Ahah! I returneth! Well, not really. If any of you are wondering, I've really lost inspiration for "The Possessed". I may pick it up, I may not. But I really do appreciate all those wonderful reviews!
So anyway, here I am…. Posting a fanfic that doesn't fall under the Chrno Crusade category! Such a dramatic jump from there to Danny Phantom. I blame ChibiSamiSala. We recently began this fanfic as a roleplaying session, and now we've decided we're enjoying it enough to continue it and post it as an ongoing story.
Oh yeah, watch out. I got the honors of playing Danny. And if any of you have seen my Chrno Crusade work, I enjoy making the main character a sadistic bastard. Major OOC time! Yays!
This is an AU, just to give you a heads up. I suppose it's present time, still set in Amity Park, with most of the main characters still somewhat intact, with the exception of Danny, who is majorly OOC. I'll also point out that Sam and Tucker are still Freshman at Casper High, whereas our favorite ghost boy is seventeen. Three years difference, if you're as horrible at math as Danny is.
I do not own Danny Phantom, and neither does ChibiSamiSala! Though if we did, we'd probably screw it up big time. Now, on with the show!
The Ghost Prince
Ahh, she always liked going to that new age Goth club, especially during poetry time. She always got everyone snapping with her works, even though she didn't think she was quite as good a writer as they liked to tell her. Samantha, you better keep in touch when you become rich and famous. They would tell her, despite the fact that she would wave them off with a laugh. That would never happen, though it was nice to think of. Since her parents had divorced a few years back, she had moved out on her own, refusing money from either parent who seemed to think that pelting her with material items would win one of them favor over the other. It was difficult to make ends meet, but at 14 years old, she thought she was doing a pretty damn skippy job.
The sky opened up, and forced her to scramble to pull her umbrella out of her bag, snapping it open and huddling under the material as it began to downpour, causing a girl in front of her to scream, pulling the obnoxiously furred jacket over her head to shelter her from the rain. it looked like real Tiger skin, and the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian within the raven haired teen sparked in anger. "Excuse me ma'am!" She spoke up, frowning as she picked up her step. Any time was a good time for a sidewalk protest. "Ma'am! Can I have a moment to talk to you about your obvious love for slaughtering innocent animals? It'll only take a minute!"
The woman, obviously at least four, five years older than her, spun around with an incredulous look on her face as she so desperately tried to shield herself from the rain as if it were acid. At first she gave Sam a sort of confused look, but that quickly changed to one of the 'better-than-thou' alignment. "Slaughtering innocent animals my dear?" She nearly spat at the gothic girl. "Don't start preaching to me, Miss Peta. I can choose what or what I don't want to wear...god where did they go..." She began to look around, as if sluffing off the conversation like it wasn't even worth her time. She had most likely heard that kind of comment before, and it didn't seem like it bothered her much.
"You think the tiger wanted to give up its skin to you? How would you like it if people shot you down and skinned you to wear you as a jacket?" Sam snapped, picking up the pace as she followed her. "That tiger probably had a family and children. Now they've probably starved to death so you could have an overpriced jacket that you don't even take care of!"
The woman groaned loudly - because of Sam, or because she couldn't find whoever she was looking for, she didn't know. "Look you little pest, it's a free country. I have a job - something you should think about doing yourself, you dirty creature, so you can buy yourself some real clothes. I used the money I rightfully earned for this jacket. The whining voice of some gothic wannabe isn't going to make me stop buying fur. Now leave me alone before I catch Malaria or something from you..."
"I have a Job thank you very much! Two actually!" She snapped, placing her free hand on her hip. "And I don't have Malaria!" She followed her, their steps brisk, and the young girl didn't notice that they were moving into the part of the city she avoided, especially on dark nights.
"Oh for the love of..." The woman growled to herself, peering down various alleyways every now and then as she tried to quicken her pace in hopes of losing the menace that insisted on following her still. "You stubborn little brat, do you really have nothing better to do other than pestering people? If anything, you've hardened my resolve on making my entire wardrobe consistent of fur from your 'poor, innocent animals'."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam growled, the two of them rounding the corner, right into a group of heavily furred men, and none of them looked very happy. it was then that she realized that her little sidewalk protest had lead her into the wrong side of the city. "Well..." She said dryly, "That's where the rainforest went..."
"Oh, finally..." The woman sighed and placed her hands on her hips, motioning to the four men that came up to join her. "Nigel, Adam, will you two be oh so kind as to shut this little pest up? She's been annoying the shit out of me for ten minutes."
"Is that a Lemur dangling from your throat like a tie?" The raven haired girl asked in horror, pointing at the tall muscular man who seemed to be the ringleader.
Said man looked between the tiger woman and the Goth, before cracking his knuckles. "It would be my pleasure." He reached out and grabbed Sam's wrist in a crushing hold, chuckling as he dragged her into the alleyway, the other three men following closely to make sure no one saw.
"Don't worry little girl...we won't really hurt'cha." The second man folded his arms as the first threw her to the ground on the cold pavement of the secluded alley.
"Yeah, we'll make sure your death is swift... oh, but we must warn you, we're a bit rusty on our technique." Another laughed, cracking his knuckles with a sadistic grin on his face.
"I hope you were just as kind on your outfit." She said flatly, trying to hide the fear she had bubbling deep within her. What the Hell did she get herself into? She climbed to her feet, backing up as she held her wrist tenderly. It felt sprained, not that it would matter if she was dead.
Just as the three men (while one was standing watch next to the woman in the tiger coat) closed in on her, trapping her like a pack of wolves, a laugh broke the fatal silence that had once hung in the air. It was a smooth tenor voice, but with an obvious childish tone to it, along with an unexplained otherworldly echo. "My, my... this doesn't seem fair, does it?" The voice called from above, where a dark figure sat - but the white of his hair and several parts of his outfit seemed to glow from the streetlights. From below, the boyish figure looked only just that - a normal (if somewhat odd) teen that simply sat at the top of the building as if he were watching a play.
"Who the hell are you?" The ringleader snarled, pulling a pistol from his snake skin belt, and pointed it at the spectator. "This is none of your business little boy."
"Who ever you are, you better get out of here quick!" The Goth said quickly, backing up against the wall. She'd feel horrible if anyone else got hurt in this mess…
"Ooh A gun? Oh please sir - don't shoot me!" The obvious mock in the boy's tone carried well through the bleak walls of the alleyway. But the men didn't have time to respond as the figure seemed to literally disappear, before reappearing between the Goth girl and the ringleader, his hand swiftly catching the gun and bending the metal with a loud creak. "I'd hate to have to die again." His voice dropped several octaves before bright green eyes bore daggers through the man's skull - just before his white-gloved hand shone with the same ethereal green light and in a split second, sliced right through the offender's chest. A mere half of a second passed before the silver-haired boy's hand retreated, dripping with blood as he watched with a rather amused smile, the man fall to his feet, eyes rolled to the back of his head.
"Now then," His green eyes shone brightly as he gazed slowly up at the remaining three with that same sickly amused grin. Finally he was completely exposed in the light, as a boy around the age of seventeen with a tight black outfit that only portrayed white around his neck, waist, gloves and boots. A long trench-coat style bottom flared from the white belt around his waist, and an intricate insignia of silver adorned his chest. If anyone was so misinformed as not to recognize the attire, the faint white ethereal glow around his body and the abnormally colored eyes and hair would have been a dead giveaway. "Who's next?" He brought up the hand that was drenched in blood slowly, cracking his knuckles.
"G-G-Ghost!" One of the men howled in terror, trying to run away and trample over the other gang members. They cursed in fear, one of them trying to drag the dead body of their leader with them, until he realized it would weigh him down and he dropped the blood soaked form to the ground, tearing off around the corner.
Sam felt like she couldn't breathe, her back pressed up against the wall as much as she could, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He had just saved her...right? But he had just killed too... "T-Thanks..." She whispered, her black hair falling into her face as she tried not to look at the corpse that was in front of them.
He merely laughed softly to himself as he ignored her thanks for the time being and raised his hand, the familiar emerald glow reappearing around his fingers, before it shot off into four bullet-like structures, tearing through the air upwards before swiftly following the trail of the three men and woman. Not a few seconds later, cries of pain and death echoed down the empty streets. "There is no need to thank me. I was simply ridding this town of a few roaches... humans aren't the only ones who are annoyed by the likes of them." He softly turned on his feet, not making a sound, as if he wasn't really touching the ground. He took a few steps towards the raven-haired girl, noticing how her form was pressed tightly against the wall and shivering slightly with fear. The ghost grinned with amusement, having expected such a reaction from the beginning. In truth he was thoroughly enjoying himself, watching her as she hid behind her bangs, trying to figure out if she should be terrified or relieved.
"You didn't have to kill them though!" She said sharply, looking up at him with defiant violet eyes. "That's just...dropping to their level!" She shivered. She had never seen death before, and she wasn't sure how to handle it. "I-I have to be going, I have school tomorrow." She said softly, going to step around him.
"Oh, well then... forgive me." True sincerity was easily feigned since he had spent years practicing, as he mocked a bow towards her. But the moment she was about ready to pass him, he held out a hand and roughly took hold of her shoulder, gazing at her from an angle with those vibrant green eyes. "I did not know you wanted to die. Then... allow me to do the honors." He smiled in a very gentleman-like style, as he tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly, raising one hand that began to shine with that same foreboding emerald glow. The fact that he was able to touch her had to have been the first sign she was in deep shit, since only the most elite of ghosts could actually come in direct contact with humans. Before, he had used a sort of spell to kill the man that still lay dead before her, but now their contact was without sorcery.
Her heart felt like it was going to stop, and she took in a short breath, narrowing her eyes at him, violet meeting green. "I'm not scared of you." She said as strongly as she could, a part of her crying out that she was completely insane. He wouldn't really...would he?
"Ahh, good. Then this won't be nearly as hard on me." He simply mocked a shrug, before he roughly pulled her back and pinned her to the side of the brick wall. He quickly placed his glowing hand against her chest, right above her heart, the energy from the emerald light radiating through her skin and heating the area that was soon to be pierced to such a high temperature that one could have sworn she should have burned. "Come back as a ghost and maybe we'll hit it off better." He whispered with a sadistically low voice, before pulling back his hand and sharpening the aura around it in the same manner as he did before he killed the man that was laying there bleeding not two meters from them, an already horrible stench of death rising from it.
She stumbled as he threw her around against the brick wall, everything playing out so fast that she barely had time to register it, all she knew was the heat at her chest and that chilling green glow. She was going to die, she'd never see her parents again, Tucker, her school... She closed her eyes tight and recoiled from him, a scream bubbling up her throat and into the air.
And not a moment later, the fatal blow she had prepared herself for never came... instead, she felt a gentle hand tenderly tilt her chin up, as a pair of ice cold lips met hers, silencing her scream. The emerald glow slowly faded, as did the heat that once marked her chest like a pinpoint for a bullet. Glowing green eyes gazed down at the terrified form beneath him as he gently pulled away, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "I'll let you live... for now." He laughed softly before he completely disappeared, his form fading into the dark shadows of the alleyway... leaving the raven-haired girl alone in the secluded space that she once thought would be her grave.
She stood there for a few moments, panting as she tried to understand what had just happened, her lips cool from his, and she shivered, wrapping her arms about her self. He did not..."You bastard...that was my first..." She hissed to no one in particular, adrenaline pumping through her veins from the near death experience. She had to get out of here... The Goth girl picked her way around the corpses, trying not to throw up at the sight of their already rotting forms. There would be no bodies by morning she was sure...
"It was the scariest thing...I thought he was going to kill me...and then…" The dark haired girl placed her fingers against her lips, almost looking sickened. "He kissed me! I can't believe it, the sicko just wanted a rise out of me or something."
Tucker Foley simply stared at his best friend with a cross between disbelief and terror. "Wait a second... back up." He shook his head, pulling the Goth girl to a stop as they stood at the edge of the sidewalk, decently close to her house. "So you're saying a ghost just killed five people... then kissed you? After all that?" He gave her a skeptical look. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming or something? You know how that gothic club can have dope crawling all over the walls... you were probably hallucinating."
She held up her wrist to him, where thick bands of bruises lay. "Does this look like I was dreaming!" She asked frustrated, "He had white hair, and was wearing all black. He was so powerful, but he didn't look like he was more then a few years older then us." She sighed, climbing on the bus, saving a seat for her only friend. "He had the most brilliant green eyes..." She mumbled.
For a moment it looked as though Tucker was slowly beginning to accept she didn't have a completely whacked-out dream, but his calm realization turned to that of pure horror as she began to describe the ghostly attacker. "S-SAM!" He screamed, though it was in a fairly hushed voice. He quickly sat down next to her, holding her by her shoulders. "Are you serious! Sam, that was the Phantom! Danny Phantom? You had to have heard his name on the news." He took a short breath. "He's the Ghost Prince... he's still young for a ghost, but he already has power to rival the King... he's been committing murder streaks for nearly ten years."
She blinked up at him, frowning. "You can't be serious. Why would he be interested in me of all people?" She muttered, "If anything, Paullina should be the one he should be kissing. She's head over heels for him." She would never understand that girl.
"Who said he was 'interested' in you...Sam, that guy is a sadistic creep. He probably just wanted to see you squirm." He frowned, a disgusted look washing over his face as if he just now realized that everything that happened to his friend last night had to have been a pure nightmare. "Or maybe he really did do something to you... you should probably stop by the Fenton's after school, they'll be able to detect any sort of abnormality if it's ghost-related. We'll see Jazz at lunch anyway."
"I didn't mean like that." She growled, running her hand through her hair. "But your right..." She placed her fingers over her lips. "Hopefully I wont explode before lunch." she said flatly.
"Well I'm sure if you're worried, you could run off before school starts, and explain to Mr. Lancer why you left. Ghosts are a big deal, especially in this town. I'm sure no one at the school would protest if you came in contact with Phantom." He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but on the inside, he was probably more horrified than Sam was. There was no telling what that scene from last night meant... he really hoped Phantom wouldn't follow her, as he sometimes does with victims. His style was quite possibly the worst, next to his father. He usually tore at a person's sanity, making their lives a living Hell before finally forcing them through an agonizingly slow and painful death. Yes, he was certainly the most famous of all the ghosts, since his father rarely left the Ghost world. "And if you ever see that creep again, you really need to tell someone. Even your parents, Sam. I don't think you know how big of a deal this is."
"My parents wouldn't care. All I am is a leg up on one another. I'm just a possession." She said sharply, frowning. "But I think I will...go to the Fentons." She sighed, as the bus pulled into the school. The damn thing was always a good half an hour early, forcing them to get up far earlier then they liked to. "Don't worry Tucker, I'll be alright." She sighed, squeezing her best friend's shoulder, standing up as the door to the bus opened, and she double timed it to her first period to explain to Mr. Lancer why she was going to leave. The mention of the phantom gave her the entire day off, not for her own protection, but for the schools. If the Phantom was really following her, she was endangering the school. "Oh don't I feel important." She muttered to herself as she left school grounds, heading towards the Fenton place.
Since Fenton Works was probably a mile or two away from the school, Sam had plenty of time to think about what to ask the pair of ghost hunters, and how to sort out the events that happened last night. Or, she would have, had a certain ghost not have other plans for her. In mere minutes after she started walking, an eerily cool air seemed to follow at her feet, and slowly crept up her legs and to her entire body as she continued to walk. By the five minute mark, it should have been so painstakingly noticeable that she would have been tempted to put on ski gear from the temperature drop.
She shivered, looking around confused. The sun was bright and warm, she shouldn't be so freezing unless... She huddled her thin hoodie closer, looking around. "I know you're out there!" She said loud and defiant. "Show yourself!" She wasn't sure if calling him out was a good idea, but she was sure that he wanted her to notice that he was there.
"Ahh, so she is the perceptive type." Laughter echoed from no one specific point around her, as if the voice came from the air. But before she had time to look around and ponder where the voice was coming from, a pair of cold hands gently set on her shoulders from behind, the now materialized voice of Phantom whispering in her ear. "Hello, Sammy."
She jumped, whirling around to face him, the fact that he knew her name registering with frightening accuracy in her mind. He must have been following her or doing some snooping to find that out. "It's Samantha. I don't like to be called that, Danny Phantom." She lifted her voice, backing up towards one of the trees that lined the sidewalk. "That is who you are right..."
"Yes, yes...your friend, Tucker, was it? You might want to thank him. I was beginning to wonder if you truly hadn't heard of me..." The ghost boy mocked another bow like he had the night before. As the distance between them grew, he looked up at her with those mischievous green eyes. "Oh come now Sammy, I don't bite. Unless of course, you want me to..."
"I'd rather you not." She said a little too quickly, as if expecting him to chomp on her right then and there. "Why are you following me?" She asked, planting her feet and standing there before him. She really didn't want to lead him right to the Fenton's.
He blinked for a moment, a look of pure innocence plastered on his face as he tapped his chin with a thoughtful finger, looking up towards the sky. "Why? Hm... Curiosity, I suppose... though it breaks my heart that you think I really enchanted you? Believe me, if I really wanted to, I could cast a spell on you that the Fenton's wouldn't be able to detect; but I have done no such thing." He smiled at her with interest, before stepping forward, his feet carrying an ethereal whisp of light as he walked, the grass not even bending under his weightlessness. Carefully, he lifted a hand up towards her face, gently brushing away some of her raven-colored strands. "You know, you certainly are a mystery... proclaiming to have no fear of ghosts, when terror floods from your aura so greatly, it's as if I'm drowning in it."
She flinched as he touched her, not sure if she should believe him or not. Tucker had said that the phantom liked to play games... But she had long since known that nothing was solved from running away... "While I appreciate the compliment...I think..." She tried to keep her cool, but his proximity was making her nervous. "I really should be going..." Maybe he'd just let her go... the hopeful part of her piped up.
"Ah yes, to see the Fentons?" He asked in an almost cheery voice, but not stepping back to give her enough space to leave. "Such a peculiar bunch... though the only real threat to ghosts comes from the wife." He seemed to be lost in thought, but he was voicing every opinion that came to mind. He must not talk to people much, since his social skills were at best, sub-par. Or maybe he had simply given up on trying to please people. Probably the latter. "But of course, you do realize, Sammy..." He smiled, the familiar hint of sadistic enjoyment apparent once again in his green eyes. "That no matter what you do, no matter who you try to seek refuge in... there isn't anything you can do to stop me." He leaned forward and whispered slowly in her ear. "You are mine now." And with that, his form faded from sight like he had the night before, leaving Sam still cowering against the tree.
Her heart felt like it had stopped the moment he spoke her name, the cold chill of his breath on her ear making her shudder. It didn't want to register in her mind...what the Hell had she done to catch his attention? Hell, no one in school noticed her, why would some prince from another dominion come out in the middle of the day to lay claim on her! She closed her eyes, cursing under her breath as she worked the stiffness out of her fingers and walked quite a bit quicker towards the Fenton abode.
For those of you who have actually read this to the end, and you're wondering what the title means, it's Latin for a word with two meanings – one being "to haunt", and the other being "to fear, or worry". I thought that was a descent name, seeing as how I've made Danny into a sadistic bastard. Hellz yeah. But he'll change….over time…. Hopefully. If not, Sam's neck-deep in shit. And yes, there is a reason why Danny refuses to call her "Sam". Don't think about it too much though, because it's probably a lot more simple than you think.
The next update will be on June 28th!