Ella "L" Phantom
Second Generation Phantom
By: Danielle Fenton
Chapter Two: Mostly Ghostly
I woke in a very odd place. A place I recognized, though I'd only been here once. The Ghost Zone. How had I gotten here?! I didn't remember anything beyond a flash of lightning then passing out… And now I was in a place that I definitely recognized as the Ghost Zone, although admittedly it was a place I'd never seen before. Everything under and surrounding was white, only the gap in the top of this seeming gigantic white bubble revealing the swirly green and black skies of the Ghost Zone.
I stood shakily, groaning when I realized I was no longer in my normal school outfit (baggy jeans a one sleeved tank top and various colors of beatnik sandals) but in a strange jumpsuit like thing. It was black and silver, reminding me of…. Oh Nooooo! It was an inverted version of my Dad's jumpsuit as Phantom…. Silver where his outfit was black. I couldn't help but wonder if my appearance had changed as well. Apparently I had also been cleaned and dried off, because I wasn't sopping wet and dirtied by the trash-filled alley like I was supposed to be.
With a somewhat petulant moan, I staggered somewhat shakily to one of the bubble's walls. A mirror appeared in the middle of the dome, as soon as I had touched to the white curved wall. Curious, I walked (or, rather, floated since I must have been in ghost form) over to the mirror. What I saw made me scream in redoubled panic.
I had white hair. My eyes glowed ectoplasm green. I sank to my knees again. Why oh why did I have to inherit my Dad's very image, even in ghost form? Tears of loneliness beaded in my eyes at the memories.
I burst into tears when I heard the familiar greeting of the Box Ghost. I was SO NOT ready to deal with him and his annoyingness. The sight of a ghost child bursting into tears was apparently unfamiliar to him; the Box Ghost simply floated there, scratching his head in confusion. A tentative blue hand was put on my shoulder after my storm of noisy crying had gone on for a few minutes.
"Err…. Young lady…. You need not fear me… There there…. Please stop crying…"
I sniffled. What a low, to be comforted by the Box Ghost. Looking up at him, I saw traces of panic in the ghost's eyes. It eased as he saw me stop crying. He grinned relieved and removed his hand.
"That's better. Beware!"
He seemed slightly embarrassed, but I knew the "BEWARE!" thing was a habit for him. I floated up, finally getting the hang of floating upright.
"Thanks. Umm, do you know how I get out of here?"
He seemed befuddled until a pink ghost bolt hit him from behind. I yelped in protest as Vic grabbed me from behind by the scruff. Wiggling and kicking, I tried to get loose but Vic was having none of it.
"Viiiiiiicc! Lemme go! You didn't have to blast the Box Ghost! He was being nice…"
Vic simply rolled his crimson eyes and floated upward, a sulking me in his ghostly hand. Crossing my arms, I pouted as we soared along. I didn't want to fight Vic, and I knew he wouldn't truly harm me. He never had.
Let me explain. When I first met Vic, I called him Watcher. This is because, ever since I can remember, Vic has protected me. Every time I ended up in the middle of one of my parents' ghost fighting missions, a pink force shield would cover me until the fight was over. Occasionally a pink ecto blast would knock away any ghosts who dared to get too close. For a while, my parents thought it was my own powers developing. Not so. I knew it was someone else because I had heard his voice before.
Watcher would visit me when I couldn't sleep. I would feel his presence before I heard or saw him. He would speak to me occasionally, when I needed it. Watcher, now named Vic, was my dearest friend. Yeah I know I said Grace is my best friend, but there's a difference between a friend you just talk to and a friend who saves your butt on a regular basis AND you get to talk to. Vic was the one who had comforted me through my father going missing. I probably wouldn'y have made it through without him.
His fake body (a white painted mannequin with black hair) floated along as I tugged away, slowly getting the hang of floating along next to him. Wait. This was fun! I started to fly faster, fly in a wavy line, and finally I braved a loop the loop. The adrenaline rush was AMAZING!
"WOOOOOOOO! WHEEEEE! Hahahaha!"
I could see why Dad had said flying was his favorite part of being a halfa. It was Mom's favorite part too actually, especially when Dad took her for a fly. It must have been the adrenaline rush, because I howled just for kicks and laughed at myself afterwards. After that ghostly wail incident, I had barely raised my voice above normal volume. Even though Grandpa Jack was getting to where he was half deaf. At least Grandma Maddie still heard well enough to explain to Granddaddy AND go on the occaisional ghost hunt mission. Then again, Grandma Maddie would never be too old to ghost hunt (that's what she thinks). But, after she realized Daddy was a halfa, she had more of a respect towards ghosts. So did Grandpa Jack. Mostly.
Vic rolled his eyes and paused to let me have my fun in my first flight. Let me tell you, it didn't last.