Danny Phantom Images Novels & Stories

The one connected to my Sexy Red persona. Danny's name flashed on the screen. What could he possibly want? My hands were shaking as I grabbed the voice modulator and answered. "Hello?" I said in my altered voice. "Sexy Red, hi," Danny said, and something in his tone made my stomach drop. "Hi," I responded carefully. "I thought about everything you said," Danny continued, his voice oddly calm. "And there's something important I need to tell you. Can we meet? Just briefly. In the next ten minutes. This is very important."

Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding. “There is no use objecting on this, you won’t let me leave anyway; therefore, might as well stay, right?” He teased, making me laugh “do you at least have a charger for me to charge my phone? I’m guessing that calling Leonardo would assure him that I’m fine would be the best thing right now”

"My name's Danny. I worked for Sal. For years. We were watching them. The Vincenzos. The De Lucas. All of them." Alex sat on a crate across from him. "Watching them for who?" Danny looked up. His eyes were the color of rust, the pupils too large, like he hadn't slept in days. "For ourselves. For the people who got crushed under them. The ones who disappeared. The ones who ended up in the river." He gestured to the papers. "We kept records. Names. Dates. Places. Everything they thought they buried." Alex picked up one of the photographs. It was old, the edges soft, the colors faded. A man, young, his arm around a woman who was laughing at something off camera. He didn't recognize the faces.

Danny peeked around the corner, back toward the main garage area. There, Maxwell was still sitting in the waiting area. He had no idea he was being hunted like prey! Danny raised his phone, zooming in slightly to get a clear shot of Maxwell's face. He had to be careful if Maxwell noticed someone photographing him, he might get suspicious and leave. He took the first photo, but it was slightly blurry. Danny cursed under his breath and tried again, steadying his hand. Better! This one captured Maxwell's face clearly his confident posture and verything!

Jon mumbled. "And that undisclosed buyer is me," said Dante smiling widely, his sharp teeth glistening in the dim room. "Let's see if you can guess who painted the next one." Dante walked eagerly to the next painting, his cane tapping on the wooden floor like a one-legged giant insect. He likewise turned on the pin lights and the painting exploded in colors of bright red and burnt sienna. "This painting is something I really like. Tell me what you think?" The second painting showed a half-naked man with eyes opened wide as if in a crazed state. In his hand was something that looked like a severed human arm while blood was seen dripping from his mouth. He appeared to be in a desert and faint

As soon as I met their foyer, I pulled the handle and gently swung the massive door open. I was greeted by Danny whose dirty-blonde hair was disheveled, and an apparent swollen bruise plastered on his left cheek. The side of his lips had a small cut, as the blood began to peek through it. His blue eyes were narrowed, rigid, and cold as if anger was starting to build up behind them. He gave me a stoic face, clenching his sharp jaws and his body seemed tense. What the hell happened?

“And Carter’s.” My throat tightened. “Explain.” Phineas touched the stone with the tip of his finger, and red light bled across its surface, swirling into shifting images—firestorms, shadows with eyes, two figures battling beneath a sky split open by light and darkness. One figure radiated blinding gold. The other bled red and black like a living wound. My pulse stuttered. “That’s—” “—you,” Phineas finished quietly. “And the boy you are trying to save.”

Her words cut me far deeper than I’d like to admit. But no matter how reluctantly, I end up checking her profile anyway. And sure enough, once her page loads, dozens and dozens of her pictures with Damon appear. Damon in a crisp white shirt, his hand resting on Hannah’s waist. Damon at dinner, laughing — really laughing — while Hannah leans into him. And then there’s Danny — their son — grinning up at Damon as he carries him on his shoulders, all three of them glowing under the golden light of a weekend sunset.

He shuddered at the thought of the vampires, he had refused to believe that vampires still existed until he had seen Dracaryx and the others. The door to the room opened and Dracaryx walked in. Dante immediately went on his knees. Dracaryx walked up to him and patted his head. "Good boy." he praised him. "Thank you master" he answered. "Stand up" Dracaryx ordered him.

I said. His breath caught. “Really?” His eyes widened. “You’re sure?” “Yes,” I smiled. “It was just spotting. Nothing serious.” Danny exhaled so hard he nearly collapsed against the wall. “You scared the hell out of me.” “Look.” I held out the photo. He took it reverently, his mouth dropping open. “Are these them?” I nodded. He stared at the image like it was magic. “There’s three.” “I know,” I said. “Three heartbeats. Three lives.”