The Rising King

Prologue

A.N. So...here we are. The story from which it all began. All of that is but a rewrite. It concerns not only fixing the grammatical mistakes (and there was a train wagon and cart stacked in the relatively small story). It is also about plot inconsistencies and, how to put it...the fruits of my amateur imagination and little experience. Yet I will try to leave as much as I can. It is healthy to go back once in a while and see the progress you've made. With my autumn blues it is just what I need. But enough of me, enjoy the story.

Danny's POV

When life gives you lemons you squeeze them to make a lemonade. We all heard this sentence before, changed many times as it may have been. What of my life? Well, I can say that the lemons were squeezed into my eyes by her. All I can say is that she could be a cruel mistress sometimes. Being born in a family of ghost hunters entailed many problems down the line, and it was probably the first time I was screwed over. Yes, the moment one Jack Fenton began tossing the sheets along with one Madeline, now Fenton as well. Guess I should not complain about this, I came to be at least, I am not the one who 'didn't ask to be born'. And my existence, a rocky one, finally came to the long-deserved balance, so I enjoy what I got back then.

When I look at my past and try to find redeeming qualities to my parents, I guess I should say that at first it was fun. A child who can be told everything and he would believe it — yep. That was me. Point a blinking red arrow at my metaphorical childhood photo. I was at first intrigued and fearful at the prospect of the entire world filled with scary undead creatures, unaware of a curious, yet cruel irony fate had in store for me. I was entertained by their interesting contraptions, unaware of what they were meant to do. So, a reader might ask a question: who is that pretentious teen which wishes to drop his story on us? Well, not much of a teen now, but back in the time of the primary change in my life that's what I was.

Back then I would say: "My name is Danny Fenton, son of Jack and Maddie Fenton. Pleasure to meet you", trying to be as polite as possible, as I was taught by weeks without any sweets that being anything but led to. Only in a retrospect did I realise that I had been wrong  in one thing. Furthermore, how blind I was, no amount  of guide dogs could help this naive hero realise what always had been under his nose, before he was punched right into it. But now, with my vision clear and eyes wide open, I see just what they are. They never were my parents to begin with. They were merely hosts in the house I used to live in.

Dramatic, I know. And, well, at least I can redeem myself in the eyes of listeners by knowing that the stories spread around are mostly true. And I won't need to confirm it. So, teary details may be left aside, I believe.

So, there was that one accident in Fentons' lab. It sounds like a completely unoriginal superhero story, save for the actual means of gaining the power. Weak and neglected nobody gets power to help others. Well, at the beginning I thought so. I became Danny Phantom, half ghost superhero, as most people around know. Stupid name when I think of it, but, hey, I was not original back then. Must have come from my father, but I digress. Of course, not all people shared this sentiment. Most of the citizens of Amity Park thought about me as menace, thanks to some of my enemies. The biggest haters of my alter ego were, surprise, Fenton seniors, of course. It is ironic and mildly amusing how much more time they spent with my ghost half than my human part. To 'rip apart ghost boy molecule by molecule' how Jack bluntly put it.

I never took them seriously. I always hoped that when they will find out, they will accept me for what I am. And for that naivety did I pay a hefty price. It doesn't hurt as much now, but I still have a reminder on my chest. But at that moment it did hurt. When I told them my most cherished secret, they laughed, saying that such thing as halfas dont exist. Then I didn't wait long before proving how wrong they were. They began to shoot at me, demanding to know where their 'baby boy' is. My pleads fell on the deaf ears. If only they shut their mouths and took the time to listen then maybe something would have come of it. But I cannot travel in time, not anymore, so, I don't give it much thought now. The question 'what would have been' is not all that essential when there is no starting point anymore.

Continuing with the story. I flew away rapidly, trying to get to my friend Sam's home. What I was not expecting, however was blade in the back. Technicaly, it was Fenton power shortcutter, analog of Plasmius Maximus. Looks like my 'friends' feared me as well.

The next waking call I heard in GIW labs. That's where the most horrible month of my life began. I don't wish to recall everything what happened there. All that pain I suffered in that god forsaken building. But it was also the time when I admitted to myself everything I'm telling now. Then I escaped. It looked like a weekly dissection procedure. My healing allowed for what no mortal could ever live through. You won't see the frogs in your biology classes, of that I can assure you. I still don't get what was so interesting inside me, that they repeated process again and again. They always shouted 'Shut up, scum! You can't feel anything!'. What a sick joy I felt when I broke their bones with the same exact words after I broke out from restrains. One little mistake, one rusty and loose bolt, and one of my hands was free.

When I got on the surface, I was surrounded. I was weakened, I didn't know what to do. The bloodthirsty rage could only get you thus far. Thats when the time stopped. I was saved by Clockwork, the Time Master I had the pleasure of meeting months before. And that's what is left of that freshman kid with childish hopes, a person who just went on a spree. And who knows what would have become of me without the help of the cheeky Time Lord. From that moment on, I took the pleasure in my afterlife in the world I grew to love as home.

So who am I now? I am Daniel James Phantom, High King of Ghosts.