Cinnamon Roll Oneshots

8~Cuts

Danny's POV.

A cold breeze hit my, decidedly human, back. Cold didn't affect me in either form anymore, so it was more of a reminder of how exposed I was. Kneeling on the ground was hard and unforgiving, but also sticky? Opening my eyes wasn't as hard as I expected it to be, but the bruises on my face ached in protest.

The sky was covered with dark clouds cutting out any thought of light from the moon or the stars. The only source of light were the bits of glowing ectoplasm mixed with a dark red substance, oh, my blood. It pooled around me and flowed from the deep gash in my stomach. Struggling to sit upright, I spit out some of the metallic tasting blood from my mouth, and look down. Even with the blood covering it, I knew it was deep.

Skulker had swiped me with his new hunting knife, apparently it can hit ghosts that have gone intangible. I found out the hard way, plus I'm pretty sure it was a 'gift' from Vlad. As I watched with half lidded eyes it started healing itself, one good power though it would still need stitches. It'll be gone in a few days, fading into the dozens of scars and burns covering my torso. But at the moment I was still losing to much blood, black started to blur across my vision.

Well this is ghost hunting. The world went dark.

Mickey's POV.

Five minutes after first period had started, Danny Fenton entered the room. Him being late was a normal occurrence so no one payed him any mind as he limped to today, but today I did. There was a large bruise over his right eye, fresh cuts littering his face and arms. A new drop of blood fell from his leg and I had to restrain myself from openly wincing. I am well aware of what arise from bullying, I've experienced many myself, but that's not it.

Dash and his buddies never went this far to anyone, even Danny. The only blood they'd ever drawn would come from bloody noses. Plus, according to the sources of fellow students, Dash had only shoved two fellow nerds into lockers before he went to class. In other words he must have been in a good mood. A large stain of blood suddenly started soaking through his shirt near his stomach, he flinched, so did I.

That should definitely receive medical attention, all I could make out from the blood was how big the wound was but it was definitely deep. Fifteen minutes later blood was still dripping through his shirt, Danny finally raised his hand and went to the bathroom, noticeably limping as he did. How no one else, like I don't know the teachers, noticed these things is really concerning. I waited a minute before following him, since I've never left class before our teacher let me leave class without needing persuasion.

Keeping a quick pace and my feet light, I turned the corner to the nearest bathroom. Peaking around the wall I saw the one Danny Fenton in front of the mirror mumbling about stupid boxy, and bad stitches. He lifted his shirt up after a brief scan of the room and I had to restrain myself from gasping. A large cut sliced across his abdomen bloody and fairly deep, though it looked like it had healed slightly from its original size. It was ragged but straight almost as if a blade had cut through it, but it was also tinged green? With a speedy slide of hand I pulled out my flip phone and took a picture, luckily no loud click ensued because I was already prepared for a stealth mission.

Holding my breath I watched as he pulled out a needle and bandages from his bag, settling himself onto the ground near the drain. Before he could start that inevitable action multiple other teenage voices started talking loudly in the hallway, Danny's gaze snapped up and I pressed myself back against the wall. When I gained the confidence to look back around the corner he was gone.

Though I was concerned, at this point I knew he could take care of himself. So after school, deep in my own room I added the picture to the file of Daniel Fenton, circling one conclusive idea. Ghost Hunting.

Okay, maybe I should meet with Weston.

3rd Person POV.

Deep in someone's basement an evil cackle bounced off the walls. I mean it wasn't a good evil cackle, more like one of those ones some teenager tries to do but fails miserably. A scrawny figure clipped a picture onto a cork board with practiced ease and wound a red string connecting to it. The picture like many of the others contained one Danny Fenton, but almost all of which somehow found its way connected to a photo Danny Phantom. Set observer stepped back from the board admiring their months of work and research.

"Times running out Fenton," they picked up two photos. One of Danny Fenton one of the town hero, side by side any idiot could tell their faces were identical, as well as their body shape, and hair style. "Soon I'll convince them, I'll stop you ghost."

The figure smiled manically to the board, the figure was Wes Weston.

Dun dun dun 

Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, it's been a busy month and I kinda couldn't think of any ideas. Thank for being patient.