"Okay," Tucker finished tying a knot on top of a trap. "According to this Idiot's Guide to Ghosthunting, ghosts are attracted to talking. So-" He took out an ancient radio and set it in the middle. He was just leaning over to press the play when he stepped on part of the rope. Instantly, Tucker and the radio were wrapped up in the green net, hanging in the tree like some sort of giant possessed cocoon.
"Uh... help? Help!" Tucker struggled. "Help! Ugh... Where's Danny and Sam when you need 'em?" He slows. "Well, at least it's quiet!"
His knee banged against the radio, and instantly the air was filled with sounds of scratchy people talking, driving him slowly insane. "Oh, it couldn't get any worse, could it!" Tucker struggles again in the net, but it is still no use. "I never knew that weatherman could be so annoying!"
"Could it not?" A chilling voice sounded from the outside of the net. Tucker froze, his heart leaping to his throat as evil a cackle as any sounded from outside. "If I am not mistaken, you look a little stuck there. Shall I help you out?"
"Go away, ghost!" Tucker shouted, but it sounded muffled, scared. There was a flash of pink and he fell to the floor, staring up at a ghost who could only be described as a floating version of Dracula, his red and blue cape fluttering in the light breeze, his hands ominously glowing pink. Suddenly, he split himself in... three? Tucker gasped as the three ghostly doppelgangers cackled and raised both their hands, charging a pink ball of energy. He covered his face from the brightness.
Suddenly-
"Hey, get off that boy, you impressively handsome yet unimaginably evil ghost that has absolutely nothing to do with me!" Tucker looked up just in time to see the one ghost, now apparently merged back together, staring in almost mock horror at the direction of the voice.
The ghost put his hands on each side of his face, and his fanged mouth formed a perfect 'O', like that famous painting that always gave Tucker the shivers; The Scream, right? "Oh, butterbiscuits! It's Vlad Masters, the brilliant, similarly handsome yet completely human ghost hunter! Run for your afterlives!" He poofed in a cloud of pink, and trailed away into the woods.
A shadow of a face appeared in the moonlight, who walked forwards slowly. Tucker struggled to his feet, still shaking from what he very much believed was a near-death experience. "Hello?" He felt so dizzy, standing there. The world seemed to tip sideways, first slowly, then, all at once.
A hand, surprisingly cold, caught the young boy as he fell, and helped him back to his feet. "Oh, my poor dear boy. Are you alright?"
"Oh, yeah... thanks, um..."
"Vlad Masters. You may call me Mr. Masters, if you so wish. Also, you're welcome for saving your life." There was a definite dry tone to his voice; he was already tiring of trying to boost his popularity around here.
"Wait, Vlad... You're that billionaire dude from Wisconsin?" Tucker stared. "Sweet! I'm Tucker Foley! But, wait, what are you doing out here? Don't you have, um, rich people things you should be doing?"
In the darkness, Vlad's eyes seemed to flash red in annoyance; a fact Tucker would have noticed if he wasn't so preoccupied with freaking out. "I could ask the same of you! Were you trying to catch ghosts or something? Because I can assure you-"
"Yeah, I was trying to get that idiot Danny Phantom." Tucker growled.
"Do not-" Vlad stopped himself, then, after a second, a slow smile spread across his face. So, not everybody completely loved their ghostly hero. Even better, if...
"Vlad?"
"Ah, yes, boy. I was just wondering: do you happen to know a boy called Daniel Fenton?"
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Sibling Secrets
FanfictionWhat would happen if Jazz was the only one who knew about Danny's powers?
