Danny Phantom – Meaning – Part four

He wasn't sure how much time had passed. Hours? Minutes? Or just seconds? His veins burned like the anger in his heart but there was nothing he could do about it. He stared emptily at the ceiling, mulling over how powerless he was to save himself. Never before had he felt so helpless and weak. And that sound... that never ending sound. The beep-beep-beep of the damn heart-rate monitor.

The door opened and in walked the doctor from before, accompanied by two armed men. This time, his cigar was lit, making the whole room stink. He took some blood and checked his pulse, writing it all down on his little clipboard. He shone a torch into his eyes and used a stethoscope to check his heart beat, despite the electronic equipment right next to him. He stayed there for a moment, drumming out the rhythm with his fingers before scribbling more things down.

"You seem awfully calm for someone in your predicament." The man began, leaning over him and glaring into his eyes. Danny didn't return the stare, he didn't even flinch. He could smell the doctor's breath; a vile mixture of coffee and nicotine and something he daren't even begin to think about. "You think your rich foster father is coming to bail you out, right? Don't count on it. He's in on the whole thing. In fact, he's funding it." He waited for a hint of disbelief, hurt or even fear to pass over the half ghost's face. It never came.

"Tell me, how does that make you feel?" He spoke in a deep voice that practically oozed darkness. There was a long pause. Danny wasn't going to give the doctor the satisfaction of an answer, no matter how much the feeling of betrayal nagged at his mind.

"I asked you a question."

"Go to hell"

The man clicked his fingers and one of the guards stepped forward and revealed a gun. The man held it to Danny's shoulder. Bang.

Thick, red blood trickled from the edges of the chair. He gritted his teeth, refusing to scream out. The warm liquid of life was slowly seeping out of him and there was nothing he could do about it, but in his heart of hearts, he knew they wouldn't let him die because that would only be helpful to him. The pain was almost unbearable... almost.

"Go on, Phantom, I want to hear you howl in agony." Danny growled at him, but it only made him laugh arrogantly. "Keep an eye on his vitals. If there's any status change, contact me immediately." And with that, they left.

Danny lifted his head up, sending a wave of excruciating pain to shoot though his body. Just what he needed, a nice gaping bullet wound in his shoulder. Now escaping would be twice as difficult. What annoyed him even more was the fact that they just left him bleeding to death. He spent the next few hours slipping in and out of consciousness. In the little time he was awake, he tried to devise an escape plan. The most obvious was to wait until they unfastened the restraints – that is, if they ever did – and make a run for it.

"Amazing!" Danny forced his eyes to open and found himself inches away from the doctor, who was leaning over him to get a good look at his shoulder.

"Doctor Grey, huh?"

"How did you know that?"
"Written inside your collar, good old mum." He couldn't stop himself from grinning when a blush spread over the man's face. He cleared his throat and eyed Danny menacingly.

"As I was saying: your body... it's amazing." he continued, running his fingers over the injury making him hiss in pain.
"Thanks, I work out." Smug.

"Shut up before I gag you."
"Well if that's how you like to play..."
"I said shut up!" He took the cigar out of his mouth and pressed it onto the bullet wound, grinding and twisting it in. Danny could stand it no longer, he screamed out in pain, trashing around and struggling to escape from the brutal abuse, an act that was pointless in it's desperation. Even the two guards winced and had to turn their heads. He finally pulled the offending cigar out, discarding it and pulling a satisfied face at Danny. "Where was I? Ah yes, your body possesses amazing healing abilities. This wound is less than twelve hours old and it's almost completely healed..." He sneered and pulled out a walkie-talkie, turning his back and muttering something before turning around and rummaging through a cupboard. He took out another needle, this time filling it with a clear liquid.

A little sooner, another man walked in. He had messy brown hair and looked a little dishevelled. He wore a long white coat, much similar to Grey's but cleaner and unbuttoned, allowing it to flow freely behind him. Around his neck rested a stethoscope and a beaded brown necklace with a cross hanging from it.

"You called?" He said in a broad Scottish accent.

"Yeah, Doctor... what was it? Never mind, I don't really give a shit. Administer this drug, wait for it to take full effect and then have him transported to the dark room."

--

Vlad swirled the sparkling whiskey round and round the glass, staring into it and then at Skulker.

"Of course I can't just swan in unannounced and rescue him."

"Why not? It's not like I care about the whelp, I'm just curious as to what you think you are achieving by leaving him there."

"I'm not achieving anything. He is. You've seen him, he's a wreck. He needs to realise that he has a reason to live; saving him from the guys in white won't save his soul, so to speak. That and that darn pride of his." He sighed and downed the whole glass, hissing a little at it's strength, it's burn. "If I was to save him, he'd never forgive me. You've hunted him for long enough, you know as well as I do that there's one thing he hates more than me, that's being helpless, doomed, whatever you want to call it. They'll push him into a corner and he'll have nowhere else to run but straight through them."

"You have a lot of confidence in him, and you seem to have this all planned out."
"Clever, eh"
"No, it's completely stupid."
"Harsh."
"No, it really isn't. This plan of yours is crazy, mental, you are nuttier than a fruitcake and the kid was right calling you a fruit-loop because that pretty much sums you up in a nutshell."

"And I ask again, why do you seem to care so much?"
"Because it's not fair, damn it!" Skulker yelled, leaning forward and slamming both fists on the table angrily. "I wanted to kill that brat. I was his blood on my hands, I want to watch the light leave those sweet, innocent eyes of his as he perishes by my hands."

"I know you do. I doubt you ever will, but you'll probably get a shot at it."
"Why are you so confident in him? He's just a child. A weak, human child. Without his ghost powers, he's nothing."
"The same way you are nothing without your suit. He's strong, Skulker. Stronger than even he knows. He could take you down without even lifting a finger, he just doesn't know it yet. With a gentle push, he'll stand by my side as I look down upon my dominion."

"You, ruling the Ghost Zone? Oh please, I've heard this joke before."

--

Danny felt the needle penetrate his skin, but didn't react. The pain in his shoulder pretty much dulled it out. He began to feel drowsy, and suddenly a hard was held firmly against his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, just listen." The Scottish Doctor began. "They are going to perform terrible experiments on you, trust me, I've seen it before. Right now, I can't help you. You're just going to have to endure the torture until I find a way to get you out of here. Look mate, I'm sorry." And with that he landed a sharp blow to Danny's stomach. Old cracked ribs... ouch.

Moments later, he was hauled to his feet and dragged down a dimly-lit corridor. At the end of said corridor was a metal door with a small, silver plaque above the wall reading "2607". The door screeched as it opened and was soon after slammed shut, leaving nothing but darkness in it's wake. Well, that and Danny doing his blessed best not to choke on his own gurgled blood. The room was pitch black all around, he couldn't even see where his own hand was, never mind an escape route. He was suddenly aware of the temperature dropping rapidly. Suddenly, a spray of water came at him from all angles. There was nowhere to turn. It was freezing, literally, freezing.

He found himself curled in a corner, physically unable to move. Another long night, oh joy.