I like to write disturbing things. :D

I've studied ghosts for years, since the moment I could read paranormal magazines. I don't know what it is about those odd manifestations of post-human consciousness, but they're just so fascinating. Throughout my years of study, I've learned a great deal, enough to fill several books. Jack, my favorite lab partner and husband, shares in my knowledge and love of ghosts. And by love I mean love to observe, study, and hunt them. He mostly likes to hunt them.

It's no mystery why we chose Amity Park to settle down in after college. They had a nice community, decent school, and the cost of living was within our budget. Of course, the best aspect and the main reason we chose Amity Park was because of its notorious paranormal sightings. Even better, the ghostly activity has really picked up this past year, ever since Danny Phantom appeared.

Me and my husband often study and hunt him. It's quickly become one of our favorite past times. He's certainly an enigma, unlike any ghost I've ever encountered. Most ghosts tend to keep to themselves, displaying a certain level of self preservation even when they occasionally bust out of their lairs and haunt people. But Phantom isn't like that. He actually looks for fights, spending hours at night flying around our city with a patrolling eye.

He's definitely attracted a lot of ghosts in this past year, too. This is both good and bad. Bad because, of course, Amity's citizens are put into more danger. Sometimes I'm even scared to send my children to school. However, the increase in ghosts has done wonders for our studies, providing ample field time and endless opportunity to observe and hunt these specters. Phantom's even managed to incur the wrath of the Wisconsin Ghost, giving us even more variety. Luckily, Phantom takes his fair share of battles, often fighting and defeating the ghosts he attracts so the town isn't overrun.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't see him as some silly super hero like most of the town does. Me and Jack are firm in our beliefs that he is just a ghost. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not quite sure what his obsessions is, since he seems to do a good deed one day and a bad one the next. Perhaps, since he obviously died during his teenage years, he retained his adolescence through death, struggling with a sense of self as well as trying to cope with his death.

Sad, in a way, but it's just how ghosts are. After all, they're nothing more than echoes of deceased human lives, floating along and driven strictly by their personal obsessions. They feel nothing except maybe a dull ache to fulfill whatever business they've left unfinished.

And so, based on that logical evaluation of ghosts, they obviously don't have normal human emotions such as greed, happiness, excitement, misery, etc, etc. And they certainly don't feel lust. Which means the scene in front of me makes absolutely no sense.

"Ah! What the hell, Plasmius! Get the fuck off me!"

The Wisconsin Ghost grinned wide enough that I could see it from my hidden post, fangs flashing in the moonlight. He ran a gloved hand up the Ghost Boy's chest provocatively, making the teen squirm and shout again. I looked over to Jack, making sure I wasn't imagining things. But he had the same incredulous expression as I did, mouth hanging open in slight disgust.

"Stop it! Ahh!"

I looked back up at the Ghost Boy to see him stretching his neck away, grimacing when the Wisconsin Ghost ran a tongue along his neck and sinking his fangs into the glowing skin. This was, without a doubt, the most bizarre thing I had ever seen.

"Isn't the Ghost Boy a little young for him?" My husband's low voice came from the right, his lip stuck out in confusion.

"Perhaps age is meaningless in the Ghost Zone?" I pondered, "After all, ghosts can exist for an undetermined amount of time. Phantom may look like a teenager to us, but maybe he's as old as the Wisconsin Ghost as far as the after life goes."

"Hmm." Jack hummed in agreement, watching the struggling duo with a degree of scientific curiosity.

"P-Plasmius! Knock it off!"

Phantom tried to punch the Wisconsin Ghost, but was too slow. His wrist was caught, held in a tight restraining grip. When he tried to pull away, the larger ghost tangled his fingers in his hair and yanked him forward, ignoring his yelp.

"So...should we stop them?" Jack asked.

I shrugged, at a loss with the whole situation.

"I don't know."

A sinister laughter came from the adult specter and he twisted the younger ghost around, pinning his shaking form to his chest.

"Jack, look." I whispered, sneaking a point at Phantom. "I think he's trembling."

He squinted, raising an eyebrow before shaking his head.

"Nah, that's impossible Mads. Humans tremble, not ghost. Ghost's can't feel fear."

Phantom cried out again, his electric green eyes wide. I felt my stomach twist a bit, for some reason feeling the need to stop the larger ghost and beat it into the ground.

"I don't know Jack, he looks pretty scared to me. Maybe we should help him."

"Now now Mads. Don't let normal reactions cloud your judgment. This may look wrong, but remember, their just ghosts. It's probably normal for them." He pat my shoulder, smiling down at me.

I still felt a little uneasy, but saw the logic in his words. He was right. They were just ghosts. My natural inclination to help him was just an automatic instinct for the morally unethical situation they were portraying. Nothing more.

"Still, I can't help but think Phantom is feeling fear. That doesn't make sense though..." I tapped my chin, confused by the evidence before me.

Jack watched as Phantom managed to rip himself away from...what did he call him? Plasmius? The Ghost Boy bolted about ten feet before crashing into a clone of the larger ghost, gasping and quickly flying away in what looked like pure terror. However, the real Plasmius grabbed him before he could escape, locking him against his chest again and holding a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams.

"Maybe he's just experiencing a memory of fear." Jack began slowly, organizing his thoughts. "Ghosts have memories of their lives before they died, so maybe he's remembering what fear used to feel like and imposing it on this situation."

"Ah, well that makes sense." I nodded, thinking to myself and giving him a cookie out of habit. He ate it in gleeful silence.

We watched the fight in the air for a bit longer; Jack started taking notes. I wondered if maybe I should videotape this for future studies.

"What I don't understand is why Plasmius is doing this to Phantom." He suddenly stopped scribbling notes, looking back up at the ghostly pair in renewed confusion.

"They're always fighting," I shrugged, "This is probably just another way to fight for ghosts. Plasmius could be doing this to drag the memory of fear from Phantom so he can take advantage of his synthetic terror as a way to defeat him."

"He seems to be doing a pretty good job." My husband muttered, frowning at the way Plasmius ravaged the boy's skin.

"Now Jack," I chided, a teasing smirk on my face, "Don't let emotion cloud your judgment."

He looked down at me with a half smirk of his own, rolling his eyes before observing the scene above once more. Plasmius forced Phantom to turn around, holding him down with his arms and leering at his terrified face. Phantom's eyes went wide and for a moment I thought I was seeing things again.

"Is Phantom hyperventilating?"

I felt silly even asking, but when Plasmius forced his lips against Phantom's, and the young boy seemed beside himself with panic, Jack had to do his own double take.

"It must be a reflex." He murmured, taking a moment to scribble down a few more notes.

I could hear his muffled screams, my gut twisting again. Plasmius suddenly ripped the top of Phantom's jumpsuit apart, clawed hands dancing over the exposed spectral skin. I felt disgust rise up in me.

"I forgot how primitive ghosts can be." I said with distaste.

Jack agreed, an unpleasant frown on his own face. Phantom's eyes were clenched shut, fists beating the older ghost's shoulders. I shook my head, hoping we'd be able to snag the fallen tatters of his jumpsuit to analyze it.

We sat there, waiting for Plasmius to declare his defeat and move on so we could search the area for fallen hairs and grab the ruined jumpsuit top. But the ghost deepened the kiss, violently ravaging Phantom's lip. He dragged one of his hands down the boys body, gripping a thigh before suddenly breaking the kiss, throwing the teen to the ground by his leg.

I didn't understand. Clearly, Phantom was more than terrified. Why was Plasmius continuing to taunt the boy?

"The Wisconsin Ghost sure is taking his time." Jack commented, watching as the specter dove at the fallen teen.

"They should be finishing up..." I frowned, not liking the way Plasmius was now straddling the screaming boy.

"Vlad, Stop! Get off me! Stop!"

"Vlad?" Jack wrinkled his nose.

"Well you didn't think his name was just 'Plasmius', did you hon? I'm sure Vlad is just the equivalent of a first name."

"Weird. Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius. Same first names as my son and best friend. Go figure." He shook his head, laughing quietly.

I wasn't listening, too focused on the battle turning something else before me. I didn't like this. Trivial kisses and groping was one thing, but I couldn't stand by and watch this young teen, the same age as my son, be so defiled by that devious ghost. That went against my code of ethics too much.

Phantom's screams were muffled again when Plasmius pressed his lips against the younger boys', yanking his flailing arms above his head and restraining them there. Another hand furtively snaked downward, toying with Phantom hemline. The Ghost boy was struggling wildly, chest heaving and glistening eyes wide.

Wait a moment. I froze, staring at Phantom's terrified face. His eyes were too bright, blinking rapidly.

"Jack." I said, my alarm restrained.

He stopped chortling, instantly quieted by my tone.

"Is Phantom crying?"

When he gasped, I knew he could see it too. Silver streaks slipped out of Phantoms eyes, dripping to the ground and collecting on the grass. Jack gapped, as stunned as I was speechless.

Then Plasmius' toying hand dove way past the hemline, breaking our already surprised minds with shock. Phantom's groaning scream was still muffled by a violent kiss, back arching. Plasmius' eye flashed, pure malicious amusement dancing in his pupiless hues.

"Jack, I don't think this is a simple battle tactic." I whispered, suddenly feeling very nauseous.

I looked over at his pale face. He blinked, shaking his head in disbelief, looking sick himself.

"But...but they're just ghosts. Why would he want to...to..."

"Jack." My voice was strained. I couldn't stand by and watch this. "I know their just ghosts, but right now that young ghost is being raped and I don't care what plain of existence he's from, I can't sit here and do nothing."

My throat was too tight, heart thumping. Jack gapped for a moment, but then his shock quickly hardened, a fiery look in his eyes.

"I gotcha Mads. You don't have to explain."

Relief at his understanding washed over me, and then, without further ado, we both charged.

It could have been worse. They could have left him. Bwhahahaha!