual, like he was looking through someone else’s eyes. Then he was moving, walking towards home; familiar white rings appearing to turn him human again.

“You’re late!” Jazz scolded as Danny entered the front door, dragging his feet reluctantly.

“If Mom were here you’d be in for the punishment of the decade. An hour late for curfew!?! Come on, Danny, even you’ve never been this late before.”

Danny said nothing, still studying the floor with interest.

“Was it a ghost again?” asked Jazz, finally studying her brother’s reaction.

“Yeah,” he answered with a sigh, “it’s been a long day.”

Jazz nodded, her fury deflating.

“Next time, try to give me some sort of warning,” she scolded, ruffling his hair. “I worry about you, little bro.”

Danny looked up at her and gave a tired smile.

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” Jazz said, pushing him toward the stairs. “Now get to bed; you look like you’re going to collapse any minute.”

Danny trudged toward the stairs, still dragging his feet as he climbed the stairs to his room.

Jazz returned to the psychology homework that had swallowed the kitchen table, determined to finish her term paper. She was so involved in her work, in fact, that she didn’t see the ghostly form of her brother phase through the ceiling into the kitchen and silently make his way into the basement.

Down below, Danny pressed his palm to the Fenton DNA lock.

“Name?” asked a mechanical voice.

“Daniel Fenton,” Danny replied.

“DNA match indicated. Welcome, Danny,” the DNA lock replied.

The portal doors slid apart to reveal the infamous green glow of the Ghost Zone, and Danny shifted forms into his ghostly self. Hitting the DNA lock on his way by, Danny flew into the Ghost Zone as fast as he could manage, not bothering to register the slam of the doors behind him.

“It’s about time,” scolded a familiar voice as Danny collapsed onto the floor in a mysterious white lab. The source of the voice stood over him, blocking the fluorescent lights and casting an impressive shadow.

Danny looked up, his eyes glowing red.

“He’s tougher than you said,” “Danny” replied, dragging himself into a reluctant sitting position. “Do you know how hard it was to get him here?”

“I don’t care,” the shadow commented, kicking “Danny” back into a nearby wall. “Just get into the restraints.”

“Danny” climbed reluctantly to his feet, moving as though engulfed in an invisible bowl of jello. Reaching down, he closed shackles around both ankles and floated slowly up to close another restraint around his left wrist. Before he could open his mouth, the shadow swept forward and slammed the other shackle closed. “Danny’s” body slumped and a green aura surrounded him, only to leap away into a nearby suit of armor.

Danny groaned, trying to bring a hand down to hold his aching head, but instead finding his arms bound to the ceiling above him.

Surprise drew his attention to the shadowy figure before him.

“What do you want?” asked Danny, glaring at the familiar shadow.

“We both know what I want, Daniel; I want your mother.”

“Never,” Danny replied.

“I was afraid you might say that,” the shadow said, his words carrying much glee. “That’s why I brought you this.”

With a flourish the shadow unveiled a needle of ghastly looking liquid like nothing Danny had ever seen before. Its bright purple glow reminding Danny sickeningly of an old movie villain from his younger days: Ivan Ooze.

“No,” Danny protested. “You wouldn’t dare.

The shadow laughed, checking the syringe for bubbles.

“I want you to tell me everything about Maddie. Her favorite flower, her favorite restaurant…”

“What does it matter to you?” Danny asked, watching the needle closely. “She loves Dad. You don’t stand a chance.”

Finally stepping from the shadows, Vlad grinned evilly at Danny.

“You are mistaken, Daniel. It is you who doesn’t stand a chance.”

Vlad reached back into the shadows and pulled free a length of rubber medical tubing.

“This is your last chance,” Vlad said, placing the syringe carefully in his mouth and pushing the sleeve of Danny’s jumpsuit over his elbow.

Danny shook his head, desperately hoping that such trivial information was worth keeping from Vlad. But then, if Danny gave Vlad information now, what would stop Danny from handing over all of his secrets? It was a matter of principal more than anything. He would not tell Vlad a word.

Vlad wrapped the tubing around Danny’s arm and tied it into a tight tourniquet, careful to take his time. When he received no word from Danny, he took the syringe from his mouth and checked it one last time.

“You are sure?” he asked again.

“I won’t tell you anything,” Danny replied defiantly.

Vlad shrugged, pinning Danny’s shoulder to the wall and slowly sliding the needle into his arm. Danny squirmed as best he could, the sharp pinch of the needle helping to motivate his movement. The slow injection of over five cc’s of glowing purple liquid into his arm spread an ache along Danny’s blood deprived arm. What seemed like an eternity passed, Danny rapidly reminding himself that this was the right decision; he was doing the right thing. When at last the syringe was empty, Vlad pulled it free and untied the tubing tourniquet.

“How do you feel?” asked Vlad, stepping back and placing his equipment back in the shadows.

Danny carefully took inventory, discovering that the only thing unusual to his body was the ache in his arm. So much for Vlad’s bluff. Danny smiled defiantly, his confidence returning.

“What’s wrong Vlad? Grab the wrong poison?” Danny asked with a laugh.

Vlad said nothing, watching closely.

“Come on Fruit Loop, admit it! You gra—“

Something was not right. Why were the lights so bright all of a sudden? Why was the room spinning? Danny was suddenly glad for the restraints that kept him grounded.

“What did you do?” Danny asked, his words strange to his ears.

Vlad simply grinned, watching his prey flounder.

An icy chill spread through Danny’s body and he began to shiver.

“I have the antidote right here,” Vlad said at last. Danny struggled to focus his eyes on the syringe in Vlad’s hand.

“I can make the pain go away,” Vlad continued. “All you have to do is tell me what she likes. How bad could that be?”

“No!” Danny gasped.

“I’m sorry?”

“N-no. I—I have n-n-nothing to t-t-tell you,” Danny stuttered through chattering teeth.

“Surely you don’t mean what you say?”

Danny jerked his head up as best he could in a makeshift nod.

Vlad shook his head, lowering the syringe he held back out of sight.

“It is a pity. But perhaps a near-death experience will change your mind.”

With a flourish, Vlad disappeared into the shadows. There was a creak, as though a door were being opened, and then he was gone.

AN: And we have a title! Not the classiest title ever, and if anyone has any better suggestions please: do tell. This is my first Danny Phantom fic, so please have mercy. I appreciate flames as long as they’re constructive. But then, any news from the readers is good news. I’ll stop rambling now…

7.22.07 AN:

We have a repost! Or rather, a completely rewritten, revamped, and re(insert something cool and fitting here). Hopefully it is more appealing to any readers out there than the original chapter. I tried to write better. Be more detailed. Tell less and show more. Other cool stuff that writers are supposed to do. Hope you like it.

Thanks for reading,

K.G.