From Scratch

Chapter 3: When Plans Flop

"Now, kid, you are in deep shit."

Danny couldn't have imagined his situation getting any worse, but it somehow did deteriorate at a rapid pace. Now the King of Ghosts, Lord of the Undead, was sitting in an interrogation room. He hadn't even known the locals had those. Even if it was largely a glorified cell with an added courtesy of a table. It didn't matter at all, because they also didn't have any toilets. And he sure as hell was not approaching that rancid bucket. The place smelled, his bed was a couple of planks hanging by two flimsy chains, and the only food he had got since yesterday was a mouldy piece of bread and a glass of water. The guards told him to blame financial situation in the country, but Phantom did not buy it. And of course he wasn't going to kill off his human half in a miserable way of indigestion. All in all, he was in a one nasty predicament with no easy way out, because just bursting through that wall near him was only going to make matters worse. Danny mentally cursed his luck and local judicial officials who had chosen to be particularly picky this one time.

"Is it because of the smell?" Phantom tilted his head, "I assure you, that's not me."

"Don't play cocky with me, brat," the scruffy man in armour continued. And despite the obvious disdain in what he said, he was still composed. "You know better than anyone what you did."

He had a short beard that didn't go beyond his chin, and the hair done in a style Danny had long since dubbed 'an aircraft', due to how flat its top was. Everything about him screamed 'I'm a stereotypical war-hardened veteran', except maybe the fact that the aforementioned hair was of green colour. It might have been normal here, but Danny just couldn't resist the impression. He had introduced himself as Marcos Gildark. Apparently, the man was in charge of the Royal Guard.

"It was all self-defence," Danny raised his hands lightly.

"Self-defence," repeated Marcos.

"That's what I've been telling you from the start, didn't you hear?"

His jabs did not seem to faze the obviously important figure, "Then tell me, how is blowing up a city wall a 'self-defence?'"

Danny sighed, "Alright, I...might have gone a little bit overboard."

His hands glowed with poisonous green light, his hair flew all around from the mystical wind gathered round. The bitch would not run anymore from what was coming. The light around his hands became blinding, the thunderous sound they made was enough to wake up the dead. And then, finally, he released a blast of light and it burst forward, each meter the ray passed it created even more noises of minor explosions. It crashed everything on its path with little to no effort, leaving some houses without their upper halves, and once the beam hit the aforementioned walls, another explosion resonated across the city, as the stone structure was blown to bits. And once the beam subsided, only the scorched earth remained.

"Yeah..." Danny mumbled slowly, "An overkill."

"Overkill?" Marcos snapped the teen out of his flashback, "Do you realise the damage you have done?"

"It could have been worse," Danny shrugged, putting his head on his hand. "I mean, nobody but that murderous witch died, right?"

"No thanks to you. The point is, you have destroyed a part of a centuries old wall. An object of extreme importance. You have caused panic across the entire city with your little performance, so we, as the royal guards, had to calm people down and apprehend you. Not to mention that some people have lost roofs above their heads. And that doesn't even cut the rest."