Tell-Tale Eyes

It was his eyes. Whenever I saw them, they seemed to be laughing at me, reminding me of what he did to me. He destroyed my life. I hated him for it. A shallow neon green, they never wavered from mine, even when there were weapons of every variety aimed directly at him. Somehow, he still managed to dodge them all. Without looking at them, they were only looking at me.

I knew I couldn't ever beat him, not the way that I had always tried to. So slowly I devised a plan. A genius plan, if I do say so myself. I started with an observation, following the scientific method. My observation was that Phantom is never seen when he's not fighting. Then I came up with the question. Where does he go? My original hypothesis was that he went into the ghost zone via the Fenton Portal. If he went through the Fenton Portal, then he has to go through the Fentons' house in order to get there. I could destroy him there. But that didn't work. After he captured a ghost, he would fly away, in just about any direction. I thought I was finished. Now what?

But, after weeks of observation, a pattern slowly emerged. In the southern part of town, he would always fly to a particular alley, and not be seen until the next ghost fight. There was my ace in the hole. One day I explored that alley. There was nothing out of the ordinary. A few trash bins, graffiti, and some broken glass. The trash bins would be an excellent hiding place, and then I could destroy him.

So every day I would hide in that alley, watching him. He would come in, look around, and then go through the ground. I watched him, discovered how he worked. If I made a noise, even a little one, he would take about ten minutes just to make sure that nobody was there. I still stayed hidden, and he never discovered me.

The public loved him. They couldn't see him for the monster he was. If they discovered what I was planning to do with him, I was finished. I would need to hide his body. And never be caught. If I was caught, my already messed up life would get so much worse.

It took weeks, but my plans gradually came together like very precise puzzle pieces. I occasionally had to shave a little off of one piece, and add a bit more to another, but it was all necessary. The plan had to be flawless. Absolutely perfect.

My weapon of choice would be my tri-barreled ectoplasmic blaster. It would actually fry the ghost's molecules, destroying them. But it was not ideal for the situation. Too big, too bright, too noisy. So I went with a rather old weapon. It was a 14mm pistol, manufactured by the Fentons. Harmful to humans, but more so to a ghost. It was one of the Fentons' first inventions. The bullets were more like paintball pellets, they were painful and they would instead release a highly potent acid that could manipulate the molecular structure of living energy. It literally ate the ghost, and then the remains were nothing but ash, filled with potential energy. Plus it was quiet and fairly small. I had nicked one when the Fentons' were explaining how their Ghost Portal worked to my dad.

So, on the murky afternoon of Hallow's Eve, I crouched behind the large trash cans, waiting for my prey. The prey in question was at the time being mobbed by small robots of Technus's creation on Hartman Lane. He had been working double time all day, as many malicious ghosts had seen Halloween as a good night for feasting on the fear of unsuspecting trick-or-treating humans. He was more dead than usual. The fight was taking a toll on him, I could tell. His eyes were dimmer than usual, but they were just as shallow and unliving. After what sounded like lighting striking a metal sea, Phantom basically fell out of the sky, onto the ground.

I swore softly. This was my only chance to destroy him, once and for all. Phantom probably wouldn't be this weak again for a long time. But from my position, I wasn't able to hit a ghosts' vital point. Their only vital point, might I add. The head. Directly between the two eyes. All of their energy was focused there, and piercing that was fatal. A side shot wouldn't work. The gun didn't have as much power as a normal gun, it would barely pierce the ghost's skill.

Slowly, I took a chance. I stood up and started to walk towards the limp form of Phantom. My toe hit a can of soda, and Phantom jerked. "Who's there?" he called, attempting to get to his feet. I dove back behind the trash bins and waited for him to calm down. But he didn't. He kept looking around, his slightly glowing eyes alert but tired. "Tucker will be here soon," he whispered finally. "He'll come, and help me get home…"

Tucker? I shook my head. The traitor. He was supposed to be my friend. But Phantom now seemed relaxed. I dared to move again. Of course, Phantom somehow heard me, and twisted around.

"What are you—"

I raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet silently sliced through the air as it flew, and hit Phantom directly between the eyes. I smiled. A perfect shot. There was no way I could be discovered now. I had loaded the gun wearing gloves, and the body of the ghost would soon disintegrate. There would be no evidence left behind. Then a thought struck me.

Tucker. What if the red bereted traitor suddenly came dashing around the corner, only to find his friend and the half melted body of his…friend? My plans would all be for nothing. I would be seen as an enemy of the town, and my life would be over. I needed to keep everyone away.

But maybe that was not necessary. Phantom seemed to be dying already. I approached him cautiously. He was dying, but he could still have a few tricks up his hazmat sleeves. I didn't want to die. That wouldn't really be good.

He was convulsing as he clenched at the air for something. Slowly the tan that he had gotten faded into a deathly pale tone, but his eyes, the inhuman eyes, seemed to be brighter. He stopped moving, and his hands began to crumble into ash. As the crumbling hit his neck, he looked at me, and I screamed. The eyes, the horrible horrible unloving and unliving eyes watched me as they died, as their glow went away like a doused fire.

His ashes blew away.

The deed was done.

A week later, the Fentons were concerned. Their son hadn't been seen anywhere. I honestly didn't really care, I was too worried about myself. I once had a crush on him, maybe even loved him, but that didn't matter anymore. But they were also concerned about Phantom. He hadn't been seen, either. Eventually they called a little meeting, with all of Danny's friends, his teachers, and mayor Masters.

I acted calm and controlled. There was no way any of them could know what I had done to Phantom. Danny was a different story, but he had nothing to do with me, so they weren't that concerned. Then I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Something a fluorescent green.

Could it be…no, that was impossible. Phantom was dead, gone, kaput, and that was that. But what if? No, still impossible. Not even ghosts can truly come back from the dead. But then I saw it again, and I knew I was wrong. Nothing else had that inhuman shine. Still, I remained calm. Phantom wasn't truly real anymore, he couldn't hurt me. But could the others see him? Surely not?

Now they were asking mayor Masters about Phantom. He wasn't very supportive of Phantom and his…hunting, but he did seem concerned. There the eyes were again! Masters must have seen him…they knew! They knew what I had done!

"Would you happen to know anything about this?" mayor Masters asked me. I shook my head, though I was fairly angry. They were mocking me, mocking my fear! No!

"I killed Phantom!" I screamed, and the unloving eyes seemed to laugh at me.

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Based off of The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. So whose POV was it from? Review and tell me what you think!