Hey everyone! Well, here it is! My second fic, yay!! I'm soo excited to put this up :) lol

Summary: When you live in Amity Park, you know there is always the chance of being captured by a ghost. And one day, it finally happens...to Danny Fenton. Now enslaved by Vlad, he works in the ghost's Wisconsin mansion. Escape is an option, but perhaps staying sane is a priority.

Okay, so this rated T just in case (and maybe for later too).

Alrighty, well, I don't have much else to say, so...enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

Danny's POV

Drip.

I heard the droplets of water clank against the hard, cold floor.

Drip.

There goes another one…

Hmm, I think that had been the 637th one. Or was it 673rd? I wasn't sure, I'd lost count quite awhile ago. But it was all I could do to keep myself entertained.

I sat in the furthest and darkest corner of the small, empty, windowless room, my knees brought up to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around my legs. My head was tilted to one side, leaning against the cold, discolored wall. I shut my eyes tightly, memories and scenes from the past few hours swirling through my mind, creating a painful vortex. I flung my eyes open, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was all a dream… well actually, more like a nightmare. No such luck. What I had experienced was real. Those past few hours were real.

How could so much have happened in so little time? It was impossible to believe that just a few hours ago, I was at the bowling alley with my two best friends, eating, playing and laughing. It seemed impossible that it was just a few hours ago that Sam had punched me in the shoulder for staring at Paulina; that Tucker had accidentally spilled his soft drink on his brand-new PDA; that I myself had gotten three strikes in bowling.

Tucker. Sam.

I felt the heat steaming from my eyes as I tried to hold back tears. What had happened anyways?

"Tucker! Give me back my fry!" Sam smiled as she playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Hey Sam, aren't you vegetari-," I started.

"Ultra-recyclo vegetarian." Sam quickly corrected me.

"Uh…yeah. And you know those fries are fried in meat sauce?"

"Yeah well, I had them make it special for me…uhh…Danny? Helloo? Are you there?" Sam waved her hand in front of my suddenly distracted face. I was yet again absorbed in the contemplation of Paulina, who was walking by, struggling to hold up her bowling ball. I sighed, mesmerized. Sam rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Get up Romeo, it's your turn," she grumbled, her tone a mix of exasperation and bitterness. She shoved a bowling ball in my hands. I tried to hold the ball, but it turned invisible, (as did my hands), and then simply phased through me.

"Dude, it's happening again…" Tucker remarked.

"Thaaank you Captain Obvious." Sam retorted.

"Aww man… I can't stand this. It keeps happening! I just turn invisible and stuff goes right through me! I don't get it!" I complained, looking around frantically to make sure no one had seen this.

"Haven't you told your folks yet Danny?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah, maybe they could do something about it. You know, they could use their cool ghost weapon stuff," Tucker added.

"I don't wanna tell them," I said.

"Why?"

"I don't know… I just have this feeling that I shouldn't tell them…It's like my natural instinct telling me not to or something," I replied uncomfortably, "Besides, I don't like getting mixed up with my parent's ghost business."

Tucker opened his mouth to say something.

That's when it happened. A loud crash came from above us, as a large muscular ghost in a metal looking suit burst into the bowling alley. He held a large gun in one hand. Children and adults tried to flee, though it wasn't an easy escape. Once the hunter had his eyes set on the prey, he'd aim and shoot. And he rarely missed.

I was lost amidst the commotion and confusion. I stood frozen, rooted to the ground. In the panic, I couldn't find himself able to even move.

"MOVE, DUDE! NOW!" Tucker shouted, running.

"DANNY!! RUN!" Sam echoed her friend.

Finally, the message reached my brain, and I started running. But it was too late. I felt a powerful blast hit me right in the middle of my back. I stumbled, and fell to the ground, unable to rise again.

"This one should be a nice addition to the collection," the ghost said. I recognized the voice. It was that predator ghost.

I felt myself being hoisted up by the ghost, and then thrown into a small compartment, as I blacked out.

I sighed as I wiped the tears from my face. I couldn't cry. I had to be strong. I wasn't going to break. But that was easier said than done. I wasn't sure exactly where I was, or what was going to happen to me. Anxiety and fear swept through me as a vivid image and memory of the ghost that captured me earlier hovered before my face. I quickly opened my eyes, making sure the actual ghost wasn't in front of me. I sighed in relief. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Skulker. Apparently (according to the ghost), the liquid he'd used to shoot me was a double dose of heavily concentrated tranquillizer. It was so strong that it could actually put me to sleep. How a tranquillizer, which was supposed to relieve pain, could cause so much pain, was beyond me. Maybe Skulker was lying? Whatever. It didn't matter.

The only thing I was concerned about was my near future, (assuming I had a future at all, that is). What would happen to me? I'd heard stories of people who were captured by this ghost. In fact, there were even a few in last week's newspaper. I remembered the headline clearly. Jazz had been brooding over the subject at breakfast. I, both indifferent and apathetic about the topic, had finally had enough of her and had asked her to: "Please SHUTUP!" Jazz had rolled her eyes, but thrust the paper in my hands, forcing me to drop my bread roll.

"It's really weird Danny. Everyone who's been captured by this guy has disappeared and never returned!"

THE PREDATOR STRIKES AGAIN! The headline read.

I remembered reading that no one knew where the poor prisoners were taken after the ghost had captured them.

I know where… I thought bitterly.

Once again, I plunged into the deep pool of my recent memories. What had happened to me after the attack? I'd woken up, and then…

I awoke with a jump. My captor shoved me to my feet.

"Get up whelp," he growled harshly.

I was forced to rise, but upon doing so, I felt an enormous weight pulling me down. I stumbled and fell to the ground.

CLANK!

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a glint of silver near my foot. I looked down, only to see a large, thick silver brace clipped around my ankle. Chained to the brace was a large, heavy ball.

"Like it?" the ghost smirked, "It's to make sure you don't run away."

"What's going on?" I groaned, still in pain from the "tranquillizer" that had entered my body earlier. I could feel it flowing through my veins, burning me up inside. Despite the pain, I rose to my feet, careful not to fall this time.

"You're in the Storage Room, kid. This is where I store all my prisoners until they're needed," he replied, somewhat bored, though a hint of excitement could be detected in his voice. Excitement caused by the thrill of causing pain to yet another helpless person, no doubt.

"Needed?" I managed, apprehensively, uncertainly.

The ghost only smirked. I waited awhile more, before Skulker left the room. I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and turned around quickly. A girl about my age looked him in the eyes.

"Are you new here?" she whispered softly. She had no chains, but there were glowing circles around her hands. Almost like ghostly handcuffs.

I nodded.

"My name is Gwen. I'm from Amity Park," the girl said, wiping her eyes. They were red, as though she'd been crying. She brushed back one of her curls. Silvery blue eyes shimmered from underneath the thick layer of bluish-black hair covering her face.

"Um, hi…I'm Danny…I'm from Amity too…uh…where are we?" I asked weakly.

"Storage Room…" she said sourly.

"I know, but…"

The girl sighed wearily.

"Didn't Skulker tell you?"

I shook his head hesitantly.

"Well he said I'd stay here until I was needed. What does that mean?" I spoke the word 'needed' with great unease.

"He didn't explain the system to you, huh? Well, this is an organization. They hire ghosts to 'hunt' for either humans, or simply other ghosts, that they will, once captured, keep as Prisoners. Then, every day, they take a few Prisoners to the Picking Room. There, they are bid on by other ghosts and then sold to the highest bidder as a slave. It's like an auction. The hunter ghosts are paid commission depending on the number of people and ghosts they manage to sell, so they'll do virtually anything to get rid of the Prisoners."

I trembled in spite of myself. A look of disgust spread over my face.

"I know. It's inhumane," the girl agreed.

"Are we even still on earth?" I asked.

"Well…we're kind of like in another dimension. It's called the Ghostzone. It's like a ghost world, instead of a human world."

I nodded to show his comprehension.

"You don't really know much about ghosts for someone who comes from Amity…"

"Well, my parents are ghost hunters, but I don't like to get mixed up in that sort of stuff." I replied.

I hesitated a few moments before speaking again.

"How long have you been here?" I whispered.

The girl smiled bitterly.

"Too long. I don't even know actually. Maybe a month, maybe two. It may've just been a few weeks. But it's been a long time."

"But wouldn't Skulker want to get rid of you so he could get more money?"

"I dunno. He keeps saying he's keeping me for something special." The girl shuddered.

Then what had happened? That was it. The rest was a blur.

I sat in complete silence for a few minutes. I could hear drops of water clank against the floor. I shut my eyes tightly, trying desperately to remember what had happened next. Then I realized that, even if I did remember, there was no point. The past didn't matter anymore. Only the future, and what would happen to me in it mattered. I didn't even know why I cared so much about that particular memory. Did it hold some sort of clue or importance?

I squeezed my eyes closed even more tightly, a tear rolling down my cheek. The salty water leaked in through my lips and entered my mouth. A small sob escaped my mouth. I sat there awhile longer. Slowly, my sadness and grief transformed into anger…rage.

How could that…that…that…ghost do such things! It was cruel! It was simply inhumane! I clenched my hands, seething. Just then I, felt my hands heat up, like fire. Literally. My jaw dropped and I gaped at my fists in awe; they were glowing with green fire!

What the…?

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion as I stared at my hands in shock and amazement. My anger quickly died down, replacing itself with curiosity and wonder. I stared at my hands for a few moments more, clenching and unclenching them, moving them in front of me, and trying to figure out the mystery. But soon afterwards, the green fire died out.

What is happening to me…?

Then, as if relinquishing all hope, I gave a small sigh and let my head fall forward in defeat. Then, once again, subconsciously, I began rummaging through his memories.

There was a boy sitting at a round kitchen table. He leafed through the pages of a magazine, but it was obvious that he wasn't the least bit interested in it.

"Hey…" said a girl's voice.

"Go away," the boy grunted, immediately recognizing his sister's voice.

"C'mon Danny, what's wrong? You've never pushed me away like this before!" Jazz urged. She put a comforting arm around her younger brother. He pushed it away.

"Just leave me alone, ok?" he pleaded, irritated.

"Danny! Please!" Jazz cried, her eyes pleading. Danny hated seeing his sister like this, but despite himself, he felt his anger boil inside.

"Go AWAY!" Danny finally screamed.

"Look Danny," Jazz pointed out, in her annoyingly condescending tone, "Since you won't tell me what's wrong, I'll just leave you with this one powerful piece of advice: There's always a light at the end the tunnel."

What? That memory was from three years ago! Why did it just come to the surface now?

What did that have to do with anything?

Though, I must admit, I cracked a faint smile as I thought of my sister. I recalled that particular situation. I was being bullied but I didn't want to tell anyone. As usual. And my sister wanted to interf-, help. As usual. I let a small sigh escape through my mouth.

Just then, I heard loud footsteps approach. The door of the prison creaked open; I braced myself, as the shadow of a tall, dark figure appeared at the door.

Alrighty! That was the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed ♥

Ok, so, I love constructive criticism because, like any writer, I am looking to improve, so suggestions are welcome! Let me know about your thoughts and opinions of the story :)

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