Ah, finally a little more action! I'm happy I've been getting some more time to work on this considering how ignored it's been lately. It's been one thing after another recently, but I'm happy to see I'm back in the upswing. Hopefully, it'll last for a while.

Well, as it's been stated exactly twenty-one times before in this fanfiction alone, I do not own Danny Phantom. He belongs to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. I am neither Butch nor Nickelodeon, so I say that takes care of the process of elimination well enough. That being said, please don't sue me. All I'm doing is paying tribute to a show that I love.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Old Wounds

"Well, they don't give up, do they?" Angela mused softly.

She was staring out one of the windows, hands clutched together behind her back. With little else to do in the Library, she had fallen back on old habits of her previous life when in the calm between fights. Observations, checking details, things that let her feel as if she was properly prepared. It was the only thing that was keeping her from going stir crazy right now, and the only thing she could really do that felt in any way productive was check on the enemy.

There were so many out there, tons of them. At the moment, she had calculated their numbers were about the same as what was in the Library, but with the time dragging on... It had already been another day, and nothing had been found, at least not that she had been informed of.

"You think they're trying to wait us out?" Wraith asked. Ever since their last talk, he had taken to... well, following her was the bluntest way put it. It had occurred to her he might have been doing it out of fear of the possibility of being grabbed, but she honestly doubted it. The kid was strong. He could take care of himself in a fight easily enough and he was prideful enough to think so to boot.

The merc had a hunch he wasn't staying close out of a need to be protected, but for something else. She had given him a kind word before, and then the warning to watch his back. Perhaps he wanted to stay because he sensed she could empathize with him, give him someone to connect with. Well, she had no reason to tell him to get lost, and she supposed she didn't mind the company as long as he didn't get in her way.

"No, I don't think so," she said softly as she watched another blast from the ghosts outside hit the shield. It didn't so much as ripple or crackle, or show any other sign of strain. "If they wanted to wait us out, they wouldn't be wasting all their energy trying to get in now. I think the Observant can keep them out as long as it takes, and I think they're afraid of that. They want to get in to grab us bad, and even if the odds are impossible, they aren't going to be willing to lie down and give up easily."

"They should know they can't though. They have to be waiting for us to make a mistake."

"I suppose it's possible, but it could be sheer desperation too," she replied. "This is essentially our stronghold at the moment. If they did get in, we'd have to defend it. Right now, I think we have the force to keep that at bay, but later on..."

"Later on we may not have those numbers," Wraith finished for her. "The longer we're inside of here, the longer we're at a disadvantage. But that's only if they can break the shield. The Observant says they can't get in though. According to him, that shield is impenetrable."

Angela wasn't about to contradict the theory. It certainly seemed solid, though she only had the Observant's word on that. Unfortunately, asking him for proof about this impenetrable fortress of his would probably not end well.

"I hate it in here," he muttered suddenly. "He's locked himself in that room, but what he's doing is anybody's guess. I don't understand. The whole point was to get a hold of the other worlds, for his cleansing. Don't we have what we need?"

"He says he's looking for a book in particular."

"But what book?" he yelled at her in frustration. She arched an eyebrow at his sudden outburst. Seemed she wasn't the only one starting to feel the confines of the Library. Strength or not, you could still get cabin fever all the same. She sighed and shook her head.

"Honestly, I'll be damned if I know," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders before turning around suddenly, surprised.

"What? What is it?" Wraith asked.

"Didn't you hear that?" she asked him. "Shh. Just listen."

Something faint sounded, but this time Wraith heard it as well. The sound was soft, but there was no mistaking what it was. A scream carried past the stone walls and bookshelves, just loud enough to be barely heard.

"What in the world was that?" Wraith whispered.

"I don't know," Angela said as she narrowed her eyes. "But it definitely came from that direction."

Wraith didn't wait for anything else, making his way through in the direction she had indicated. Angela, rather than try to dissuade him, instead followed his pace as he walked. There was really only one place it could have been coming from anyway, and she was just as curious as he was about what was going on. Any information about anything at all would be an improvement at this rate.

Standing in front of the door of the room the Observant was in, she laid her hand on the handle. Honestly, as much as she was curious, she had to wonder if she really wanted to see what was going on on the other side of the door. The last visit hadn't been highly encouraging to her to go back in any time soon. But as another scream filled the air, much louder this time, she forced herself to set her reservations aside and push the door open.

The sight inside was not exactly what she was expecting. Her suspicions had just been that a prisoner for the machine was being more vocal than the others while being drained. However, instead she saw the librarian girl curled up on the floor, on her knees and her head bowed as she whimpered loudly. She looked like a mess, her hair unbound and several clumps torn out and on the floor around her, while her clothes were dirty and shredded all along the hem lines.

"No!" she screamed, her tone both frightened and angry. "No! Stop it!"

She writhed on the floor, choking for a second as the two watched her before glaring up at the wall.

"Foolish little human," the Observant growled from her body. "Tell me where it is! You know! I know you do!"

Opal throat sounded as if were going to tear from how loud she screamed this time. She dug her nails into her scalp and shook her head rapidly. Angela could see little rivulets of blood seeping from her head, into her blond hair and coating her nails. She was trembling violently and shaking her head, the way she moved reminding the mercenary of a toy been fought over by two children, tugged back and forth.

"I said tell me!"

Opal's body slumped forward, sprawled out on the floor. She didn't move for a moment before slowly pushing her body back up to her feet shakily. Her chest heaved a few moments as she sucked in harsh breaths before she looked up at the two at the doorway. Calmly, she patted herself off, as if they had not just witnessed her screaming and being interrogated for information of some kind. Her brow creased as she glared at the two of them.

"I guess she was trying to break the hold you had over her," Wraith said as he approached. "I wouldn't have figure she would have enough willpower to fight back like that."

"She's persistent," the Observant muttered. "She's been acting up ever since yesterday, but that was the worst. I was trying to interrogate her on the location of the book I need, but in order to get information from her, she must be conscious. Keeping her aware and staying in control is taxing on her body. Sadly, she's been in less than a giving mood."

Angela didn't think it was that surprising really. Human or not, this was her home, and fighting back against the Observant was her last chance to defend this place. Granted, she didn't think the girl would last much longer. She looked like hell. Angela had to wonder just how long he had been 'asking' for this information. She didn't seem like she was in very good shape. Of course, from the fit she'd been throwing, how much of that had been self-inflicted and how much of it was what the Observant had done to her in punishment for not talking?

"I didn't expect her to be this hard to break," the Observant said. "She's just a mortal after all."

Turning to look at the machine, the ghost possessing the woman's body sighed as her fingers curled into fists. Blood smeared on her palms from her nails.

"What exactly are you looking for anyway?" Wraith asked as he took a step toward the Observant. "I thought once we had this place you would be set. What are we waiting for?"

The Observant didn't reply, didn't say anything, just continued to stare up at the machine. It was if he was lost in thought all of a sudden, that or he didn't feel like answering the question.

"Hey!" Wraith snapped suddenly. "I asked you a question! I'm not going to be stuck in here when I could be out taking care of Danny Fenton for no good reason! What's so important that-"

"He wants a book," Opal's voice suddenly rang out as she whirled around and grabbed Wraith's throat. "But he's not going to get it. None of you are."

Before Angela could even react, Opal reached out behind her, grabbing a hold of the machine's wires and pulling with all of her might. The cords snapped easily, coursing with energy. Screams filled the air, but the voices were only Wraith's, and while Opal looked as if she were in horrible pain, it was the Observant's voice instead of her own.

"You thought I was going to stand by?" Opal hissed as she grit her teeth. "You thought I would surrender my library, my home, my secrets to you? How dare you take a creation of my father's and pervert it to meet your own sick goals! I REFUSE TO STAND FOR IT!"

Angela rushed forward to pull Wraith out of her grasp, but it was too late. Yanking the boy forward, Opal shoved him into the machine's broken wires as easily as if he were a doll. Before the mercenary could even touch the librarian, something in the machine seemed to overload, an explosion erupting mere moments later.

Getting thrown back by the force of it, Angela shielded her eyes from the light and heat as she crashed to the stone floor. Grunting from the pain, she pushed herself up to look around, trying to see what had happened. Scrapped pieces of metal and wire littered the floor, Wraith's body on the ground... and so was the Observant's. Opal was panting, sparking pieces of wire still in her hand.

"You never should have come here," she breathed harshly, glaring at the mercenary. Torn and bloody, the librarian looked crazed and desperate. "The ghost is still hooked up to my father's machine, but you really believe it is going to stay in place much longer with the shape it's in?"

A loud boom caused Angela to look behind herself. What had that been? Oh shit, was the shield starting to break down? Half the machine looked to be blown to hell! How well could she really expect it work?

Looking back around herself, she cursed when she saw Opal suddenly make a break for it. Running straight at the wall, she yanked a golden circlet off of her arm before she slipped through it as easily as if it weren't there at all.

"Goddammit!" Angela yelled as she scrambled up. She'd forgotten all about humans being able to move so freely through the Ghost Zone. She broke out into the a run after her, though she was more than a little tempted to snap her neck when she caught her so she didn't cause any more problems.

"Stop her!" she commanded the others. "She's getting away. Do anything you have to! Just stop her!"

Opal however seemed to have the advantage here. She knew the Library more than any of the others, and it was easy for her to duck and dodge through the shelves or furniture out of their grasp. Angela knew she didn't have a chance in hell to fight all of them off, but if she didn't seem to be interested in fighting.

Breathing hard, Opal dove through another wall, her body screaming in protest. Forcing herself to try to keep her breathing steady and not hyperventilate, she looked around herself. The ghosts were already swarming around her again. She didn't have much longer.

"Oh dear god, please let this work," she gasped before grabbing a book off the shelf and running past another shelf just in time to avoid a blast sent her way. She was so close.

"Got you!" Angela yelled triumphantly as she jumped the woman when she emerged from the shelf, tackling her to the ground.

Gasping in pain and surprise, she cried out loudly as Angela yanked up her arm and twisted it crudely.

"Figured if I slipped this on before at just the right moment I'd have you," Angela hissed. She had jammed the bracelet back onto the woman's arm and glared down at her. "This makes you solid here, doesn't it? I imagine living in the Ghost Zone without the accessories of your would make things a little difficult for you. Thought if you ditched it, I couldn't attack you? Well guess what, you're as solid as I am now."

"Yes, you are correct. I am," Opal breathed before swiping at Angela's face. Nails digging into her face, a thumb shoved into the soft iris of her eye. "But you are too!"

Angela reeled back as she howled in agony, clutching at the right side of her face that was currently gushing with blood. Red hot liquid seeped through her green fingers while her mind exploded in pain as Opal took her chance to get to her feet quickly and continue to run.

"You fucking bitch! I'm going to get you for that!" the female merc screamed after her as she ran.

Panting, Opal just kept going, her steps shaky but she forced herself to keep moving anyway as she clutched the heavy book to her chest. Skidding to a stop in front of a large vault door, she grunted as she pulled it open. Looking up wildly, she saw the hoards of ghosts coming towards her, advancing and closing in on her location quickly. Giving the door one last harsh tug, she threw the book inside before pulling the door shut behind her, locking it just as she heard something slam against it.

"No," she breathed. "No, no, no."

Crawling quickly towards the book, she was near tears as she opened it, flipping through pages frantically. Bangs and thuds pounded at the door as she forced herself to stand, slamming the book on the pedestal.

"Have to get out," she sobbed. "Please... please work... please, please, please..."

Gasping in lungfuls of air, she planted a bloody hand on the pages of the book, chanting as best she could as she watched the stone doorway crackle with energy. It was weak though, like a candle trying to light but the wick unwilling to catch aflame. Her eyes widened as she looked behind her at a particularly loud thud against the door. The steel was coming off, the hinges starting to twists.

"No!" she cried, tears running down her face as she looked back at the portal. "Work! Please!" Suddenly the sound of glass shattering sounded, loudly amplified somehow so that it surrounded her, echoing off all of the walls. The portal suddenly burst into life and she dove for it, throwing herself into it just as the door crashed to the floor and the ghosts flooded into the room.

Panting on the tiled floor, Opal quickly backed away from the portal, pushing herself along the floor with her legs. The blood squeaked under her against the tiles as she saw a book lying on the floor next to her. Tears flowing from her eyes by now, she threw the heavy text at the portal, a mirror on the side she was on now. Glass broke under the book, shattering and falling to the floor in chunks and slivers before she let herself slump to the ground, crying her eyes out. She rocked gently on the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself. She just cried for the longest time, hugging herself, as if it would make everything that happened go away.

Soft thuds sounded, coming closer steadily to where she was laying. If she heard them, she didn't show it, only continuing to weep and rock herself gently. The footsteps echoed for a few minutes before they finally stopped short. Opal looked up slowly, lifting her head from the cocoon of safety she'd formed with her arms and had previously pushed her face into to look at the person before her. Her gaze was met, but only for a moment before it wandered over to the shattered mirror, glass littering the floor and the book she'd smashed it with. A soft growl of annoyance sounded, but she was too tired to care too much.

"How long have you had a way to access my home?"

She breathed in deep, trying to calm down enough to answer the question. It took her several minutes to be able to stop her tears though, and even longer to keep her chest from feeling like it was on fire. Sniffling, she wiped at her tear-streaked face and eyes with her sleeves and took a deep breathe.

"I... came here for aid," she explained, looking down at the floor instead of the other person.

"That's not what I asked. How long have you been able to come here? Has that mirror always been a gateway in here?"

"Well...yes. For as long as your home has existed, to speak honestly," she sighed. "The book is one of yours that you had written when alive. It's connected to you, and I used it as an escape. My home is in danger, everything is. I know you do not want me here but there was little choice. I had no options left to me. I was trapped, and just managed to escape."

"Figures. And how did I just know you were going to come here eventually with your damn problems? Seems you can't just keep your misfortune to yourself. Not much has changed."

"I have already said I did not have any choice," she said softly. "I-"

"Oh, don't start that," he hissed. "You would think I had made myself clear before. I don't want to be bothered, especially by you. You just figured it was okay to come to me though, despite the promise I have from you and your father to leave me alone. Oh no, personal integrity and honor go right out the window when you want something."

She stared up at the man in front of her, and Ghostwriter glared right back. While not a large or intimidating ghost, she had seen him angry before and did not have the energy to want to see it again. Still, she had accomplished her escape, but she stood her without any resources. No idea of what was going on, where anyone was, or what her next step needed to be. As much as he didn't like it, she did need his help. Eventually she stood and did her best to smooth down her clothes in an attempt to be presentable. While she may have been scratched and dirty, begging on the floor would do her no good.

"I have not approached you for years, and my father let you continue on with the understanding he was shielding you from those who would want to see you destroyed. You owe him at the very least," she stated as she tried to keep her voice even. "I understand your venom, and I have not forgotten it, but this is not between you and I. There are dangers out there, dangers that need to be stopped, or everything is forfeit. I am not asking you to forgive me. This does however threaten us all, including you. Be bitter, be angry, I do not expect anything less, but please, lend your help. I need to find Clockwork."

"I take it this has to do with that library of yours getting taken over by some insane Observant?" he asked levelly.

"Wha... How do you know about that?" she asked him, bewildered.

"Rumors have been going around crazy for days now. Every soldier at the Observant's disposal has been trying to get past the shield that was erected around it for a while now. Something like that's a little hard not to notice. Of course, when it got out Clockwork broke out of Walker's prison-"

"My uncle was in prison?" she exclaimed. "Why? How?"

He looked over her sorry state and shook his head.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?" he asked. "And they say I'm secluded. Then again, the rumors running around have been impossible to ignore, and from the look of you, you were in the Library when it got taken over. Bringing useless to new levels, are we?"

She swallowed hard at the insults thrown in her face, but even if she were in the state to argue, she wouldn't have. It was true, every word of it, and she deserved the lashing. Everything had gone wrong, and it was her fault. She hadn't been strong enough either times her home had been intruded upon, and now everyone else was paying the piper for her errors. The very last person she should have ever expected compassion from was him anyway.

"If you're expecting me to grab my keyboard and fix everything, you should know as well as I do that can't work. My powers are temporary, and only continue while I write. Besides, do you honestly think even if I didn't have those limitations, I could ever sway an Observant of all things?" he snorted.

"Why was my uncle arrested?" she asked him again.

"Apparently the Observants ordered it, but why I can't say I know why. Of course, it was about the same time the shield went up. Looks like your bosses decided to take things into their own hands," he informed her as he smirked. "Of course, all I know are rumors. Vortex has been spreading the news like the damn Energizer Bunny. Everyone knows he can never shut up when anything exciting happens though most of the info has holes everywhere. The theories are getting a little crazy to be frank. I don't think anyone has any idea what's really going on since the Observants are usually so passive and tight-lipped about everything. None of them have come close to guessing why a banished Observant is holed up in what is pretty much a library of all things, but I had a feeling it might have something to do with a little Quill I'm so familiar with," he muttered out the last part scathingly.

She opened her mouth to say something, paused, and then nodded her head.

"I have no reason to hide it. I can only thank whatever is merciful that most don't know about the Quill, though with everything happening, I must wonder how long that will last. Of course, I think that is really the least of our concerns, as much as I would have disbelieved those very words mere days ago."

"Really?" he asked as he arched an eyebrow. "An artifact that could let him reshape any world he wants and it's not a concern?"

"I did not say that, only that they are more pressings matters," she reiterated. "I must speak with my uncle. The Banished One, what he had planned was no take over, not in the way we had thought. His visions were more than to just pervert any world he could. He wants to destroy everything and start fresh, and he plans to do it as soon as possible."

"Is that why he took over the Library?" Ghost Writer asked, leaning against a bookshelf with his arms crossed. "To have access to all the books?"

"I thought so at first, but no," she replied as she shook her head. "He wants the book. Alpha. The first and original. The one that records the keepers: the Observants and their servants, every part of the Ghost Zone that there is only one of that connect all the other worlds. He plans to use this book to accomplish his goal. Taking the Quill, conquering a whole world and amassing an army of slaves, then claiming the Library as his own, it was only to give him the time and resources to find it."

"And how exactly is he going to use this book to destroy everything? The Quill?" he asked. "Don't tell me something like that can be done so easily."

"I am afraid that is what does not make sense," she answered. "I do not understand how such a book could aid him. It can not be rewritten, can not be changed and he could not control anyone with it. He should not be able to use this book to erase all the worlds no more than he could use a simple text book to. What he wants to do should be impossible. And yet... it should not have been possible for him to escape to begin with. He may be insane, but he is not a fool. I do not know how he plans to do any of this, but think it is a fair enough guess that he knows a way."

"Sounds like you should probably be telling Clockwork this then," he snorted.

"I lost contact with him some time ago," she replied. "The last time I saw him, he had left with Danny Phantom in order to apprehend the Banished One. After that..." She fell silent and shook her head, sure the poor condition she was in spoke louder than words. "I had no idea the Observants had done anything so extreme. But if he's escaped, he could be anywhere. I doubt he would have retreated to the Clock Tower. They would have searched there first. Perhaps the Fenton's home, but their portal is so far from here. I have to get to him and I have to see if I can learn what is happening at the Library. I have no doubt the Banished One will try to escape in the chaos. Who knows what his next step could be."

"Well, if you have a heading, then I suggest you get out there and set sail," Ghost Writer grunted, pushing himself off from his bookcase. "I think I know enough to know I don't want to be any part of this mess of yours."

"What?" she asked. "But everything I have told you, I came here for help. I need your talents."

"To do what, exactly?" he snapped back at her. "You think just because I wanted to settle my curiosity of why you thought it was okay to barge into my home and find out what was going on out there, I actually felt like helping you?"

"Yes, I did," she replied evenly.

"Well then you are even more delusional then the last time I saw you!" he exclaimed. "What do you want me to do? I can't fix everything and make it all better. I don't have that kind of strength! I'm not some dues ex machina you can turn to and use to solve all the damn problems you make! Maybe if you weren't so careless, you wouldn't have lost the damn Quill in the first place! Hell, if you ask me, that thing shouldn't even exist! You should have burned it years ago. A stupid selfish girl like you shouldn't have the authority to control anyone's lives!"

"I am sorry!" she cried out. "It was my fault! Is that what you want? Have I not said it enough? I make no attempt to hide my guilt, and I never have! If it is not satisfactory to you to hear me apologize, then tell me what I can do! I am not above begging, but I do not know what it is you want! Inform me of what I must accomplish to get you to lend me your aid! I would do anything, I would take back the fact that I killed you if I could!"

Ghost Writer simply glared at her before shaking his head.

"What would you even want me to do?" he asked. "I couldn't fix any of your broken worlds, I can't even affect anything except in this one, and only as long as I'm writing. I have no hold over any Observant; they would have destroyed me if your master hadn't convinced them that was impossible for me to do. If this banished Observant is controlling slaves, I couldn't even free them because they're under his control. I can't do anything. I can't even make him tell you what his big plan is, so what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"If I thought you could fix anything of that magnitude, I would have come to you first, before even my uncle I think," she replied honestly as she wilted a little. "But you can affect things, can change them a little. You could bring someone here with your keyboard, to let me find out what was going on. I would leave with them to go back to Clockwork, I promise."

"As if your promises mean anything," he muttered. "No. I'm not bringing anyone here. I'm not getting involved. I don't want to be involved."

She stood there, watching him glare at her and let loose a soft sigh.

"You will do nothing?" she asked him. "Nothing at all?"

"Hadn't planned on it," he replied. "But I do want you out of here, so I will do one thing for you. I'll take you to the Fenton's to get you out of here, but if you're wrong, if Clockwork isn't there, I'm not doing anything else, so don't bother to come back to me for help. You figure it out on your own."

Opal realized she didn't have much room to bargain. As it was, he was doing more for her than he had to, or probably even wanted to. She had to accept it. Beggars could not be choosers after all. If Clockwork was not there, she would have to search elsewhere, but at least this way she would be able to eliminate one location from her list of places to search. Perhaps there would be clues about where to go next there, even if her uncle wasn't.

End of Chapter Twenty-Two

It's pretty rare for Opal to get her own chapter. In fact, I think this is the first chapter that solely focuses on her without bringing out one of the more main characters (ignoring for a moment the P.O.V. was actually on Angela for a short bit). As it is, my OC has been little more than plot exploit, explaining what's going on and giving options on where Danny and Co. might want to go next. Despite this, I have been dropping little hints of her character here and there.

As some of you with keen memories might remember, she has expressed disdain for the Quill and its effects before, and mentioned a sin of hers. Well, as you can see, here are a few more hints on her own back story. Yes, she really did kill Ghost Writer, meaning of course she must have known him while he was still alive. And heck, if this guy can get bitter and pissed off about a book of his getting burnt to ashes, I don't think he would be happy with the person who ended his life coming along and asking him with help for something that is honestly pretty much over his head for reasons he pointed out very insistently. While I think most of the dots are coming together on what might be going on between those two, I'll let you make your theories, but I promise a full explanation will be coming out in the next chapter.

And no, there is no romantic interest between them, and there never was. Don't think I suddenly got the urge to start shipping one of my OCs with a canon character. None of that is going to be going on in this story. Besides, as you can see, he pretty much can't stand her guts.

I enjoyed that I was able to use him to point out a lot of her flaws, because yes, she is as flawed as any other person out there. She's screwed up on epic levels, and Ghost Writer doesn't really care about how she tried, he's happy to point out how's she fucking everything up, unlike say Clockwork or Danny who are both more concerned with fixing the problem than laying blame. Perhaps he's laying it on thick, but I don't really think so. After all, it's true, and when the multiverse hangs in the balance of being wiped out, does it matter that she tried? No. It matters that she was suppose to keep the books or Quill from falling into the wrong hands, something she failed at because she felt secure. As someone who is a human in the Ghost Zone, she relied heavily on her father and Clockwork. Surely if there had ever been an attack intended for the Library, her uncle would have told her about it long before it could ever happen? Even as seriously as she took her job, she never thought it would ever really be more than watching the books in the Library. She wasn't prepared for the possibility of any real threat, and now everyone is paying for it. I think I enjoy her character so much is because as my character, I can say that yes, it is all her fault, and show someone pointing it out to her, something that perhaps Clockwork should have done in the beginning.

On the escape scene though, I must admit I had felt for a while as if I had tied my own hands. I had looked forward to this chapter for a long time, but as it got closer, I became more and more worried. I had never intended Opal to ever be proficient in fighting, and I did my best to show that, mostly by her own admission and when she was pretty much beat twice in her own home. So how could I write a chapter where she single-handedly destroyed the shield and escaped an army of ghosts? It was suppose to be her time to shine, but how to pull that off without suddenly changing what she was capable of?

After all, would it not be rather Mary Sue for her to suddenly be able to kick the crap out of an entire army and bypass other impossible odds for no reason other than that's what the plot needed at the moment?

I had never intended of course for her to really beat much of anyone of course, but I had to wonder if the escape could be pulled off the way I had envisioned either. I didn't want anyone to rescue her; she had to be able to escape on her own. Luckily how I planned it worked well, or at least I hope so. She didn't really beat anyone, she just got away. It has touched upon in the show how possession can be fought against, albeit perhaps only slightly and at off moments (the case of Jack and Vlad in Bitter Reunions as an example). It seemed to me that in seeing the horrors that were happening in her own home would give Opal enough willpower to get control back of her body for a few moments, long enough to get to the machine. As it only affects those with ecto-energy, grabbing it wouldn't damage her any, but she could use it to take out the biggest threats, being Wraith and the Observant long enough to give her a chance to run for it. In this case, the home field advantage saved her, knowing exactly what book to grab and where to go, plus the luck of the shield breaking down before she was caught again.

I really wanted to carry some helplessness and fear through all of that, mostly because it felt the most realistic to her character. If she had been caught, she knew what would have happened, and I think that fear is what kept her going in those desperate moments more than any inner strength or a sense of duty did.