Categories > Cartoons > Danny Phantom > The Wielder


by slickboy444 0 reviews

Category: Danny Phantom - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover - Published: 2008-05-30 - Updated: 2008-05-30 - 5333 words - Complete

The Wielder
Chapter 2: Experiments


Amity Park Mall – Late Afternoon

“Little whelp! Hold still so I can shoot you!” shouted Skulker as he hovered over the food court.

“Ugh! Does anybody actually fall for that?” groaned Danny.

“You’d be surprised, Ghost Boy.”

It was official. The afternoon was a total bust. After they got back from the field trip, Danny and his friends decided to hang out at the mall and maybe get some food at the Nasty Burger later. It was supposed to be a nice, normal Friday afternoon for a not-so-normal life. But Skulker just had to show up and test out his latest weapon system.

It turned out to be pretty destructive. It was a shoulder-mounted net launcher with a twist. The nets it fired had concentrated ecto-energy that sent painful shocks to whoever it captured, especially other ghosts. And when it didn’t hit anybody, it had the added side effect of blowing up. They found this out the hard way when he showed up while they were eating ice cream and talking about the trip. It was enough to cause everybody in the area to flee. Before long, Skulker destroyed a fountain and destroyed a couple of stores and he wasn’t showing any signs of letting up.

“Danny, incoming at twelve-a-clock!” yelled Tucker.

“Oh man…”

Another ecto-charged net was coming straight for him. He quickly went intangible and slipped into the floor just as it impacted a display of electronics outside a tech store. Upon impact, the explosion took out much of the area.

“Noooooooooo!” exclaimed Tucker, “You monster! Don’t you have any respect for high end gadgets?!”

Skulker just looked at him oddly and turned his new weapon on him. If there was one thing he hated more than pestilent prey, it was annoying humans. Tucker, seemed to get the message.

“I respect only the hunt,” said the skilled ghost hunter.

“Me and my big mouth,” groaned Tucker.

Tucker started running, but he was already in Skulker’s sights. Grinning to himself, he fired another ecto-net. It was right on target and should easily silence his annoying comments. But just before it hit, Sam jumped in and shoved Tucker off to the side. The net only impacted a garbage can, but the explosion was close enough to send them flying into a pile of chairs and tables.

“Ugh!” groaned Sam, struggling to pick herself up, “You and your big mouth!”

“Thanks for the reminder,” said Tucker, who was equally demoralized.

Skulker was disappointed with the result, but that was nothing another blast couldn’t fix. He was sure that if he kept blasting at these two, his prey would show up and come to their aid. It was just like holding out bait. No target could resist when it was attacked at its most vulnerable point.

“Allow me to silence it…permanently,” grinned Skulker, preparing for another shot.

“Anytime Danny!” exclaimed Tucker.

Right on cue, Danny shot up from the ground and flew up towards Skulker at full speed. He could handle being the target, but not his friends.

“Hey Skulker! Leave them out of this! It’s me you want!” shouted Danny.

“About time you showed up again,” said Skulker, turning his sights back on his prey, “Let’s end this!”

He fired another round of ecto-nets. This time Danny was able to dodge them and get in position to return fire. He attacked with some ecto-blasts of his own, but Skulker was able to avoid them. He maintained the high ground like a good hunter should, keeping him on the run as he tried to lead his sights away from his friends so they could get away. But he couldn’t run forever. He had to stop Skulker before he blew up every store in the mall. Then nobody would have anywhere to unwind on a Friday afternoon.

“Ha! Hope that thing came with a warranty!” taunted Danny, “Doesn’t look like you got your money’s worth!”

“It’ll be worth every red cent once I have your pelt on my wall!”

He fired another ecto-net. Danny dodged this one too, only this one didn’t explode on impact. Instead, it got caught on a plant near another fountain. Seeing his opportunity, Danny acted on an impulse and sprang into action. He leaped out from behind the plant, grabbed the net just as it was ready to explode, and threw it up at Skulker. The bewildered hunter didn’t have time to react. Before he could go intangible, the net surrounded his armor.

“What?! On no!” he exclaimed.

As expected, the ecto-net exploded. Skulkers armor didn’t stand a chance. His imposing form blew apart into a burst of twisted metal. His high-tech ghost hunting gear was reduced to scrap, leaving only the head with the tiny ghost that was Skulker’s true form inside.

“Ooh,” grimaced Danny, “Now I bet he REALLY wish he kept the receipt.”

He walked over to the pile of debris and pulled out the head. The little ghost was still kicking and screaming, trying to fight his target even though he was practically powerless.

“You little pest! I swear I’ll have your head! You hear me? I’ll have your…”

But his threats were abruptly silenced as the energy from the Fenton Thermos sucked him in, sealing him away for his inevitable return to the ghost zone. Sam was the one who stepped in, retrieving her thermos from her backpack shortly after picking herself up from the last blast. She was still pretty sore, clutching the arm she had been holding the thermos in. Being caught in the middle of an ecto-blast and being flung into a pile of chairs and tables wasn’t as fun as it sounded.

“Thanks Sam,” said Danny as he powered down, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she groaned, “Nothing some band-aids and aspirin won’t cure.”

He helped her stay upright, allowing her to lean on him. It seemed worse than she let on, but Sam was a tough girl. She never let her pain show. It still bothered Danny to no end. He hated it whenever his friends got hurt in the middle of a fight. Even though they helped him by choice and knew the risks, it always wore heavy on his conscious whenever they came away with bruises.

“Sorry I wasn’t quicker back there,” he said in a low tone.

“Don’t be. It’s not our fault we don’t have super powers,” said Sam, managing a smile.

“If I could share mine, believe me I would. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Danny…really.”

“Then why are you still leaning on me?”

Sam didn’t have a response for that. Her only reaction was to blush in embarrassment and abruptly pull away. Danny blushed too. It was yet another incident where they got caught up in moment together. Emotions started flaring up and feelings came with them. It had been happening with more frequency lately. A lot of people were quick to point it out, never hesitating to call them love-birds or something. They always denied it, but lately that was becoming increasingly difficult.

“Uh hello? You two done?” said Tucker, who was also a bit nicked up, but not as much as Sam.

“What? Done? We weren’t…you know,” stammered Danny.

“Whatever dude,” said Tucker, rolling his eyes, “Let’s just get out of here before they make us clean all this mess up.”

Taking his advice, the three friends gathered up their stuff and made their leave. It felt as though they should be used to these surprise attacks by now, but there was no getting used to the property damage aspect. With every fight, Danny’s enemies upped the firepower. Even with all his ghost powers, it felt like he was falling behind. Either they would have to wait for his parents to develop better weapons or find new ways of keeping his enemies at bay.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker thought it was over for now. The authorities had already arrived and were taking care of things like they always did. Nobody seemed suspicious of them. However, their little escapade had not gone unnoticed.

Ian Nottingham needed a moment to digest what he just saw. He had seen some pretty amazing things in his days, but this ranked right up there. He knew Amity Park had a reputation for ghost attacks, but he never thought he’d see one this close. It was quite a scene and it revealed some intriguing information about his target and her friends.

“So the girl is friends with the ghost boy…and may be a little more,” mused Ian, “She might just be an appropriate wielder after all.”

Sticking to the shadows, Ian continued his observation. This girl was more interesting than he expected. He would be sure to relay this information to his master, but one thing was for certain. If this Danny Phantom got involved in their affairs, he could be a problem.

City Hall – Basement

Evening turned to night as Kenneth Irons waited impatiently for Vlad to finish his initial round of tests. Once he got word from Ian that the Witchblade had reacted to somebody, he immediately sent one of his body guards to retrieve it. In less than a half-hour, it was in his hands and awaiting study. Vlad didn’t even take time to calibrate his machines before he got started. Kenneth was an impatient man and if he wanted to use all those ancient goodies he had collected over the years he had to deliver. And besides, he couldn’t help but be a little curious about this Witchblade as well.

He started with a simple scan. One of the devices he had shipped from his mansion back in Wisconsin was an ecto-analyzer. It was similar to the device he used to scan Danny when he tried to clone him, only this one had to be calibrated to scan for more than just ecto-energy. If this Witchblade had the kind of power Irons said it had, then it was sure to show up differently.

As the machine did its thing, scanning over the gauntlet with a green laser, Kenneth watched in anticipation. Master’s machines were unlike anything he had ever seen before. He knew next to nothing about ghost hardware, but as long as it delivered he could care less.

“So what’s the verdict, Masters? This contraption of yours pick up anything?” asked Irons.

A stream of data showed up on the computer screen and Vlad looked over it.

“Hmm…interesting,” he said, “Most of the scan revealed nothing more than a lifeless hunk of metal and rock, but there is some strange energy residue. And if I’m reading this right (and I know I am) it’s recent.”

“Then Ian was right. That girl must have activated its power,” said Kenneth with renewed interest, “Can you use the residue to activate it again?”

“That’s what this next test is for. If there is energy within this relic as you say there is, a little ecto-infusion should bring it to life,” said Vlad confidently.

“Good, but not too much,” warned Kenneth, “The Witchblade is an unstable power. There’s no telling what it might do.”

“Oh relax, old friend. I’ve taken every precaution.”

Vlad seemed pretty sure of himself. Kenneth still didn’t whole-heartedly trust all this ghost equipment and he trusted Vlad even less. But he had no choice. With a potential wielder identified, he had to claim the power soon or it would be lost to a less deserving soul. He spent a lifetime trying to unlock the power of this relic and he wasn’t about to lose it to some punk teenage girl.

Vlad took the gauntlet and placed it on a table set up in the center of the room. Irons stepped back as Vlad positioned it under what he called the ecto-fuser. This device was originally designed to infuse ecto-energy into a host in order to augment ghost attributes. He thought he could use it to enhance his powers, but he never could quite work the kinks out. But thanks to the resources Irons generously donated, he was able to develop it into a new kind of device. Only instead of fusing extra ecto-energy into a ghost, this device would fuse it into an inanimate object to release any supernatural energy that resided within it. At least that’s what it was supposed to do in theory.

It was an imposing device. The main apparatus was shaped like an antenna with an end that looked like an oversized ray gun. The bulk of the components were run on a series of computer panels that ran on cells of ecto-energy. The amount of data it had to process was staggering as well. Infusing ecto-energy was a daunting task and required so much power the lights flickered, making Irons all the more weary of this experiment.

“I’d put some goggles on if I were you,” warned Vlad, “We’re in for quite a treat.”

“We’ll see,” said Kenneth.

The two men put on protective eyewear as the machine powered up. Kenneth watched intently while Vlad calibrated the power settings. The tip of the device was already glowing, gathering energy in preparation for the infusion process. Vlad made sure the settings were low. If this thing had the kind of power Kenneth said it did, it was probably better to underpower it than overpower it.

“Here we go,” announced Vlad, “The infusion process will commence in 3…2…1.”

A powerful burst filled the room as a brilliant flash of greenish/blue light shot forth from the main apparatus. It was so bright even the goggles weren’t enough to block out the glare. The two men were forced to look away as the energy surged through the Witchblade. There was no telling what this process would do to it. To Kenneth, it seemed pretty intense for what was supposed to be a low power setting. But there was no turning back now. All either of them could do was wait and see if this ancient power would be unlocked.

After about ten seconds of ecto-fusing, the brilliant light show ceased and the main apparatus powered down. The constant humming sound of the machine remained, but the process was done. Upon removing their goggles, Kenneth Irons and Vlad Masters eagerly awaited the results. But for all the high tech equipment, nothing seemed to come of it. While the table was visibly damaged from the process, the Witchblade remained intact and unchanged.

“That it?” scoffed Irons, “All these amazing machines and all you can do with them is put on some third rate light show?”

“Give it a moment,” grumbled Vlad, holding his tongue from his coarse tone, “The ecto-energy needs time to work.”

“How are we supposed to know?” said Irons as he walked up to the table, “For all I know you just…”

But Irons was abruptly cut off when the Witchblade began to shake. Both he and Vlad froze as the watched the ancient relic, uncertain of what this meant. They watched as the jewel on the top of the wrist came to life. It glowed with the distinct greenish hue of ecto-energy, indicating to Vlad that the procedure had worked.

“You were saying?” grinned Vlad snidely.

“I stand corrected,” said Kenneth, a sinister grin forming on his face.

Irons approached the table, anxious to see what this relic could do now that its power had been activated. He was no expert on ecto-energy, but if it allowed him to tap into this power he spent a lifetime searching for he could care less.

“You can thank me later,” said Vlad in a triumphant poise, “Just leave the keys to your collection on your way out.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Masters,” said Kenneth as he reached for the Witchblade, “We still have to…”

Suddenly, the gauntlet came to life and two tentacle-like appendages shot out from the fingertips and grabbed Iron’s by the arm.

“What the-augh!”

But before he could process what was going on, he was effortlessly lifted off the floor and flung across the room. He slammed right up against the sensitive computer array, knocking over the console and breaking several screens.

“My machines!” exclaimed Vlad.

The sound of expensive equipment crumbling under the weight of the eccentric billionaire was the last thing he wanted to hear. And the Witchblade wasn’t done yet. The glowing on the wrist intensified as more tendrils shot out from the gauntlet, whipping wildly around the room and destroying anything it touched. Glass, computers, and various debris were shattered or dented. Vlad was forced to shift into his Plasmius form and create an ecto-shield from the debris.

“You meddlesome excuse for a lawn ornament! You’ll pay for that!” he exclaimed.

“Vlad wait!” exclaimed Kenneth.

But of course, Vlad didn’t listen. He fired a concentrated ghost ray at the raging relic, only to have it deflected by a ruby-colored shield it formed in a half-second flat. The ray in turn destroyed more equipment, further infuriating Plasmius. He could take being outsmarted by Danny Phantom and even his idiot father, but he could NOT take disrespect from some ancient artifact.

“You little…” he began.

Then the gauntlet leapt up from the table and grasped Vlad by the face. The half-ghost stumbled backwards, tumbling over a table that had yet more expensive hardware that was now destined for the scrap heap.

“Ack! Get it off! Get this…this thing off!” he exclaimed.

Kenneth grunted as he picked himself up from the mess. Vlad’s machines were officially wrecked, but he didn’t give a damn about them. He had worked too hard for the Witchblade to slip away now.

“Grab it! Don’t let it get away!” exclaimed Kenneth.


The Witchblade had a powerful grip. Vlad could actually feel it tugging on his face. It was as if this thing had a mind of its own. He got the feeling it actually knew what he just tried to do to it and this was its way of expressing disapproval.

The jewel on the wrist shifted from green to yellow. And while it maintained a firm grip on Vlad’s face, it sent a paralyzing surge of energy through him that even his ghost form couldn’t resist.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” he yelled as he fell to the ground, de-powering in the process.

As Vlad collapsed to the floor, the Witchblade let go and landed on its fingers. Using them as mini-legs, the ancient relic recalled the tendrils it had shot out and started scurrying away from what it felt were unpleasant surroundings.

“Oh no you don’t!” yelled Irons as he attempted to block its path.

But the Witchblade wouldn’t have it. The jewel atop the wrist glowed again and shot a beam of energy that hit Irons point blank, sending him flying back against the wall. A normal man would have been knocked out instantly or even killed, but thanks to his enhanced features he was only down for the count. But it was more than enough time for the Witchblade to run down the hall, blow a hole through a reinforced door, and climb up the stairs.

“Ungh,” groaned Irons, his head throbbing after a blow like that, “That piece of…”

Grunting hard, he picked himself up off the floor and ran after it. He ignored Vlad, who was out cold and lying face down on the floor. He couldn’t let his prized relic get away. He had worked too hard for too long to let it slip through his fingers now. There was no way he was going to spend another lifetime searching for it again.

Following the path of destruction that the Witchblade left in its wake, he reached the ground floor of City Hall. It was dark and nobody was around since Vlad let everybody leave early so they could do their experiments in secret. He looked around the main lobby and the adjacent offices. At first he didn’t see anything. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw something in the office to his right.

He limped over to the area and found claw marks in the carpet, a clear sign that the Witchblade had been here. Then he looked up and saw that a window had been blow out, most likely shattered by another energy blast. It was confirmation of what he hoped he wouldn’t find. The Witchblade, it seemed, was smarter than he thought. It not only fought them off, it escaped. Now it was out there somewhere in Amity Park, alive and no doubt searching for its wielder.

“The power…,” he said in breathless pant, “You will not escape me, Witchblade! I swear I’ll find you! Wherever you are I’ll find you!”

Sam’s House

Sam arrived back home just after sunset. Her parents were busy watching that lame show, Extreme Nanny Makeover. Why they watched trash like that she would never know. She said hi anyways and they said hi back, asking the usual questions and getting the usual answers. Naturally, she left out the incident at the mall, saying she just hung out with friends. They seemed to buy it or were too caught up in their TV show to care. She groaned as she dragged herself upstairs, passing her grandmother along the way.

“How was your afternoon, Sammy-girl?” she asked in her aged voice.

“Oh the usual…boring but exhausting.”

“Ha, exhausting?” the old lady scoffed, “In my day we raced trains for fun! That’ll get you real sore. Oh the stories I could tell you.”

“Maybe later, Grandma. I’m not in a story-telling mood,” said Sam, “Right now I’m all for a hot bath and a couple days of uninterrupted sleep.”

Sam barely made it to her room. She didn’t even have the strength to kick her boots off as she collapsed on her bed and let out a deep sigh. With all the ghost battles she got caught up in, she thought she would have been used to this sort of thing by now. But every fight brought a new challenge and a new definition of exhaustion. She was usually pretty good about keeping herself from getting too caught up in the action, but every now and then she needed a reminder that she wasn’t the one with the super powers. And soreness like this was a pretty good way to refresh her memory.

As she laid on her bed, staring off into space Sam’s mind wandered. Her thoughts drifted towards the moment she had with Danny back in the mall. Her usual inclination was to write it off as just another one of those times they got caught up in the heat of battle, but they had been happening so frequently lately she wasn’t so sure anymore. First there was Ember, then there was the Desiree debacle, then there was their infamous fake-out-make-out, and of course there was the Nocturne incident where they actually dreamed they were boyfriend and girlfriend. It was getting harder to deny that something wasn’t there. She just wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Danny had always been special to her. They grew up together and had always been the best of friends. But things changed as they grew older and they changed in ways she didn’t expect. She really felt something for Danny and it wasn’t just friendly affection. She was beginning to contemplate the real possibility that she might be falling in love with him. But that was too much to process at this point. They had enough going on with fighting ghosts and saving the world.

“I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about this stuff. So what if you think of Danny more than a friend? Why should we risk what we have now for something we don’t even know will work? It’s simpler this way…I guess.”

Her head was still pounding and her arm was still sore. A nasty bruise had already formed and would probably need to be bandaged up for a while. Letting out another sigh, she dragged herself out of bed and retreated to her bathroom where she drew a hot bath. She also lit some of her many incense candles that she recently bought from her favorite goth supplies shop. Hopefully this would help her relax and null some of the soreness.


Shortly after breaking out of City Hall, the Witchblade crawled along the streets on its fingers at a rapid pace. The ecto-energy that had been fused within was only temporary and the primitive consciousness within had only a narrow window to act. Its purpose was simple. It had to find its rightful wielder. Two unfit souls attempted to usurp its power. It could not allow such transgressions since it would disrupt the balance it was created to protect. It would only be safe in the hands of its rightful wielder and it already had identified a fitting soul.

The image of the girl known as Samantha Manson was imprinted on its consciousness. It sensed in her a fitting vessel. Her soul was not corrupted, but not overly pure either. She had the instinct of a fighter who was willing to put her well-being on the line for what she believed in. That along with a host of other reasons it was too basic to understand sealed its fate and hers.

After crawling along the sidewalk for a while, the Witchblade sprouted two tendrils and latched onto a truck that happened to pass by. It rode on the back, following the imprint of its wielder through the streets of Amity Park. It leapt from vehicle to vehicle, navigating its way through the traffic until it reached the vicinity of its wielder. Getting off at the right place was a bit tricky. The truck had been moving fast and when it tried to leap off it landed in a garbage can. But the ancient relic would not be dissuaded. Upon pulling itself out, it scurried into the alley before casual onlookers could see it.

The wielder was close now. The Witchblade could feel it. She resided somewhere within these walls. Nothing would keep it from her now. The fingers on the gauntlet sharpened and it latched onto the brick wall. From there it started climbing up to the top floor where Sam’s room was. The ecto-energy was fading fast. The ancient weapon had to move swiftly or risk becoming inanimate before it was in the proper hands.

Sam’s Room

After spending a half-hour soaking in her bath tub, Sam came out of her bathroom a bit less sore, but still very tired. Upon drying her hair, she put on her sleeping clothes, which consisted of an undersized T-shirt and some cotton sleeping pants. She also put a few bandages on her arm and leg. She would probably have to avoid sleeping on her side tonight if she was to feel any better in the morning. Thankfully, tomorrow was Saturday and barring any further ghost attacks she should have time to heal.

“What a day…” she groaned as she collapsed onto her bed, “Raging ghost hunters, weird museum displays, and a new round of bruises…all I need now is an alien invasion and I’ll have a full-blown breakdown.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Sam slipped under her sheets and closed her eyes. It had been a long day and she was ready for a good night sleep. Hopefully tomorrow would give her time to recover, but when it came to fighting ghosts rest was a luxury and there was no telling what could happen next.

As Sam quickly dozed off, the Witchblade had reached her window. It clawed its way up and now that it had her in its sights it yearned to bond with her. At first it tried tapping on the glass, but Sam didn’t respond. She was too out of it to notice. But the Witchblade easily got around this barrier by forming two tendrils that effortlessly opened the window, allowing it to crawl in.

The sudden breeze of cool air caused Sam to shift in her bed. She was still oblivious to the approaching intruder, which now had her square in its sights. The power of the Witchblade yearned to be free, but it could only do so if it was attached to a wielder. The ecto-energy that allowed it to move was almost out. Its movements slowed as it struggled to get closer. It slowly clawed into the sheets, inching its way up. But just as it was about to climb on top of the bed with her, it ran out of ecto-energy and fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed over. It had been so close, but not close enough. Sam didn’t hear a thing and remained. She was lying on her side, facing away from the edge Witchblade had gone motionless. She was already half asleep, but then another gust of wind blew through her room from the open window. This was enough to get her to stir and she shifted, rolling onto her stomach and draping her arm over the side of the bed so it was mere inches away from the ancient relic.

Upon sensing the hand of its wielder so close, the Witchblade sprang into action. It didn’t need ecto-energy now. The age old power that resided within took over and three dark tendrils shot out from the gauntlet and slithered up Sam’s arm.

“Hnn…what? Huh?” groaned Sam, a strange sensation stirring her from her rest.

She opened her tired eyes and attempted to sit up. Then to her astonishment, she saw the mysterious gauntlet binding itself to her arm. And from there, something black and metallic snaked up her limbs and started consuming her entire body in a strange metallic armor.

“AHH! What is this?! Get off! Get the hell off me!” she exclaimed.

What happened next was like a nightmare. Time slowed and her vision became blurry. She attempted to fight off whatever was attacking her, but it was no use. It was as if something alive was bonding with her, searing itself onto her flesh. It was painful at first, but it quickly gave way to this overwhelming feeling of a new presence entering her mind. It was ancient. It was powerful. It was the Witchblade and it had finally found its new wielder.



Ian Nottingham was half-asleep sitting on the rooftop of a house across from the Manson residents. He followed the girl here, which he assumed was her home and kept watch over her from afar with binoculars to make sure nothing was amiss. When he saw her go to sleep he took that as an opportunity to get some rest himself since there was little more he could do when she was asleep. But just when he was getting comfortable, he heard her scream and shot up to see what was going on.

“What the…” he said as he quickly grabbed his binoculars.

He looked towards the window that led inside Sam’s room. He noticed that the window had been opened, something he didn’t recall seeing during his previous observations. There was also some mysterious flashing going on inside. He wasn’t sure what exactly they were, but he had a pretty good idea and it led him to one logical conclusion.

“This is definitely going to complicate things.”


Up next: Sam awakens with a new power and many questions.
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