Ok people, I seriously don’t know where this came from. This is a seriously angst story for at least the beginning. I had a lot of fun writing this, and reviews would be cool, but really I wasn’t even planning on posting this. This was just a fun story for me to torture a character. I like writing bloody, angst-y stories, so here’s one. It is a multi-chapter, and it WILL have a happy ending. I hope… Characters MIGHT be (and probably will be) OOC, but I wasn’t focusing on that when I was writing. I hope you people like me like this story!

Disclaimer: Don’t own anything…. Butch Hartman does and he had to stop it! Argh to you Butch!

I flew through the city, embracing the joy of flight. I mean, how many people can actually saw that they can transform and take off, without a care in the world? Well…I can’t say that either. I have more cares then most 14 years olds. Trust me on that one. If you don’t know who I am, I’m going to give the quick, rinky-dinky explanation that takes about less then 5 minutes, because this Phantom’s got a story to tell, and it can’t wait long.

My name is Danny Fenton/Phantom. I’m 14 years old and my parents are ghost hunters. (Please don’t ask.) I was a regular 14 year old guy with regular 14 year old problems until my whole life turned upside-down about a year or so ago when I was shocked in my parent’s Ghost Portal and turned into the famous (or infamous) ghost-boy Danny Phantom. My worries about grades and popularity got shoved into the back of my mind when I had to worry about bigger problems like making sure the ghosts that came out wouldn’t take over the world or some-such nonsense. Thankfully, my friends Sam and Tucker knew what happened, and help and support me 100. I probably would have cracked under the stress a LONG time ago without them. I saved the world a couple of times, but nothing big has happened yet. Hopefully nothing will. Ok, now back to the story, the more important one.

I shoved my hand into my pocket when I heard the annoying ring-tone that Tucker made and downloaded onto my phone. The lyrics went like, “Yo, Danny Fenton was just 14.…” I know. I was terrified too, but I haven’t had the time to change it. I snapped open the phone and said, “Hey Sam, what’s up?”

“Danny, there’s a HUGE ghost over here! It doesn’t look familiar either, and it’s too far away to set off your Ghost Sence! Get your ass over here!” she said, frantic and worried. I was too stunned to ask Sam where she was, I just hovered there shell-shocked for about a second.

“DANNY!” Sam screamed through the phone. I jumped about a foot (which is a huge feat when your hovering about 30 feet off the ground already) and frantically asked the phone, “Where are you? Sam, answer me!”

“Corner of Lanke and Main!” She stammered out, “Danny, hurry!”

I shot through the sky like a bullet. The only feeling I had was the driving, unstoppable urge to save her. I appeared on the scene to huge flashes of green light, some coming from the enormous heavy-weight champion sort of a ghost, and some coming from Sam, who was wielding her two arm bazookas like sharp-shooters. I dove into battle with the ghost, trying to help Sam the best I could.

I shot it with an Ecto-blast in the back of the head, but it didn’t seem to do squat, except make it madder then before. It sent me a return blast of pure yellow energy. It lit up the night sky like fireworks and I actually had time to admire the view before the energy crashed into me, despite me being intangible, which wasn’t fair! The force of the blast sent me spiraling down, and I hit the pavement with enough force to crack it almost in two. Then the pain hit. I doubled over as spasms of white-hot pains rolled through my body, sending waves of nausea and agony running through my system, starting from the place where the blast shoved most of it’s force. I lifted my hands from the place only to see reddish-green ectoplasm covering my white gloves. Sam ran over to me and asked the standard question.

“Are you OK?” She murmured, wiping my face free of sweat and blood and dirt with her sleeve. At the touch I shivered as agony rolled down my spine, and I glared at her for asking such a stupid question, but I pulled myself up off the ground and practically threw myself back into the air, trying to ignore the white-hot pains in my middle. The ghost was just watching through all this, and I wondered why. The ghosts don’t have a form of “honor” like the knights of old. He could have murdered Sam and I while I was down for the count. I couldn’t have fought back! Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he didn’t, it was just more then a little odd. I then did the smart thing and asked him, which turned out to me one of the most stupidest moves in the entire world.

“Hey, dude, Why didn’t you just kill us when I was down for the count?” I asked as I painfully dodged hits while “trying” to deliver ones of my own.

“I’m taking you to Vlad Plasimas. He has plans for you.” the ghost boomed out. If my eyes could have opened any wider, they probably would have fallen out. That falter that I made gave the ghost the perfect opening. He electrocuted me and I fell, unconscious. Halfway through my falling, he caught me and held me by my foot. I changed back, unknowingly. (I learned this all later, from Sam.) The ghost put ghost-proof cuffs around my hands and feet and shoved me into a portable cage. I was in for a very uncomfortable stay at Vlad Master’s house!

--

TIME SKIP

--

I awoke to a shooting pain up my side. I yelped and tried to jump up, only to realize my hands and feet were strapped down on a vertical table. I would have fallen off if I wasn’t strapped down. After a couple futile attempts at getting the straps to release, I lifted my head to actually look around. I found myself in the place I least wanted to be. Vlad’s lab. Actually, there was Vlad, looking forward at me with a smirk on his face.

“Why am I here Vlad?” I growled furiously. He smiled at me, the smile that I hated, the one that looked like he knew more then I did. And this time, he was right. He did know more then I did, and I was determined to stop that.

I hissed in rage and tried to phaze out of the straps. There was a sharp pain and I gasped. Vlad laughed and showed me the devise he was holding. The Plasimas Maximus.

“You knows what this does, boy.” he spit in my face and walked away. Halfway to the door he turned back to me.

“I brought some friends of mine, boy. They wanted revenge, and I am too much of a gentleman to deny them such pleasure.”

I winced slightly and turned my head away. I knew just what he was talking about. He brought my enemies from the ghost zone to tear me apart while I was helpless. Crap.

--

Time Skip (Again)

--

I was just laying there, shifting my feet and hands around, trying to get SOME blood moving through my hands and feet. They felt all tingly and hurt. A lot. I swear they were turning blue. Just then there was a polite knock at the door. That threw me. Vlad? Being Polite? This was new. Then, because I didn’t reply, there was a huge BOOM and the door fell down. Oops. There goes the polite approach I guess.

Vlad and Skulker strode through the door. Skulker smirked as he saw me, tied up and helpless. I tried to look like I wasn’t helpless, and I let out a fierce snarl. He just laughed. Thanks Skulker. Way to show fear there.

Vlad turned to Skulker and said, “You can have him for as long as you like, as long as you leave 3 hours in the day where I hit him with the Plasimas Maximus so he can’t heal up.” Skulker grinned and turned to me, pulling out a gun. I gulped, terrified, but tried not to show fear. Yeah, right.

Vlad turned halfway to the door and said nonchalantly, “Try not to kill him. I want to have fun with him first.” Oh. There goes the ‘no show fear’ tactic.

Skulker sauntered up to me, looking like a little kid who just got handed a brand new toy. With a sick realization, I grasped that I was the toy. Oh god. He lifted up the gun and put his finger on the trigger. I realized he was playing with my nerves; holding out the moment more the actually necessary. In slow motion I saw the finger move, the ball of light glow at the end of the gun, and the light travel over to me. Time sped up again as the light hit me.

I bit my lips so hard I tasted blood. I wouldn’t let Skulker have the satisfaction of hearing me scream in agony. Though that’s what I felt like doing. Burning pains made me try to convulse on the table, but I couldn’t because my hands and feet were held down. Suffering filled me and I couldn’t bear it anymore. My lips ripped open in a feral cry. My eyes, which were tightly closed, snapped open. My body burned like liquid fire was in my veins instead of blood.

Finally, heavenly, the pain diminished. It didn’t leave, not by a long shot, but faded enough for me to take a couple shuddering breaths of cool air and to let my body hang. Skulker stood up from where he was sitting on a chair, and smirked at me.

“Like it? I call it the Fire Thrower. Any ghost‘s, half or not, cells automatically reject it. The cells multiply to fight it off, which causes the chemical inside the gun to multiply as well, and pulse, giving off the feeling of liquid fire. It’s by far my favorite weapon. But the closer you are to your prey makes the gun work better.” I looked at him with suffering in my ice-blue gaze as I realized that I got the full brunt of the blow. He laughed. He actually Laughed. The sadistic freak.

“Ho--w --lo--ng?” I panted out. He snapped his head up.

“You can speak? You must be stronger than I thought! To answer your question, 3 hours.” Skulker said. Wow. It felt so much longer than that. Time slows when your in burning agony I guess. Just then a thought burned through me, this time a cold fire, waking me up from my pain-induced daze. 3 hours. That means the Plasimas Maximus must have worn off! Adrenaline filled me as I desperately tried to transform. I felt the familiar coldness of the rings, and I looked down. Yes!

Then a horrible electric shock ran through my body when I tried to phaze out of the straps. I panted as my white hair stood on end, and electric-induced spasms shook my body. Finally it stopped, and I didn’t bother to change back. Too much work now that I realized my powers couldn’t do anything in this situation.

Skulker looked at me. “Wow! The little whelp’s even got some fight left in him! Got to break that out of him now!” I groaned, ready for more pain. I saw that he had a long whip in his hands. I closed my now bright-green eyes. I could feel the pain radiating out of my two huge gashes in my middle. One from before from Mr. Hulk Ghost, and one from now.

Skulker took my arm and flipped my body over, exposing my back. He raised the long, glowing green whip, and brought it up. I squeezed my hands shut, waiting for the pain one slash of the whip would bring. He lifted the whip up and…. I bet you think someone is going to come to my rescue, like Sam and Tucker, or heavens forbid, Vlad. Nope. Skulker brought the whip down on the exposed flesh of my back. CRACK! My body arched as I tried to expel the pain that wrenched through my system. I could feel the blood running down my back, and the anti-ghost part of the whip made it feel like someone rubbed salt into my wound. I whimpered, but I was too tired to cry out. It took too much work.

Just then, Vlad walked in. I’m amazed I even can say this, but Vlad was my savior right then. “Stop now!” he called happily. Happily. God. “I could hear his screams upstairs. You must have had fun!” he said. Skulker pouted like a little kid who just got his toy taken away. Which pretty much just happened.

He turned to me and said, “So long Ghost Boy. I am looking forward to Round Two after your other enemies have had a turn. I won’t deny them a turn at the ecstasy I felt today!” I just glared at him, my eyes like liquid fire as they scorched anyone I laid eyes on. If looks could kill, Skulker would be dead on the floor. Again. Then he was gone and I was alone with Plasimas.

He walked up to me, and looked me straight in the eye. “This was just Round One Ghost Child.” he said as he stared at me. I glared back. “There will be plenty more where this came from. And there will be no escaping here.” he hissed as he took out a big silver collar from his bag he had. He snapped it on my neck with no rebellion from me. I was just too tired and hurt. I felt the little pieces of metal dig into my neck, ready to shock me if anything would trigger it. With that taken care of, he unhooked my cuffs.

Yes, I realized that this would have been the prime time to escape. But I was too tired and painful. So I just let him drag me, painfully I may add, to a little cell-like thing. It was pretty much a white room with no furniture the size of maybe 2 closets, with the door being one wall fully glass. He opened the door by having it read his eyeball (how do those things DO that?) and it slid open. He literally threw me inside, and I bounced a little before I hit the wall. I didn’t care though and slid down, leaning my head against the wall.

Vlad looked at his bag for a second like he was debating something, and then threw me a ratty blanket and a thin pillow, as well as a bottle of water and a loaf of bread. Then he slammed the door shut and locked it, and left me alone in the dark.

Wow. This was a little bit more bloody and angst-y then I thought. But it came out really good in my opinion! I never knew I could write like that. Hmm… hidden talents? JKLOL! I would like reviews, that would be cool, but I don’t need them. Remember, there WILL be a happy ending sooner or later! NO FLAMES PLEASE! This was JUST a random fic that was in my head from Angst Day, but wasn’t posted until 12 days after!