More Invasion for you.  

Warning for a few moments of higher-rated terror concepts in this chapter.  Remember that this story is firmly rated ‘T’ (aka PG-13).

Real Life
A Danny Phantom FanFiction by Cordria

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(Chapter 13)

In Which Nightmares Come True

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…The vast majority of this whole chapter didn’t exist originally.  It just completely ran away from me and made its own chapter.  *shakes head sadly*  And I’m not all too happy with large sections of it.  But whatever.

Danny curled up in his bed later that night, closing his eyes and praying that he would fall asleep quickly.  His parents had finally stopped banging around in the lab and silence had fallen, leaving Danny able to try to turn off the world and escape to the safety of dreamland.

Of course, the nagging reminder that he still hadn’t done his math homework wasn’t helping, and neither was his throbbing ankle.  It still hurt like crazy from when he’d twisted it a few hours earlier, although the swelling had vanished and his mother had declared it ‘just fine’.

Danny’s going to be a quick healer in this story.  The twisted ankle will be gone by morning.  This is my ‘fix’ to the continuity errors in the actual show.

The fact that it was only 8:30 and the sun hadn’t set yet was also keeping Danny awake.  He squeezed his eyes shut and put a pillow over his head, blocking out the late evening sunlight.  All he wanted to do was forget about this weekend from hell and move on with his life.  Nobody should have to remember the things he had done over the weekend: fighting with that metallic ghost, meeting that demonic man, completely succumbing to his ghost side just because he walked near the portal…  Unfortunately for Danny, each of the memories was crystal clear in his mind.

To make attempting to fall asleep all the worse, Danny could still feel the portal.  It was a distant, quiet hum in the background, a soft tickle on the back of his mind.  He hadn’t ever been able to feel it from his room before; this was something new and it bothered him.  It was just another piece of proof that his ghost side was getting stronger.

Danny forced himself to relax and he pushed everything out of his mind, breathing deeply.  “’Snot so bad,” he whispered to himself, trying to force himself to believe it.  “Everything will be alright tomorrow.”  His mind focused on something soothing – rainbows, for some reason – and Danny slowly lost himself in their prismatic colors.  Dancing in the rain, arms thrown open wide, rainbows shimmering overhead…

And eventually Danny drifted off to sleep to the almost calming drone of the ghost portal.

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I wrote this… and I’m not entirely sure why.  *shrug*  I added it in part so that Danny could get totally and completely FREAKED, add on a layer of angst… but (honestly) I did it mostly so that I could have fun.  It’s not really all that important to the overall plot and kind of wastes a chapter.  ^^;  But it’s a neat glimpse into evil!Danny.

Danny was in his ghost form, his claws digging into the ground, his white hair hanging into his eyes.  There was an insane glint to his green eyes as he tore after his prey.  The creature was running, the waves of emotions flooding off of it ringing against Danny’s mind.  They smelled incredible, but they were so much more than just a scent.  Their taste, their feel, their pure glory sizzled through Danny’s body, egging him to run faster and catch up with the thing throwing these emotions into the world.

Chase.  Run.  Fear.

A small section of Danny’s mind was disgusted by the realization that it was the fear leeching into the air that tasted the best, but that tiny piece of him couldn’t do much more than sit back and cross his arms in frustration as a howling wail burst out of Danny’s mouth.  The creature he was chasing – his food – let out a tidal wave of terror at the sound.  Danny grinned as the crest of emotional energy slammed into him, his fangs glinting in the moonlight and his eyes glowing brightly at the sudden increase in energy.

Danny used that burst of energy to push himself further into the human world and make himself more present in the physical world.  He felt the ground shift under his claws and the human air tousled his hair as he raced to catch up with his food.  His prey was becoming clearer and easier to see as he slipped into the human realm, edging close enough to make out its black hair and ripped clothes, even in the dark of the night.  “Mine,” he laughed crazily, bounding into the air and flying for a moment to get in front of his dinner.

The human slid to a stop and scrambled back to its feet, its violet eyes wide and horror filling the air between them.  “D-D-Danny…” the human stuttered, backing away.

Danny followed his food, grinning so that it would be able to see his sharp teeth, pleased at the sharp spike of fear that fizzled into the air at the gesture.  “Come here,” he purred, slinking through the moonlight, loving every moment of the terror that seemed to be holding it frozen in place.  The closer he got, the more powerful the energy it was giving off, the better he felt.  If only he could actually touch it…

“No!” it screamed when he drifted to within a dozen feet, turning and racing away from him.  

Scowling at the small show of defiance, Danny chased after it.  His food wasn’t allowed to run away!  He was determined to know what it felt like to hold his prey as it shivered in terror, so afraid that it was hovering on the brink of scaring itself to death.  How alive would he feel at that moment when it actually died from its fear?  How perfect a moment would that be?

This is not really the motivation for a lot of ghosts… but I figure Danny’s strong enough as a ghost that maybe it fits.

He smiled as he raced, chuckling when his prey turned down a dark alley and came up short against a chain-link fence.  “Mine,” he breathed loud enough for the human to hear, listening to it whisper and echo off the alley walls.  A cold wind whipped down the alley, making the human draw its arms closer to it and shiver.

The human was breathing loudly and shakily, its entire body trembling, its mini skirt and ripped tank top doing nothing to protect it from the cold.  Danny was almost sure that it was done running, ready to give in to the terror that was coursing around it and simply collapse to the ground in defeat, but it somehow gritted its teeth and turned to clamber over the fence.  

Sam (yes, if you hadn’t figured it out) was originally supposed to be wearing the same clothes that she shows up at school in later in the story.  Thus Danny’s surprised look then.  But I drop that little bit of plot… kinda.  I just never really bring it up, since I didn’t know what I was trying to do with it or why I would’ve thrown it in there.

As it landed noisily on the other side and started to run away, its boots sounding loud in the darkness, Danny snarled.  Yes, the thrill of a long hunt was probably going to make the human’s final moments all the more delicious, but it was testing his patience.  He stalked forwards, his own feet not making a sound as he walked, and phased straight through the fence.  His prey had vanished into the shadows on the other side, but Danny could track the scent of its fear without pausing.  

Drifting into the air and flying over the top of the building, Danny caught up to his target as it was leaving the alley and racing past some of the store fronts in Amity Park.  Enough of this, he thought, landing within arms’ reach of his food.  “Mine,” he growled, reaching out to grab it before it could turn and run away again.

The human managed to jerk its arm out of his grasp, his claws digging deeply into its bare arm and blood spurting out of the gashes.  In its fear, it turned the wrong way and ran head-long into one of the large windows of the store.  The window cracked from the force and the human rebounded, landing heavily on the sidewalk with trails of blood slipping out from its hair.  “No…” it sobbed.  “Go away!”

I’m perfectly aware that running into a window doesn’t crack them, not the windows of today.  No picking on this one.  It’s a dream, I can do whatever I want.

Danny walked forwards, crouching inches away from his prey.  “Beautiful rainbow,” he whispered, reaching out a bloody claw to trail his finger over its face.  Amethyst eyes turned to look up at him, wide and filled with terror.  “I want to feel you die.”

I like that phrase.  Beautiful rainbow.  Watch for it to come back.

“D-Dan-Danny... p-please…” it rasped, shuddering and trying to slide away from him.  “It’s me.  It-it’s Sam.  Pl-please.”

Long past words, Danny focused on the fear that was giddily playing through him.  He could see where they were coming from – a place deep in the human’s chest – and he moved his hand from its face to its chest, pressing against its skin.  His hand was burning with pleasure from being so close to the source of the human’s fear.  “More,” he breathed.  If only he could get his hand closer… wrap it around that spot… draw it into himself… “Die…”

“DANNY!” the human shrieked as his hand twisted intangible and reached forwards.  

Locked deep within his own mind, Danny screamed.

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“DANNY!”

Danny jerked away, his eyes wide and his throat raw, scrambling away from the hands that were touching him.  He came up short against the wall, his breath struggling to make its way in and out of his chest.  A light flicked on and Danny shut his eyes in pain, still shivering in terror.

“Danny…”

He recognized his mother’s voice, swallowing heavily and focusing on getting his breathing to slow down.  His head dropped back against the wall and he tried to relax.  It was just a dream.  Just a dream.

YES, I know I over did the dreaming thing in Pits.  One dream in here ain’t so bad.  No suing yet.  If I get dream-happy again, please feel free to hit me.

“Danny, are you okay?”

Opening his eyes, blinking through the tears as his eyes adjusting, he nodded.  “Nightmare,” he said as way of explanation, surprised at how much his throat hurt.  He licked his lips and took a deep breath, forcing his hands to stop shaking.  It didn’t work nearly as well as he would have liked.

His mother sank onto the bed next to him.  “You were really screaming,” she said softly, reaching out and brushing her hand across his forehead.  “Must have been some nightmare.”

Danny shrugged.  Glancing up at the door, he flushed when he saw both his sister and his dad standing quietly in the doorway.  One of them must have been the ones to turn on the lights earlier.

“You haven’t woken up screaming since you were four,” Maddie added.  “What was it about?”

Danny was silent for a long moment, staring blankly at the floor.  “Stuff,” he finally muttered.  He wanted to tell her what it was about, but she wouldn’t listen to his ghost problems anymore.  His shoulders slumped a little at the thought.  “It was just a nightmare.  Sorry I woke you up.”

A hand touched his shoulder and Danny looked up into his mother’s worried eyes.  A smile crossed her face after a second and she squeezed his shoulder briefly.  “I haven’t gotten to serve you ice cream at two in the morning for ten years.  Come on, I’ve got some in the freezer.”  

Totally stolen from my all-time-favorite-drabble-ever-written-in-any-fandom by chaos.  Hope she doesn’t mind.

When he opened his mouth to tell her it was okay, he didn’t need ice cream, she cut him off.  “You’re not going to be able to go right back to sleep anyway.”  She waited a moment for his nod before standing up to shoo Jazz and Jack back to bed.  

Danny pulled his blanket around his shoulders and followed her quietly down into the kitchen, plopping into a chair while she busied herself scooping out two bowls of fudge-swirl ice cream.  “I’m kind of impressed this ice cream’s lasted as long as it has,” she said when she set a bowl and spoon in front of Danny.  “Your father usually eats anything containing fudge within an hour or so.”

Danny found a small smile on his face as he picked up the spoon and ate a few bites.  “He probably doesn’t know it’s in the freezer yet.”

“How did your morning go with him yesterday while I was shopping?” Maddie asked between bites.  “I meant to ask earlier and I forgot all about it.  He didn’t talk too much about that portal of his, did he?”

“No.”  Shaking his head, Danny licked a drip that was making its way down his spoon towards his fingers.  “We worked on the stuff from that hunting cabin.”  

“Hm,” she murmured, falling silent as she ate her ice cream.  

Danny focused on getting the ice cream from the bowl to his mouth, trying hard not to remember his nightmare.  A shudder slipped through him as a brief flash of the dream drifted into his mind – chasing after Sam in the dark of night, her screaming and in terror.  I’m not going to get any more sleep tonight, he thought distantly.  He knew that every time he closed his eyes, he’d see Sam’s fear-filled eyes gazing back at him.

“Are you going to tell me what the dream was about?”

Blinking at the sudden sound of her voice after the long period of silence, Danny glanced up at his mom and shook his head.

She smiled.  “It’ll make you feel better.  It always used to, anyways.  You used to love sitting at the table, eating ice cream, telling me the horrors of your nightmares.”

Danny snorted.  “I bet my dreams weren’t too scary when I was four.”

“You’d be surprised,” Maddie said softly.  “You had one incredible imagination.  There were a number of nights when you’d talk yourself back to sleep and I’d be the one up all night with the lights on.”  She grinned, swirling her melting ice cream and gazing out the dark kitchen window for a moment before focusing back on him.  “So spill.”

“A ghost was chasing Sam,” Danny finally muttered.

“Sam, huh?” Maddie said with a grin.

Flushing a little at the tone of his mother’s voice, Danny scowled.  “You want to hear it or not?”

She brought up her hands in a surrender gesture.  “I’ll stay quiet.”

“A ghost was chasing Sam.  He… it wanted to kill her.  To feed off of her terror until she scared herself to death.  I… it chased her all over town… down a dark alley…”  Danny broke off with a shiver, closing his eyes for a moment.  The nightmare was still crazily fresh in his mind.  “She ran away, but it followed.  It cornered her and really hurt her…”

He felt a hand touch his and his eyes opened.  Maddie was gazing at him with sympathy in her eyes.  “It… reached inside of her,” Danny continued softly, his eyes training down on his ice cream.  “It was going to rip out her soul, Mom.  And all I could do was watch.”  

The swirls of fudge in the melting ice cream didn’t look nearly as appetizing as they had a few moments earlier.  Confessing this dream had brought back a whole slew of emotions that churned his stomach.  One of the worst being delight.  He had enjoyed how she’d felt in his dream… and a piece of him still did.

See?  I did this for the torment.  XD

He pushed his ice cream away and buried his head in his arms, nauseous and disgusted with himself.  The claws that had been on his hands had felt so natural, the fangs in his mouth fitting like he’d been born with them.  There hadn’t been a thought in his head to stop chasing his best friend – it had all felt too wonderful.  He’d never felt anything like it and it had completely blown him away.

A not-so-small part of him wanted to feel it again.

“That ghost was nothing but a monster,” he whispered.  “A demon, Mom.  It lived for terror and it loved it.”

There was a few seconds of silence before his mother spoke.  She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.  “Danny, you have to remember that ghosts aren’t people.  They’re just… things.  They don’t have any concept of ethics or moral right and wrong.  They just do what they do.”

Danny looked up at her, studying the calm look in her eyes and wishing that he could tell her more than he had.  She looked like she had all of the answers, the small smile on her face hiding a library of information on the paranormal.

“There’s lots of theories about ghosts,” she said, sitting back in her chair and popping another bite of ice cream into her mouth.  “None of it is considered ‘credible’ science by a lot of researchers, but a lot of it has a huge basis in fact and research.  One of them is the idea that ghosts feed on or exist because of human emotion.  The theory is that human emotion – some sort of emanation of human spirits or souls – is actually a form of unknown energy.  Ghosts are made up of this energy and feed off it.”

Hm… if I remember where this theory came from – it’s a real theory – I’d stick in a link here.  But I can’t remember.  ^^;

“I thought you said ghosts were made of ectoplasm.”  Danny watched her eat, wanting to hear more of his mother’s theory.  Her voice was soothing, momentarily chasing away the remnants of his nightmare.

She smiled.  “There’s no difference, according to theory.  Plasma is a form of energized matter… so if you could give energy a physical form, it would manifest as plasma.  Ectoplasma, in this case.”

Fishy science.

Her eyes were a bit distant as she thought.  “The ghost from your nightmare, though… it would fit pretty well – no morals, no ethical ability to see Sam as anything other than food.  It wouldn’t ever have been able to comprehend a human as something more than that.  According to this theory anyways, ghosts are completely made up of that emotional energy and, due to that, they’re not capable of feeling anything except the certain emotions that it consisted of.  All the ghost would have understood was that Sam was food, that what it was doing was making Sam ‘taste’ better, and that it was enjoying it.”

Danny shivered at how close his mother’s description was coming to what it had actually felt like.  “And…?” he asked when she didn’t speak for a moment.

“You wouldn’t have been able to ‘logic’ the ghost,” she said, smiling.  “Human reason would have been completely lost on it.  I doubt there would have been anything you could have done to chase the ghost away from Sam.”  She shook her head, eating the last bite of her ice cream before continuing.  “Nobody has ever died because of ghosts, Sweetie.  They can’t hurt you and you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“But what if there’s a ghost that could?” Danny pressed, sitting up when his mother grabbed their bowls to bring them to the sink.  “What if there was a ghost that was human enough to kill people?”

Maddie threw a glance over her shoulder, her eyebrow arched in surprise.  “That’s not possible, Danny.  Ghosts can’t become more human-”

“But what if it was?” Danny interrupted.  

She set the bowls into the sink.  “A creature with no morals, completely driven by emotional highs, and capable of actually doing damage?”  She shivered and then laughed softly.  “You’ve still got the same imagination you did when you were four.  That’s one creepy thing you’ve dreamed up.”  Her eyes drifted to his and her smile vanished at the earnest look on his face.  “That kind of thing would kill without remorse, without care, and without stopping.  We’d have to destroy it.”

Let’s rip it apart MOLECULE BY MOLECULE!  *bwa-hahahah!*  

…don’t look at me like that.  It had to start at some point.

Danny stared into his mother’s eyes, his breath hitching in his throat.  She’s talking about me…  “And you could do that?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” she said firmly.  She walked over to him and knelt down so that their eyes were level, her gaze steady.  “It wouldn’t ever be able to hurt you or Jazz or Sam or anyone.  You don’t need to worry.  If something like that ever could happen, we’d stop it.”

But it is me, Danny cried in his own mind, tearing his gaze away from hers and studying the floor. Would you destroy me?  Would you save Sam from your own son?

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” she murmured.

Not in a million years.  He shook his head.

“Me either,” she sighed.  “Let’s get a movie.”

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I don’t like this part at all.  *pouts*  It doesn’t work right and it’s just not… right.  But it suits its ultimate purpose of recapping and setting up for a scene in the next chapter.

Sam’s mind was in the clouds as she walked down to breakfast.  Her alarm clock had woken her far too early and she’d muddled her way through getting ready for the day.  She was still dreamy and deep in thought when she stepped into the kitchen to find something to eat.

“Morning,” she said sleepily to her mom as she pulled the box of oatmeal and a bowl out of the cabinet, pouring herself a bowl of the dry oats.

“Good morning,” Pamela answered, never taking her head out of her newspaper.  “Sleep well?”

Sam nodded, not caring if her mother saw the motion or not.  Pouring some hot water into a tea kettle and setting it on the stove to boil, Sam let her eyes half-close and she groggily watched the burner drift from black to bright red.  

It was most definitely a Monday, Sam figured.  Nothing but school could compel her to leave the warm comfort of her bed to seek out the dazzling sunlight.  Of course, the fact that it was finally Monday brought with it a few decidedly interesting issues.

The biggest one being her best friend.  Danny, she thought.  I wonder how the rest of his weekend went.  

Danny yanked Sam’s mind in two very different directions.  On the one hand, this was her best friend – someone she trusted and cared about like family.  The fact that he was going through such a tough time, obviously terrified and unable to understand what he was going through, made her feel awful… especially since her stomach twisted with guilt every time she thought about it.  It had been her fault he’d been in that portal to begin with.  She wanted to help him more than anything.

Except there was that other hand.  The scared and confused other hand that shivered whenever the image of Danny popped into her mind.  The Danny with his burned skin and death-white hair and eyes that gazed hungrily straight into her very soul.  The Danny that had confessed that yes, he was feeding off of her.  The Danny that had no humanity and no life inside of him.

The Danny that Sam wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from as possible.

It made for an interesting issue – one that Tucker and her had spoken about for hours the previous day after leaving the library.  Both of them felt nearly the same; they wanted to help and they wanted to run away at the same time.  The problem of how to help.  Neither of them had managed to come up with any sort of information on Danny’s particular problem.  The only thing they had was Vlad Masters.

Tucker was against telling Danny about Mr. Masters, mostly due to the fact that the only tiny shred of proof that Mr. Masters was anything like Danny was how Sam had felt standing next to him, and that was really nothing at all.  Danny’s got enough on his plate to not have to deal with ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s, Tucker had argued.  We’ll research it.  If we can find anything – anything at all – we’ll tell him.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as she gazed at the tea kettle on the stove.  She had wanted to tell Danny everything.  Danny deserved to know what she thought about Mr. Masters, especially after he’d told them that he’d run into something in the woods that might have been a creature like himself.  Although, Sam conceded to herself, Danny did say that he didn’t want to be anything like the man in the woods.  

By the end of their hours of talking the previous day, Sam and Tucker had come to an agreement: neither would mention Vlad Masters to Danny.  Tucker was going to do some research, look a few things up, try to find some kind of information that might be useful, and if he found anything, they would tell Danny all about it.  

The knowledge that they were going to be keeping secrets from Danny weighed on Sam’s heart.  It didn’t help that she knew Danny was already keeping secrets from them – it still burned a little hole in the back of her mind.  Sam liked to speak her mind about things and be very blunt and honest.  Secrets and backstabbing weren’t her forte.

When the tea kettle started to whine and whistle, Sam blinked herself out of her musings and quietly poured the boiling water onto her oatmeal, stirring it until it was the perfect consistency.  Then she plunked down at the table, fully intending on continuing to ignore her mother and stay wrapped up in her own sleepy thoughts.

Her mother, though, seemed to be on a different thought pattern.  “Do you want some sugar?”

Sam shook her head and spooned some of the lumpy mash into her mouth.  

“I got you a new outfit this weekend.”

Sam froze, the spoon hovering just over the top of the oatmeal.  She slowly raised her gaze to stare at her mother.  “Huh?”

Pamela smiled, folding up her newspaper and setting it down on the table.  “There was a sale this weekend and I saw this adorable outfit.  I knew it would look beautiful on you!”

Looking down at her clothes, Sam arched an eyebrow.  Her clothes were dark and loose, comfortable and covering, the perfect thing to keep from standing out while at school.  And, as it so happened, the bane of her mother’s existence.  Sam refused to count how many times her mother had tried to get her to dress in something more ‘appropriate’.  “I’m already dressed,” she mumbled.

“You don’t show off your Manson beauty,” her mother said with a smile.  “A bit of makeup, maybe some hair product, and a pretty dress.  You’d be the talk of the school, I’m sure.”

Yeah, Sam thought sourly, that I would be.  They’d talk and point and laugh… endlessly.  “I like how I look.”

“You’ll never get a boy looking like that.  Just try it on?”

‘Just try it on’ sounded so innocent – just a few moments of torture to appease her mother’s sense of duty – but Sam knew better.  ‘Just trying it on’ would inevitably lead to ‘just for one day’, which would lead to places Sam didn’t want to venture.  Since it was too early on a Monday morning for Sam to be anything but her normal, blunt, honest self, her answer was quick and simple: “No.”

“Please, Sammikins.”

Sam wrinkled her nose at the nickname.  “I look just fine the way I am,” she argued.

Pamela’s forehead creased in confusion.  “You don’t show off any of your curves, dear.  You’re so… frumpy.”

Frumpy’s a word, right?

“I don’t want to show off curves,” Sam said, her voice getting a little heated.  “I like frumpy.”

“But a skirt and some makeup… maybe a pair of heels… that would make you look like the gorgeous young woman you really are.  Maybe you could impress that Dash Baxter I’ve been hearing about from Mrs. Sanchez.”

Sam’s fingers tightened around the spoon she was holding.  “Dash Baxter is a bully and an idiot.”

“Maybe someone else then.  There aren’t any cute boys at your school?”

“I don’t want to impress any boys!” Sam said, anger rising in her voice.  “The boys at my school are immature and disgusting.  I’m not going to wear something to impress a group of hormone-addled idiots!”

“Just for yourself?” Pamela continued, apparently unconcerned about her daughter’s rising temper.  “All girls like to look pretty on occasion.”

Sam glowered, dropping the spoon into her bowl and huffing.  “Not me and you know it.”

“But you deserve it, dear.  You’re so kind and thoughtful – you deserve to pamper yourself every now and then.  That’s why I got the outfit for you.”

“What’s the quickest way out of this conversation?” Sam muttered to herself, rolling her eyes up to stare at the ceiling.  Her mother seemed to think that wearing things that were ‘pretty’ or ‘in style’ would make Sam happy. Doesn’t she understand me at all? Sam screamed in her own mind.  Helping people, saving things, fixing the planet – those things made Sam happy.  Real things, not fake things like looks and popularity contests.

Perhaps if this would have been the first time this conversation had happened, Sam would have simply blown it off and went to school.  If this had been the tenth time, she would have probably just complained and stormed off.  But this was something the fiftieth time this conversation had played out and it was driving Sam off the deep end.  “I don’t want to look pretty,” she seethed.

“Yes you do,” Pamela replied quietly.

“No.  No, I don’t.”  Sam grabbed her bowl of oatmeal and stood up, heading for her room with the intent to finish her breakfast in a semblance of peace.

“A skirt, makeup, and heels, dear.  Please try it on.”

Sam growled softly as she stormed out of the kitchen and up to her room, belatedly noticing the bag sitting on the floor by her closet.  Her mother must have dropped it off yesterday while she and Tucker were out talking.  Dropping onto her bed and setting her warm bowl of oatmeal in her lap, Sam muttered darkly to herself for a few minutes as she ate the remainder of her breakfast.

There were certainly times when she hated her mother.  The woman seemed to want nothing more than to stick her fingers into every aspect of Sam’s life.  She complained about Sam’s friends, about Sam’s wardrobe, about where Sam went after school…  The stream of nagging was nearly unending.  

Sam’s eyes drifted to her closet, staring at the half-open doors in a sort of contemplation.  Her mind was busily running through ways to get her mother off of her back – at least for a while.  Was she, or was she not, a teenager?  Couldn’t she make her own decisions on what was appropriate for her to wear?  

A plan sparkled in Sam’s mind and she set her empty breakfast bowl on her desk, getting up and walking over to the closet.  “I wonder…” she whispered, grabbing a shirt and holding it up to her in the mirror, a wicked grin on her face.  “A skirt, makeup, and heels.  I can do that.”

As she changed, she never once looked in the bag sitting unopened by her closet.  If she would have, Sam might have changed her mind about what she was about to do.  Inside the bag sat a simple plaid skirt, a form-fitting black top with a stylish purple design, and a matching purple clip for her hair.  All of it made from eco-friendly, natural products.

Instead, Sam stuffed the clothes she had taken off into her backpack to change into later, wedged her feet into a hair of heels she hadn’t worn in over a year, and walked out the backdoor of her house towards school.  The grin never faded – especially not after seeing the look of horror that crossed her mother’s face.

--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--

I’m just out of things to say, I think.  I wrote this so long ago I don’t know what else to mention.  ^^;

Danny sighed, leaning against the counter and staring at the kitchen table with a frustrated sigh.  He hadn’t actually fallen back to sleep after his nightmare – his mother had drifted off while watching one of the movies – and Danny was tired and grumpy.  And so far his morning wasn’t turning out any better than his night had been.

After surviving the terrifying nightmare about hunting his best friend as a ghost and that nauseating conversation with his mother about exactly what kind of monster he really was… he’d been trapped in that strange ‘dead mode’ for the past two hours.  Everything was blurry and distant, his family’s emotions tingeing the air with vague, tantalizing aromas.  He was jumpy, frustrated at being unable to snap out of it, and worried that he’d drop even farther into his ghost side and start attacking his family.

Fortunately he was finding himself in total control this morning.  He hadn’t had even the faintest desire to kill any of his family members – which was more of a relief than he was willing to admit – and he wasn’t becoming any more ghostish as the morning went on.  He was, however, starting to grow a little concerned over whether or not he’d be back to normal before school started.

Sorry for the ‘ew’ factor coming up…  I couldn’t resist, though.

Jazz was sitting at the table reading and spooning cereal distractedly into her mouth.  Danny glanced at her blurry form, then focused on the reason he wasn’t eating breakfast with his sister.  Seated on the table, its drool dripping onto a plate of toast Danny had made earlier, was the ghost puppy from his backyard.

It tipped its head to the side, studying him, then it brought one of its hind legs up to scratch at its moldy ears.  Small bits of decaying ghost flesh splattered through the air and a few maggots dropped onto the plate.  Danny’s nose wrinkled and he pressed his back as firmly as possible against the countertop.  “Ew…”

A sound filtered into his ears that Danny recognized was his sister talking.  He tore his eyes off the sight of the dead dog drooling on his kitchen table and listened carefully on her.  “What?” he asked.

“You going to eat anything?” she said distantly, her voice wavering in and out of focus.  

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Danny answered, his eyes drifting back to the ghostly maggots that were crawling around the table top.  “You can have it.”

--

Beware the invasion…

As Danny grabbed his backpack and headed to school, the ghost portal in the basement swirled calmly, its emerald mists glowing faintly and steadily.  The tiny rents in the barrier that kept the ghosts from pouring through the portal were barely visible against the supernatural glow.  There wasn’t a single person in the human world that even knew the holes were there.

One nameless ghost appeared on the other side of the barrier, studying it carefully before threading its fingers through the small breaks it discovered and wriggling its fingers back and forth.  Lacking a human soul, the ghost couldn’t cut through the barrier with the ease Danny had.  It worried away at the small holes for nearly an hour before it gave a sharp cry of success.

The small holes in the barrier had grown larger.

In real life, nightmares come true.