How many mistakes can and cannot be made?

"Quite a few" Fright Knight said in his deep rumble. "Depends on what is expected of you, although sometimes, a wrong decision can cost you dearly"

Not even of your own choosing? I didn't want this. The Fright Knight shrugged. "Few beings choose their destiny, only a few truly achieve it. Most settle for something of lesser value and then become complacent. That is the determining between those who are great and those of the masses"

There's no shame in being either is there? The Fright Knight once again gave a quick response, his emotions inscrutable behind the supernatural gloom of his helmet. "No, of course not. There must always be a weighted few of persons that carry the responsibility of the masses, and the masses that must, often unequally, bear the consequences of the decisions made for them. It's an unfair balance that is chaotic and unwanted, but it exists and balance must be achieved. It matters not who it chooses, it merely matters what you do when you are chosen. But these are delaying foils of cross examining philosophy you are presenting to ward off the final decision, come come, what is you answer Phantom?"

I look up and glance at the dust coated ceiling light with disapprobation, then glance back down at the scratched table with uncertainty. I need 48 hours, can I have it? No, Fright Knight shakes his head. "It is the Observants, not I, who are so impatient in waiting. You are their second elected in this matter, and for obvious reasons. They fear you, as they always have, and are playing for a measure of control, even if it is at the cost of their own personal influence. Moreover, they themselves are losing their power over the ghost zone; they cannot safeguard it as it grows more unstable with each passing day that Pariah Dark is dead due to their impasse between them. A single moderator is required, and Clockwork, as he did the last time, declined. He was their first selection, regardless of their mutual enmity with each other, considering that he has already been the virtual conduit for the past few years, but he is adamant in his refusal. Now they turn to you, second best, a medium between two worlds and charge of the Time master, and soon to be the undisputed preeminent power house in the entire ghost zone, if you assume their demand."

And that's why I'm saying NO! I get up out of my chair in a sudden flash of anger, feeling a flush of chill in my hands. The rush of power is dangerously unsteady and I slam my eyes shut, struggling to cap the dangerous amount of ectoplasm leaking from my core. The last time I had a lapse in control, I set the chemistry room on fire, much to the bemusement of the lab instructor. I used to drop beakers by accident, now I ignite them…how people haven't noticed anything more unnatural, I think is a matter of denial of the surreal. I deny the surreal, I know that who I am and what I am is impossible, yet real.

Fright Knight is silent for a second, before he slowly stands up. "I thought that the future King of the Ghost Zone would be more wise creature. Someday…I'll be freed of my curse and I'll be King, not the damned lackey to brats like you. You are offered this chance at immortality, almost unlimited power and wealth, and all you can do is quibble over failure that binds you to this more base existence. Fool! When I return at Midnight tomorrow, you shall accept, decline, or prepare to best me in battle for I will not stand this stupidity! Go ahead, struggle to: get that miserable grade from your teachers, pine for that wench you once called your soul mate and slave at a dirty food establishment! What a waste! Most powerful ghost in the Ghost Zone, stuck on some sentimentalities! Mark my words Phantom, you shall face the greatest assault on you and everything you value before tomorrow's sun has set than you ever have. Ghosts, demons, and all monsters in-between shall come to strike you down to claim the crown, and yet you still shall stay so fixed in so untenable a state of ambivalence. Fare thee well, sire!"

And with that, a wind and rattle shook the apartment so that the dishes rattle and the lights flicker, flame wraps around him and with a final flash, the Fright Knight vanishes. It was better for him to leave, I was getting thoroughly peeved with that guy anyway. Another minute and I would have thrown him back into the ghost zone myself personally, I could do it…I think. Maybe not in my own apartment, probably would have trashed the place, for the sixth time or something liked that. Damned ghosts…

My hands are cased in a steady glow of blue energy that wisps and flickering around my fingertips, bending the light around them in a strange way. I always assumed that my alternate, evil self was going to be much stronger than whatever I would become, but in fact, merging with Vlad's ghost half just capped whatever potential I still have going, although I would still say that Dark Dan was stronger in terms of brute force. Strange how my natural internal power turned an azure blue over time, although my basic ghost rays still are that classic neon green and my eye color remains the same. It probably has something to do with my versatility; first ice powers, followed by a bewildering array of abilities that nearly killed me on a daily basis throughout my senior year of high school and freshmen year of college. Worst was dimension shifting, which was pretty bad, although fusing matter was up there, almost destroyed the entire city of Milwaukee the first time I found out I could do that. Now it's just a life in the day of being me; nuts.

I think I'm going nuts. The letter on the table seems proof of that.

Dear Mr. Fenton

The University of Wisconson-Milwaukee is sending you a strong warning that a further drop in your grades will result in your dismissal from the University. This is not something wanted by either the faculty or the administration, and we are glad to assist you in any way to improve your performance and correct your chronic absenteeism from class. Counseling is available and you can always talk to your professors about dropping a class to free up more time. Regardless, this is our final warning before you are asked to leave.

Sincerely

The Chancellor

Well I would sure like to see myself explaining to the counselor or the Chancellor that I work for my gas bill and my rent, have to get back to Amity Park to make sure Spectra or Aragorn don't burn down the joint, and take regular "missions" from Clockwork on basis of being some sort of Ghost Zone mediator. Great. Caught between two worlds and feeling miserable between both of them, and here come the stupid Observants, demanding I become King and all.

Well Sure! Yeah! Just die and forego your human half for the rest of your life! Your immortal life and be a power-corrupted King forever, the next Pariah Dark 2.0 even worse. On the other hand, this! Expulsion!

I step out and throw on my jacket, baring the cold air. I need to think. It's dark outside, and the cold has sent even the rowdiest college students to their dorms or fraternities. Stepping down the hall to the open air stairway under a dead-moth infested sodium-vapor lamp, I hear loud music playing in the other rooms, or loud, raucous conversation, or silence; the noise of study.

There's a lot to think about. My bad grades, which although are nothing new are beginning to encroach on disaster. Getting a bad grade is one thing, getting a bad grade is worse. Guess my degree? Engineering; fastest track to get into the space program or something close enough, but hardest way to do it. I survived the first year by the skin of my teeth, but once calculus and physics got intermarried was when I began to give out; my mind does not hold onto numbers like it can hold onto facts. Wonderful, my dreams, going down the toilet with a long flush, I can practically hear it now.

There's more to it than that; that's a childhood dream going down the tubes, and those don't die easily. But then again, a lot of childish things have gone different ways since high school ended, or began-more like since my ghost half was created. Like…

"Hi, it's Sam, I'm kinda rocking to KISS right now while studying an all nighter, that or I'm lying and I don't want to talk for whatever reason. Whatevers, just leave a message and I might think about calling you back, thanks!"

Hey Sam, it's…guess who. Danny. You know, the guy that's really sorry and wants to talk? Besides, I know that this has to be, like the 5th message or something like that so…um. You're probably still pretty mad at me for the last conversation and what do I have to say? Not a whole lot, I know it's my fault…

I sigh

yeah so…if you ever want to talk again, or see me, I'm always waiting. Ciao.

I can't text her, she's blocking me, and I'm afraid she's sending my messages straight to a junk folder. Boy did I set her off, phew, it like the battle of Waterloo for Napolean, a total defeat for whatever we both had going. I had doubts about keeping the relationship going in college but I didn't think it would go down like the Hindenburg in a flaming inferno. Jeez…

Hey Danny, it's Tucker. I would just usually text you, but I'll just leave you a message, it's more direct. So, sorry about not returning any of your calls, it's sort of hard when you and I are separated by 2 time zones, and we can never figure out our schedules and your…extra-curricular stuff aka ghost messarounds. It was better last year when we were roommates right! Well that's past. Anyway, I just wanted to check on you, we haven't talked in 3 weeks now. You should see my new girl friend…ow!

Dumbass!

Danny smiled wryly as he heard a second person hit Tucker playfully.

For the record Danny, Bess is a meanieface and I blame all my clumsiness on you, it rubbed off on me! Talk to yah soon old man"

MESSAGE SAVED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO DELETE OLD MESSAGE?

CANCEL

Talk about old sentimentalities, that was the last I heard of the old Tucker, way back a month ago. Poor Tucker got into an accident with a Semi truck and spent hours trapped till they could pry open the car, he was lucky to be alive. Bess was luckier still, she passed in and out of consciousness that night and the legal battle continues to rage between Tucker's and her parents. He's different now; when the nurses let me talk to him, he's more quiet, subdued and often depressed, insecure and cloying, not at all the boundless center of energy that I knew him as. I have to visit him, it shouldn't be that hard…or maybe not, even I can't teleport that far out West. He must have a wicked story to tell about the accident and I mean wicked in a bad way.

Nothing stays the same does it? Every Day changes my life, just a little bit, but enough for me to realize that whatever I remember is merely memory, not reality. Sam's gone, Tucker's gone, I have new friends, study mates, girls I like and dislike, people I respect and disrespect. You thought you knew yourself, but looking back, you really don't, living in the moment is harder than you think, and before you know it, you've become a whole new person…scary.

The street is empty and silent and I balance on the curb, wobbling to and fro as I try to stay on the thin concrete between the sidewalk and the street, enjoying how the darkness is so total, mysterious and unknown. It matches my own life, and the way other people see it. I see a single flicker at the end of the street under the dim glow of an old street lamp.

My breathe is already condensing into unnaturally cold mist as I grimace and halt my lazy stroll, trying to identify that certain resonance from my ghost sense. Not a powerful ghost, very weak, but still strong enough to be persistent.

"Beeeeware…" a errie voice creeps across the cracked asphalt towards me. Nothing can be yet seen.

Of what? I call out.

"The revenge, the revenge is coming to haaaauunnnt you"