Story Scraps: The Bank

Why on earth was he pointing the gun at Phantom. Everybody knew real world weapons didn't work against ghosts. The gun wouldn't do any damage.

"Hey, I don't think you want to do that, man," Phantom said, still holding his hands up in front of him to show he was not going to do anything.

The robber only grinned at him, still holding the gun at the little girl. "You're pretty powerful, kid, but I don't think super speed is one of those powers ya have. You can't stop me and stop this bullet too."

Phantom glared at the man, his eyes sparking electric green. "If you do this, you will regret it." His voice was smooth, but I could hear anger brimming underneath.

The man sneered at him. "I'll take my chances."

Multiple things happened at once, too fast, too slow. I didn't know which, but all I knew was I couldn't do anything. I was frozen.

Phantom yelled out, lunging towards the girl. The trigger was pulled. The resounding boom from the gun echoed throughout the large room. And, a scream.

But, it wasn't the girl.

"Oh my God," I breathed.

Phantom.

The bullet went through Phantom.

He was on the floor, writhing in pain, clutching his abdomen where the bullet tore into him. Blood was everywhere. The girl was standing there unharmed.

Everything in me was saying this wasn't possible, this wasn't right. But, I couldn't deny what was in front of me.

There was a brief moment when there was total silence in the room. All the people stood there in shock, staring at the boy. That moment soon passed, and all chaos broke loose.

There was screaming, people rushing towards him, trying to help, and I'm pretty sure I heard someone calling the police. I was vaguely aware of sirens in the background, but all this faded to background. I quickly made my way to Phantom, shoving people away from him. He was a ghost, and I was a ghost expert. I could help him even if the circumstances were a bit strange.

When I was by his side, staring down at him I knew I was wrong. This was more than out of my expertise. This was more than strange.

There was so much blood. And, it wasn't the usual ectoplasm, no. I knew what ectoplasm looked like. I knew the texture, the smell, the components; I knew everything about it right down to the molecular structure of the ectosignature. This was not just ectoplasm. I saw red.

"Phantom," I said, kneeling next to him.

He didn't look at me. His eyes were scrunched closed, one hand clutching his side where he was shot. His breathing was shallow and fast and his face was pale.

I took his arm, trying to get his attention. I had to repeat his name a couple times before he finally looked up at me. The minute he opened his eyes, I could see it. The pain he was in. That was something he definitely couldn't fake. My chest tightened, and I felt short of breath. This wasn't right.

He clutched my arm. His hand was covered in his own blood.

He stared at me, breathing heavily, looking like he was in agony.

"Are you really hurt?" I breathed, still not able to come to terms with what I was seeing.

"M-m-m-mo," he gasped, not able to speak. He was looking at me desperately.

I couldn't help it. I put my other hand on his cheek, trying to comfort him. "It's going to be okay."

"H-help," he breathed, his voice coming out no more than a whisper.

"Don't worry; I'm helping you," I reassured him.

His eyes focused more on me, between shallow breaths he said, "I don't want to die."

His eyes finally rolled back, his head hitting the floor with a thud.