Silence suffocated the Fenton household. No parents down in the basement working on an invention, no intelligent daughter around, and certainly no son around.

Jazz sat in her brother's room, her aqua eyes trained on the picture of herself and her brother. Her pajama bottoms and tank top messily clothed her with her strawberry blonde hair disheveled. She sat on her sibling's bed; longing to be near the last remnants of her brother, admiring the portrait her brother still had since she first started middle school.

A middle school was in the background, and Jazz stood behind Danny with her arms around his neck. His big, crystal blue orbs were twinkling with the wide grin he sported. Even her aqua orbs looked at the camera with amusement.

Jasmine Fenton had heard the news; Dashiell Baxter had been released from police custody. A month and two weeks has passed since the police arrested the boy for "murder and attempted murder." But coming from a family with wealth, power, and influence, they'd do anything to keep their name away from a murder investigation. Even stepping on the grave of a seventeen-year-old kid.

Wet tears ran down her cheek, her little brother's death, no death, would go unpunished.

While Jazz sat and drowned in her tears, her mother drowned in something else. Maddison Fenton sat slouched at the kitchen table, a bottle half swallowed stared back at her. Her auburn locks were messily greasy, and lavender eyes were dull—lacking their usual motherly glow.

The matriarch of the Fenton family couldn't keep herself away from the bottle after her son's death. Even her obsession with hunting ghoulish spirits were halted when hearing her son's murderer was released. She concluded that his parents bribed or blackmailed a few of the cops in the Amity Park Police Department. What kind of person would allow someone's death go unjust just to protect their appearance?

But she didn't care anymore, her boy was taken from her and his killer walks free. Taking another swig of the bottle that eased her pain, she stumbled out of the kitchen. She became less sober when entering her bedroom.

Down in the basement Jack Fenton put in work against the bag. The muscle shirt that held his bulky frame was soaked with sweat from the intense rage he felt. Strike after strike, no matter how tired he got his rage wouldn't allow his body stop.

While dealing with the sadness of his second-born's death, despair quickly gave way to fury. Rage for the children that not only bullied but killed his boy. Rage for whatever god would allow the upstart to be released. And rage for the destruction of his family.

His strikes against the bag quickened, his eyes tightening when he felt a wave of new tears. He struck the bag continuously, despite the shaking of his arms The skin on his knuckles started bleeding.

Jack Fenton wasn't the most competent person but even the foundations of right and wrong. And a child's death, no matter the justification was always wrong.

The Fenton family was going through a tough time losing their youngest. The Manson family lost their youngest as well. Samantha Manson's death hit her family just as Danny's did his family.

Pamela, the girl's mother, wanted to be compensated by going after them. But that wasn't new for the people of Amity Park.

The Fentons and Mansons were rivals even before Danny and Sam's birth. Pamela certainly held harsh and elitist views of the Fentons. She genuinely viewed the Fentons' weird views and ways is the reason why they were low on the social spectrum. Especially their occupations that deal with the dead, which she has made clear to the world as "nothing more than a child's imagination gone unchecked."

Danny being a Fenton enough was the primary reason why she wouldn't allow her daughter to date him. The second being a social delinquent and a menace to the perfect society that she praised with his views and ways of looking at it and praises of rejection of it.

She tried to sue for the death of her daughter, but her husband reminded her that she couldn't get insured from the suicide of her daughter. Only pity, and pity wasn't going to bring back her daughter.

Danny and Sam's deaths were the trigger that set off so much pain, tension, and hatred. Eyes from beyond could only watch as the deaths of two lovebirds set off a war between crows.

Music played in an abandoned house; a beautiful and elegant sound. The house was a two-story with several rooms. The floorboards creaky and fragile, like a construction made of dust waiting to crumble. The furnishings were dusty and had cobwebs, and the atmosphere was dark and shadowy. But it didn't stop the music from playing beautifully soft.

In the living the room, a grand piano occupied the huge space. The grand piano looked new; ivory keys and a glossy body. On eye contact, the keys moved on their own, an invisible musician at work. But if one could see through the veil that separated the natural and supernatural, they'd see a young man.

Flaming white hair, pale blue skin, and pupil-less ruby eyes. He was tall and well-built, wearing a white hoodie underneath a black leather jacket and black cargo pants with boots.

His fingers played gracefully; a sound only true emotion could generate. After playing for a minute, Danny played the wrong key that disrupted the flow of the song. "Damn, how'd it again…"

Playing one more time, Danny noticed with his peripheral vision a swaying figure. The figure was feminine as it shimmered and materialized into a young woman. Glossy black hair with a ponytail tied at the top, pale milky skin, and eyes that—were also pupil-less—green lined with black eyeliner. A purple crop top, a leather jacket, black jeans, and heeled boots. A thorny vine snaking around her forearm, similar to a tattoo.

Danny smiled as he played more enthusiastically, the tempo becoming faster and more upbeat. Sam danced with more fervor, her movements made Danny's focus train on her; his fingers still flying across the keys.

Finally, after the musical duet, the two started laughing. Danny flew over to her and wrapped his arms before twirling them in the air, his legs turning into a long, translucent, misty tail. "Didn't you could dance like that."

"Parents always thought dance would help me become a proper 'lady'. And look who's talking, I never knew you could play piano." Sam's purple lips tugged into a smile.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, "In addition to going into space, I've always wanted to get into music. It's literally only one of the few talents I have, so when I found I had a knack for it, I kind of just fell into it."

"Well," Sam encouraged, "even if you're dead, you've got a skill for it."

Danny's pale face turned into a frown, his crimson eyes becoming sad. Sam frowned as well, understanding her boyfriend's feeling gloomy change of mood.

It had been two weeks since Sam's Death Day; the couple had started calling the days of their demises, Death Day. While Sam and Danny remembered who they were while they were alive, for some reason the memories they retained felt false and artificial.

The memories were fading, and the couple knew this. With each passing day their memories became harder to hold onto. It must be side effect of being dead, they speculated.

"You lost another, didn't you?" green eyes turned soft and affectionate. Red eyes became hard and distant, "My mom, Maddison is her name I think, I can't remember her face."

Sam watched as her boyfriend's hair lit up in an angry, white inferno; Danny's hair tended to reflect his emotions, an attribute of his dead status.

She rubbed Danny's shoulder, appeasing his temper. "Don't worry, at least you remember your mom, I can't remember mine at all."

Danny felt his anger become ice cold again, allowing his fiery hair to die down. Danny always guessed eventually they'd forget everything about their previous lives.

With a white-hot explosion, the room detonated. Sam felt Danny put himself in front of her, shielding her from whatever eruption. She wasn't worried, they were dead, and nothing on the mortal plane could hurt, but this felt different. Feeling the light die down, Sam's green eyes turned to center of the room, her jaw dropping.

A tearing in the very atmosphere that on the inside looked like a swirling vortex of black and green shadows. The entire house, became freezing cold, and it wasn't from Danny. Whispering voices leaked from tearing, putting anything alive on edge.

Danny felt this unwavering sense of connection and familiarity with the opening in front of him. "Sam…"

"What do you think it is?" Sam moved to Danny's side.

Phantom… Rose…

A voice in the back of Danny's head called for him to enter the portal. The fiery-haired ghost child felt terror when he felt the very life of the area be sucked into the vacuum of the tearing. The spirit took a few steps forward before a small hand grabbed his.

"What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!" Sam looked at her boyfriend like he grew two heads.

Danny didn't look away, "I don't know. I think its calling us."

"Have you gone insane?! We don't know what that is or where it'll lead us!" The female ghoul looked horrified.

Danny turned around to Sam, "Sam, we're already dead! Whatever it is can't kill us much less hurt us!"

Sam watched the otherworldly, dark green energy, stuttering, "What if its hell?"

"And what if its where we're supposed to go? Then at least we'll be together." Danny's ruby orbs couldn't be any softer gazing at Sam. The female spirit watched the dark tearing before looking at Danny and nodded.

Kissing one last time, the couple walked through the tearing. The breach shimmered as the two spirits entered it before it became a vacuum for all the air in the room and imploded on itself in bright explosion of light.

All that was left was a cold freeze in the air and the leftover whispers of others. Phantom… Rose…