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The Most Haunted Story in History	By : rinflowers1986 Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Danny glared down at the two cars in the driveway. His driveway.
“What do they want?” He asked aloud, knowing nobody would answer him. Nobody ever answered him. No one could hear him to answer him. “Why can’t somebody just talk to me for once?” He asked the room. No answer, as usual. He was alone, all alone.
Save for the living who were wondering around his house, touching his things, making plans no doubt to change what he had work on, what he had built, what he had arranged. “Why can’t they just go away?” He gritted his teeth. Loneliness made one angry with others. Loneliness made people bitter. And he had been lonely far too long.
He drifted down in the entrance hall. Normally there would be a big stairwell, but here the stairs were off to the side, unseen from the doorway, and sweeping around to the second floor landing. It was made for big entrances with wide flowing skirts. It was also made to hide the room behind the stairwell.
The girl who played here sometimes had took painstaking care to carve the winding oak banister into a long dragon like snake with a wide, gaping mouth at the end.
“Oh this railing is just horrendous. Scary! It’ll frighten away visitors!” the woman said, grating on his nerves. If they so much as splintered the work Sam had done for him, they would be hanging from the rafters in fright. He would make sure of it.
“Hello Mr. Foley.” Danny turned to glare at the blonde brute they had brought with him. He looked like one of those noblemen he’d always despised, a slicked back and slimy.
He recognized the man in the doorway as the old woman’s new attorney. He never liked the old one, had known the bastard would swindle her eventually. This knew one though; he was nice, even if his son was kind of a bother. Always talking about what he would do if this was his house, TVs, computers, satellites.
It would be a laboratory!
Kind of like it had been with his parents around, but at least they had a taste for the arts. That brat never appreciated the pains his mother, father, sister and he had gone through to build and design this house. Tucker Foley had no taste for the arts; he would never hold this house, like the old woman’s children would never hold the house.
Like this man, this new, fat, balding man and his family would never hold this house. They were going around making plans.
“Now honey, it’s such a treasure, you don’t want to ruin something so unique now do you? What a conversation starter it would be! And no one can see it from the doorway.”And the two annoying adults continued up the stairs. He didn’t miss them in the least.
“I hope you all got here without a problem.” The black man said. Danny always rather liked him, even if his son was an annoyance sometimes. The family wasn’t so bad.
“My batteries died way too early for my liking, but other than that, no. Mom didn’t even get jetlag.” Oh how typically teenage. Didn’t all the new kids have like iPods or something? Tucker did.
The blonde asked about the house and for a second Danny was surprised. No one ever asks about the house other than the usual “is it structurally sound? Who lived here before? Anyone famous? Is there secret passageways? What kind of people were they? Do you think they might have hidden something here?” No one ever asked about just the house.
Mr. Foley started in on how little he knew, which was the truth, and how he had met the old woman. Did anyone know her name? She never liked names. She was just old woman or grandma. Danny was amused by that. And by her artistic ability, she and Sam had added so much more to what he and his family had started.
They started up the stairs, Danny following them with his eyes “Did she carve all these designs?” The boys asked, his big hands not so much groping the rail, as his parents had done, but rather caressing it. Danny eyed him, wondering.
“Yes, most of them. Some are from her granddaughter. The snake railing was her granddaughter’s.” The boy shivered, Danny saw, and continued. He hadn’t meant to concentrate on him so fiercely; he had made the boy uneasy for a second.
They went on about money, taxes, and such. Hard times, hard times. When wasn’t this country in some kind of hard time? Even during prohibition, when everyone was supposed to be having a grand old time; people were still being shot up and killed.
In fact, some people tried to turn this house into some bootlegging operation. He wouldn’t have minded too much if they hadn’t blown out his bedroom’s window with bullets. Still, he owed the updated piping in the house to them. So he had opted to only scare them off, rather than expose their fiasco and ruin them.
With a yawn he effectively tuned out their conversation, choosing then to lose himself in his history until a loud shrieking of a horn came twirling through, shattering the calm of the house. With a glare in the direction of the door Danny headed up to the second floor where Foley would be looking down at Tucker, without a doubt it was Tucker, leaning heavily on the horn. He didn’t really like being at the house since that prank Danny had played on him in the tenth grade.
Ah, yes, a whole year of Tuckerlessness was quite an accomplishment for him, even if he was just a bit lonelier than usual.
He was a bit of an antisocial.
Mr. Foley handed the old woman’s briefcase to the blonde idiot, but Danny had ceased to care, as he often did, about the affair of the living. As annoying as the living were, unless they tried to do something to the house he didn’t like, they could stay.
“Wait, what the hell?” he glared down at the two again. It couldn’t be. She would NOT give that to anyone, she couldn’t. He had given that to her special.
“She gave me strict instructions to give it to you, not your father.”
It was the key. HIS key! Only Sam was allowed to use it, he had trusted her more than anyone in over a hundred years.
This was not happening. No one but the old woman and Sam could look at those things.
Certainly not this big gaping idiot!
He had to get that key back!
~*~*~*~
It had taken forever, the big dope insisting on looking though every room before deciding on one. Couldn’t he be like every other living person and just throw his stuff down in the first big room he came across? They were all pretty much the same.
Well except the master bedroom, the large rooms were all the same, the guest bedrooms were all the same; well save for the one next to the bathroom but that was only because the window was on a different wall. Why didn’t he just pick one so Danny could get that key back.
Dash came to the end of the master’s hall and Danny figured he’d finally pick one of the three rooms when he turned and headed back down the hall, crossing over the landing and walking into the opposite hall where the guest rooms were.
Danny felt like screeching, he could if he wanted, but last time he had he broke a few windows. That was when Sam had died. But this wasn’t an angry, pain filled need to screech. Just frustration, frustration and impatience, after spending over a hundred years here, you would think he’d learned some patience.
Dash looked through the rooms much like he did with the larger rooms, more a quick peak in the door than a real thorough check, which was all that kept Danny from pulling his hair out in vexation. He really, really wanted that key back.
Dash walked into Danny’s old room, which had played guest room to some chick entertainer in the early nineteen hundreds that Danny didn’t really like much. He was almost glad when her lover, who ran the bootlegging operation, found out she was leaking information and shot her up. Almost. He wasn’t too happy about his window being shot to all oblivion.
Much to his dismay Dash lingered, putting his fists on his hips, the briefcase under his arm, he looked at the newly installed window, new to Danny, as it had only been eighty or so years. It was like turning sixty. When someone says five years to you, you think, well that’s not very long. But if you were, say twenty, it would be an eternity.
Danny new, when Dash set his little CD player down gently on the nightstand and threw the bag on the bed, that the decision had been made. It wasn’t as if it would really bother him, really this was only his old room in a small way, even when he was alive he had spent more time in the attic. But damnit why didn’t the bastard just choose one of the larger rooms! Why did he have to take his room? He hated when people were in his room! It was like walking on his grave!
Didn’t anybody appreciate the sanctity of someone’s room anymore?
This guy had to go. He was not going to tolerate someone big idiot slime ball in his room for the next whatever many years. He wasn’t!
~*~*~*~
Danny and Dash do not get along here at first. I mean, Danny throwing things and acting like the usual bratty ghost throwing a tantrum, Dash going through everything he can to get rid of him, complete with voodoo spells, séances, burning brimstone in the attic, and generally just pissing Danny off. He actually sets up a ward in his room and Danny walks right into it like a brick wall.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. I will leave it with:
This is going to be hella funny
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The Most Haunted Story in History