Danny Phantom X Dash Novels & Stories

I look over my shoulder to see a huge black van, and when the door opens, there are screens all, chairs, keyboards, over tables, and everything Thorn will need to interrupt the cameras. “Ghost, you’re his shadow; wherever he goes, you go,” Wyatt says, and Ghost nods. I rest one hand on his shoulder, and he turns his head to see me and gives me a small nod. “You’re with me,” Wyatt tells Dash, and he nods, giving him a thumbs up.

I forgot about the Henny situation. "Henny is my childhood nickname. It pisses me off to hear it so Bobbie decided to use it all the time," Henry responds and gives him the same up and down look. Henry is taller and thicker, Dash looks incredibly sharp next to him, especially fresh out of camp, "You’re Dash, right? Dash Santos. I've heard all about you." "Yeah," Dash says, his frown still evident. He doesn't like this, "Well, I haven't heard shit about you except you're the best friend she lives with, Henny.”

"Danny?" "Danny Finn. He's in prison now, Riverbend Correctional. Got twenty years for a bank robbery that went wrong. But before that, he and his sister Caroline worked for your father. Eliminations. Making problems disappear. Your father sent them into a trap, got Caroline killed, got Danny locked up. But Danny knows things. Names. Locations. He might talk if you approach him right, offer him something he needs."

IAN Ear pods on, phone set, smokes ready, nightwear worn and pup stabilized. My night might not be wasted after all. Dash was in his yellow pajamas, his hands furiously pushing the buttons and turning the switches of his gamepad while he bit his tongue. His eyes were focused his video game, playing with it his life depended on it. His headphones were on and he was as passionate with his video games as I was in this p*rn I was watching. I stared at him for a while to be sure he wouldn’t come snooping around then got working on it.

the man asked me and I smelled his Zeta scent. “Damon Woods, Enforcer clowder,” I said and showed him my right wrist. “Follow the road up to the packhouse,” he said as he bowed his head at me. “The car following is my men,” I said to him as we drove through the gates and up to the packhouse.

“Oh, right, sorry. Grace, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is my precious, dramatic, beautiful, shelly, and amazing best friend, Grace.” I blinked at her. “I'm not even going to ask. It's nice to meet you, Daniel.” Daniel smiled at me. “Pleasure to meet you, Grace.” Now that I realised that Daniel was here, I also realised that they were most likely going home together. Which meant that I didn't want to inconvenience him. “Well, this is where I take off and grab a cab.” I stopped walking and said to them. “I can drop you off,” he offered casually, unlocking his car which actually stood just a few feet away from us. “It’s late.”

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. The door creaked, and Phantom strolled in with his trademark calm, though tonight he wasn’t wearing his pristine white suit. Instead, black clung to his frame, sharp as a blade. His smile was venomous. “Well, well,” Phantom drawled, circling Damon like a predator. “How the mighty have fallen. You’re not looking so sharp, Damon.” Damon lifted his head, spitting blood onto the floor. “Go to hell.” Phantom chuckled. “Oh, we’re already there.” His voice dropped, sharp with menace. “Where’s the flash drive?”

Danny closed his eyes, his mind flashing to a singular, mundane memory: Alex teaching him how to drive in an empty parking lot, laughing as Danny jerked the brake. Then, the air exploded. A blur of silver and white tore through the underbrush to Danny’s left. It didn't look like a wolf; it looked like a comet of ivory fury. The silver streak slammed into the rogue mid-air with a sound like two freight trains colliding. The impact sent a shockwave of heat and wind that knocked Danny backward off the log.

"Just don't be afraid of me. If it bothers you, don't look." With those words, he seemed to dissolve into a thick stack of black fog. His face peered from the center and took on a horrifying, almost demonic appearance, with glowing red eyes and elongated features made of the same fog. Emily opened her mouth in a silent scream, but the only sound that emerged was an almost inaudible squeak. "Don't look," he commanded, his voice sounding like a haunted howl of wind. "Hold on tight," he instructed as the group barreled through the line of werewolves and into the night.

“That can’t be good.” The foreign object spun around like a spike high on cocaine, popping both front tires at the same time. Danny shouted, “OH SHIT!” as he careened into a ditch. His head bounced off the steering wheel. Instant headache. Unable to go anywhere and as pissed off as he had been in a long time, Danny glared at the mischievous rain, hearing Mother Nature whisper that he was a pride-filled numbskull. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered to the useless wipers whisking left and right, the view of a dark, grassy field ahead.