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heyheyitsstillgay · 5 years

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Inhuman Changes

Phandom Phic Phight Entry #4 striking back with a prompt by @marshmallowmayhem - Danny realises that the more he uses his ghost powers the less human he becomes.

#TeamGhost team leader @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter

Previous Entry ; Also available on FFN

Words: 1,494; Status: Complete

Mystified by the reflection staring back at him, Danny tentatively runs his fingers through the hair behind his ear and does his best not to hyperventilate. He’s doing well actually, surprisingly well. His breaths are slow and somehow also shallow. The ghostly teen tries not to think too hard about what that means.

When did this start anyway? How had he not even noticed until now? The changes must have been oh so small, so gradual. He hadn’t had a second thought about it until now. Looking back, he can start to see them building up, his tongue feels heavy.

His parents were often busy when he was younger and Jazz was kind of an annoying know-it-all, well, that’s still true. Point is, he had always been a quiet child when he wasn’t around his friends. At some point more recently though, he’d started getting even quieter. It was a conscious choice at first, he kept slipping into ghost-speak accidentally and had thought that just not talking all together was probably safer. He started gesturing more to compensate. He doubted anyone at Casper noticed, the teens had no reason to give him a second glance and he wasn’t going to give them one.

His reluctance to use language altered the ways he expressed himself though. One day, Dash knocked Tucker’s PDA out of the boy’s hand, smashing the screen. Ordinarily, Danny would’ve defended his best friend and offered comforting words. He thought he’d simply glared at the blond in response. Sam laughed at him later on, fully convinced that she had heard him hissing at the bully.

He overheard the A-listers talking another time, about how Fenton was creeping them out again. Apparently he’d been stock still and staring at them with “stupidly wide, bright, curious eyes” during class. He’d just quirked a doubtful eyebrow and moved on. His gaze had been unmoving, they’d said, he was probably just daydreaming or had fallen asleep with his eyes open. He didn’t think he had accidentally caused them to have an ominous glow. What was their problem?

One night he’d had a nasty run-in with Nocturne. He wasn’t scared though, not that there’d be anything wrong with it if he was, but he was fine. The ghost boy was half asleep when he got back to Fenton works. Drowsily following the neon lights to home, he’d ended up phasing through Jazz’s window instead. His sister was already sleeping, because, y'know, she has her life together. Her bed was absolutely strewn with pillows, all different sizes and textures. Who even needs that many? At the time though, it looked so cosy. His bed was so far away and would be so cold in comparison. He always had a chill catch up to his human form whenever he used his ice powers.

Jazz was always telling him she was there for him. Surely, she wouldn’t mind if he just- the blankets looked so fuzzy and there was plenty of room for him. Maybe he could guard her? Make sure she didn’t die suddenly in the night?

Ever since he’d taken to fighting ghosts, he never got as much sleep as he’d like. He’d always end up napping at his desk at midday when the sun fluttered through the classroom windows and made the wood so comfortably warm. So, maybe he had curled up into a ball amongst his sister’s pillows one night. She didn’t mind. Told him she’s happy for him to do so in future. She foolishly said he looked cute the next morning, which lead to him denying it had ever happened or would ever happen again. He huffed. He’s not a baby and he’s not cute. Stupid big sister.

The Fentons were always inventing new things. Usually they’d confine it to the lab but whenever that room overflowed with their junk they’d end up moving to the kitchen. It had happened again a week or so ago. Danny went into the kitchen for a snack and saw some giant metallic… thing gently and ornately laid out on the table. The kitchen was deserted of life, still, the ghost boy remained cautious as he padded over to it. He didn’t recognise the invention. Part of the device was hovering just over the edge of the table. It looked shiny and had this incredibly distinctive aura that almost yelled “Do Not Touch”. What else is a halfa to do? It felt like his hand was moving on its own, approaching the other end of the device. Danny wasn’t breathing. Eyes wide, shifting rapidly between the contraption and the door to the lab. His ears rang in the silence, which he ended by letting loose a low growl. A crash sounded throughout the house as the Fenton turned tail and ran from the destruction he had caused. Don’t have to learn what new ghost hunting tech does if gravity smashes it before it can be used on you.

Yesterday was when he first noticed a physical change in himself. His fingernails had seemed longer and sharper. He didn’t think twice about it, though. Everyone’s nails grow, it didn’t even cross his mind that his specifically were more claw like. That is, not until a zombie-like spirit lurched through the floor in the changing room. It somehow surpassed his ghost sense, maybe it was too dead, or so un-dead that it wasn’t dead enough to activate it. Either way he reflexively found himself on Tuckers back, his claw like fingers tore through the human’s gym shirt. The halfa paid it no notice, too busy glaring a hole into the ceiling the spectre had phased through, from his perch behind his friend’s shoulder. Noise bubbled in his throat, daring the spirit to come back and try that again. In the end, he had to have his attention broken and be coaxed down from his spot, to the hilarity of everyone else in the room.

Now here he is. Back at school. Wearing a beanie in April, in hopes of hiding one of the new inhuman differences in his appearance that he found in a mirror that morning. Jaw clenching, he heads to his locker to meet his friends.

“Nice hat.” Sam snorts when she catches sight of him, Tucker turns and holds in a confused giggle at the sight of Danny’s deadpan face. “Cold getting to ya, ghost boy?”

In response Danny just leans against the lockers, crossing his arms and pointedly keeping his head down. Sam and Tucker share a look.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He raises a fist to his mouth, keeping his fingers tucked in and out of sight.

“I’m really worried guys.” He sighs and continues, “a-about how human I am.” He mumbles into his hand.

Sam scans the area and tentatively takes a step towards him, slowly moving his hat upwards until she can see what he’s covering.

“Oh wow.”

“Can I touch it?” Tucker voices from behind her.

“What? No.” Danny bats Sam’s hand away with the one he was using to hide his mouth.

“Wait. No way.” The goth whispers in awe as she reaches back towards his face. Danny simply leans away from her fingers while Tucker flanks his other side. “That’s not fair! How come you got to grow fangs before I did?”

“Sam.” Danny grinds out, “shut u- Hey! I said you couldn’t touch them.” He slaps his hands over his ears as Tucker rubs his fingers in disbelief.

“Oh my god, they’re real. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know! I just, woke up like this.” He finishes in a hushed voice.

“You just woke up with pointed ears and fangs? Did a vampire bite you in the night?”

“Uh, I sure hope not. I’m dead enough thanks. Are vampires even real?”

Sam shrugs, “Ghosts are. Vlad is.”

Grabbing the edge of his beanie, Danny slowly pulled it over his whole face with a groan. When he speaks it’s muffled again.

“People are gonna start noticing that… I’m becoming less human.”

“Yeah, we thought so too, to be honest.” Tucker quirks a smile and lifts part of his jumper to show off the grazes on his back. “I wouldn’t worry about it though,” the teen continues, “people love cats.”

“That’s not funny.” He deadpans, lifting his beanie to glare at both of his friends for their traitorous laughter.

“D'aww, it’s okay.” Sam draws out the last word, bringing her fingers behind the boys ear to scratch at them.

He pouts at her, looking ready to spend the day sulking. A sound stirs from his chest causing the trio to freeze.

“Did you just purr?” Tucker asks.

“What the- no. That was my core. Oh, sue me. I’m content. Please just shut it.” They were quiet for a moment before he continues, “That doesn’t mean you have to stop…”

Sam grins and resumes petting the other-worldly boy. Leaning into her touch, his eyes flutter shut as he purrs again.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #phic phight 2019 #teamghost #own post #owly writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #ficlet #it looks like angst but it isn't really! for once lmao

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heyheyitsstillgay · 5 years

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Respect the Dead

Phandom Phic Phight Entry #2 based on a prompt from @whosvladagain

#TeamGhost team leader @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter

Previous Entry ; Also available on FFN ; Next Entry

Words: 3,635; Status: Complete

TW: Panic, Vomit mention, themes of death.

Okay, he looks significantly less friendly than Wulf. Though, perhaps a tad nicer than Cujo's angry form. Maybe Danny can calm him down, slowly lead him somewhere safer. Coax him away from Casper High, without getting into a fight that promises to be filled with sharp teeth and claw marks. Clockwork forbid the school bell goes off when a ghost wolf who clearly has a lot of pent up anger is stalking the halls not far from the gym.

"Easy, boy." Phantom mutters, hand stretched in front of him in what he hopes is a non-threatening manner. When he first tried to aim the thermos at him the ghost-wolf lashed out. Danny's unsure if the animal knows what the thermos can do, or is aware it's a threat, or perhaps is confusing the metallic contraption for a gun. Either way the ghost boy is too close to the animal right now to try anything like that again without getting his glove bitten off. Sure, his Hazmat got ruined all the time, he's slightly more concerned about the hand residing in the glove though. It would be nice to return to class in one piece rather than partially digested by a wolf or exposed to some kind of spectral rabies. Maybe? Do ghosts have rabies? Okay, we'll be wondering if bacteria has the possibility for an ecto afterlife when we're in a slightly less half-life threatening situation, perhaps.

Danny keeps his knees bent and his stance wide to improve his balance and increase his reaction time whilst still making himself smaller in hopes of appearing less threatening. He moves around the spirit in a circle, not wanting to risk getting any closer. Maybe if he can find a blind spot he can shoot the thermos from there. He's hesitant to put distance between them. Surely the last thing to do when faced with a growling wild animal, is give chase. Would the animal freak if he floated or phased? Was hiding in the air vents a really idiotic plan?

Given the direction he was walking he was about to hit a wall, or rather go through it and into the boys locker room. If he left the wolf's line of sight he had no doubt it would bolt after him. After all, Phantom's the only person the wolf has seen here, if he's going to try to hunt anyone down then it's him. Class is still in session so there's no humans nearby enough for the wolf to go after.

There is a door to the boys locker room which would make entry less hazardous than phasing, he thinks. Going through that entrance however would require moving closer to the beast, which isn't going to happen.

Side hitting the wall, he phases through. From within the plasterboard he kicks upwards into the ceiling as he hears the crash of the animal splintering the wooden door open. Great. More property damage. He floats into the air ducts and regains his solidity. For some reason the crashing sound hasn't stopped. The wolf is yelping, growling, whimpering, the clattering going on sounds almost metallic as it echoes through the vents. Danny tentatively places his fingers onto the walls around him. Tail rippling as he meanders forward, slowly, towards the light leaking in from below, the grates of the vent. If he can aim the thermos through it unnoticed, then that's this confrontation solved.

"Damn it! Pesky mutt!" Danny freezes as a deep voice reverberates from below. "Where did he go?!" It growls as a sickening splat cuts through all other sounds of chaos. Danny's habit of breathing stops as he remains as still as he can. That sound… that wasn't good.

The smell of copper and formaldehyde bites at his nose hairs and he almost chokes. He can taste it at the back of his throat against the rising acid. Ectoplasm.

That wasn't all, Skulker is down there. Quiet settling over them that yelled louder in his ears than anything previously from that room.

The wolf was gone. Must have been. Scent alone told him that much. Smoky as though it's very ectoplasm had been grilled. He knew the smell of destabilisation. Skulker swore. Why could Danny smell pine needles now? And fresh grass? Why did that make the urge to vomit even harder to suppress?

He doesn't want to see, doesn't want to know. Unbidden, his body floats forward without him telling it to. He reaches the grate, can finally see the state of the locker room below him. Pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks, his throat closes at the sight.

Skulker isn't looking at him, fortunately, though it's clear the hunter can sense his prey is still nearby. The wolf, the bait, Danny realises, is barely recognisable. It's clear where it happened, a glowing blue net loose against the wall next to the door. With his enhanced hearing, Phantom can hear the net humming faintly. Was it, supposed to do this? The halfa wonders to himself.

Chunks of green lie below the net, barely touching it. Ectoplasm was usually viscous, think cornstarch in water, able to change between thin liquid and liquid thick enough to stand on its own. The chunks down there looked more like raw lime jello. With lines of black from where it had clearly made contact with the net. Dark smoke continued to rise from it in wisps. None of the discernibly wolf features remained. A light in the pile, a natural forest green compared to the now dark rotting green of the rest, it glowed like a flickering light. Something was oozing from it, but it wasn't ectoplasm, it was something deeper, more important, vital. It evaporated into mist immediately after contact with the air. The wolf's core had ruptured, cracked, shattering, it was bleeding out right in front of them and neither of the ghosts were trying to do anything about it. There wasn't anything they could do. An involuntary shiver wracks Danny's body as another wave of tree bark and pine passes over him.

They shouldn't be so close, this is so incredibly personal. No one should be looking at this, no one should be smelling this. But the animal died with them. It shouldn't be alone for this. It's too much, a new level of suffering and death that no spirit should ever have to go through. It's essence and soul is clinging to the scents in the air around them. Phantom and Skulker are the only people who can accept it, so they must.

It takes another fourteen minutes for the glow to leave the core and the smell around them to disperse. After which time, Skulker lowers his head. Placing a hand against his chest plate, the hunter mumbles an apology in ghost speak before he turns tail and leaves the room through the wall. This was hardly a situation to continue the hunt, so he doesn't.

Danny didn't like toast already, why the hell would Skulker have a ghost toaster? It was barbaric. Intentional core damage was very taboo, by everyone's standards, not just Walker's. The ghost boy moves through the vent and descends until he drops onto the floor by his toes. Neither of them have moved the net or disturbed the remains. Regular ectoplasm would evaporate naturally over time, he hopes that's able to happen now. He feels a slight territorial growl at the thought of any humans interfering with the animal husk. Glaring at the splintered door, he drags a bench in front of it. Stepping back with his head at a tilt, he uses his ghostly strength to stack another bench on top of it, in hopes that the humans would get the message. Stay Out. Sighing to himself, he mumbles a "good luck" in ghost speak before turning and leaving via the wall.

"Oh good grief." Ms Tetslaff grumbles as she passes the boys locker room on her way to the gym. She doesn't care who did it but if she does find out who then they're in for one hell of a kickboxing match. She slams her fist into her other palm and cracks her knuckles. How could someone cause chaos like this on tonight of all nights!? They needed to have the gym looking it's best! If she discovers even a hint of disturbance in that room too, she just might lose it.

The gym is fine, thankfully. Principal Ishiyama is in there with Mr Falluca, discussing the layout for the room. Tonight was supposed to be prom night, they had around 5 hours to decorate before students were meant to be arriving. Laraine calms herself and marches over to the folded tables to set them up along the wall.

"An Inspector Calls! Laraine!" Edward Lancer poked his head through the doors to the gym, exasperated. "Could you lend us a hand please? It seems that door has been barricaded from the inside, as well as broken into pieces!" Mrs Tetslaff nods and sets down the table she was carrying.

Ghosts then? She huffs. At least that means the students will live to see another day, unless the culprit is still inside. In which case they won't be having anything to do with tonight's celebrations if she gets a say in it. She punches her arm through the wide crack in the wood and grasps tightly onto the edge of whatever's blocking it beneath. Bracing her shoulders against the door, she flicks her wrist and shoves against it. They all hear the clatter of the barrier as she steps back and slams against the door again. This time it gives, they force through into the room.

Mrs Tetslaff's eyes dart around the mess. Yep, definitely ghosts. Wheeling his cleaning cart next to her, the long suffering janitor heaves a huge sigh and grumbles to himself. She shoots him a sympathising look before returning to the gym with Edward.

In the past, proms at Casper had always had themes; Medieval times, Fantasy, 70's night. Some genius on the PTA decided this year's should have a supernatural theme. Oh the hilarity. Some adults were in one corner blowing up black balloons and preparing to decorate the walls with the Halloween supplies, while the librarian and Mr Falluca seemed to have had the idea of putting an orange feather boa on the skeleton from the biology department. As if that could only ever end well. Mrs Tetslaff finished setting the tables up, lined with black plastic table cloths, ready for punch, nibbles and candy.

"Oh for- The Legend of Sleepy Hollow!" Laraine marches over to the exasperated English teacher.

"Whatever is it now, Edward?" The man was reaching the end of his tether and responds only by shoving the Halloween bunting into her hands.

"Ah." Or rather, the remains of the Halloween bunting. Disintegration appears to have occurred while it was in the box. Although, upon closer inspection, the plastic maintains an unnatural cold and there are faint scorch marks at the edge of the ribbons. Ghosts, again. So they were going to have a prom in a room with a skeleton and a lot of black balloons, seems more like a particularly gothic funeral than a celebration for teenagers.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Mr Lancer sighed, picking through the box and watching it all turn to dust at his fingertips.

"Quit mopin'," she began, "I'm sure we'll think of something. I'll head to the shops and see if there's anything I can find."

"But it's the middle of May?!" He exclaimed, she simply levelled him a glare and stepped towards the gym doors with heavy feet.

On her way out when she crossed paths with the janitor, something in particular catches her eye. She does a double take, taps the elderly man on the shoulder and points towards the object in question.

"Can I borrow this?" She asks, "I might just have had a really good idea." She remembers the art teacher is stood just a room away, he is going to love this.

The trio had left for prom a tad early, expecting to be caught up in ghost attacks and ending up fashionably late. None of them want to inconvenience any dates so they've decided to go together as friends, just in case. If somehow no ghosts attack and Tucker ends up meeting someone he likes while they're there, then good for him. Danny and Sam will just have to despair at his absence. As if they don't have the pleasure of seeing him everyday.

For once in their lives, however, Amity was actually being pretty quiet tonight. The trio are left to their own excitement for the upcoming party. Tucker is smiling gleefully, pride rolling from his shoulders over his hand-made costume.

"I say we have a contest tonight, see how many girls Danny Phantom can get, versus how many girls the far superior, younger, fresher, finer, Tucker Phantom can get?" He brushes his fingers through his white anime wig and glances over to his friend.

While said friend is undeniably Danny Phantom, at this time he's just Danny Fenton, black hair, red trainers and blue jeans. The only difference being his shirt, while still white, this shirt has black text that reads 'Nobody knows I'm dead.'

"Or you can spend tonight enjoying yourself in ways that don't involve pressuring someone into showing you affection." Sam rolls her eyes playfully at her friend.

"You're just jealous that you couldn't put together a cool ghost cosplay in time!"

"Um- you think I'm a cool ghost?" Danny cracked a smile.

"Hell yeah man, you're friends with me aren't you? That alone makes you the coolest, never mind the awesome super powers and the teen idolisation." The halfa just shakes his head and feels his cheeks heat in response.

"For the record," Sam spoke up "I don't feel the need to dress up as a ghost, not to infringe on or appropriate the culture of spirits or anything, but I'm dead inside all the time anyway. I can be a creature of the night any old day of the week." she stated with pride. It's not like she isn't making an effort, this year she has a black gothic dress with green and gold detailing, no one questions how she is able to speak so clearly with those fangs in her mouth again.

"Speaking of effort," Tucker redirects his attention, "Hey Danny, what happened to cutting some holes in a bed sheet and layering them over that outfit? You know no one's going to get that t-shirt, right?"

"Firstly, you've met my dad. In what universe is it safe to walk within 9 yards of him with a bed sheet over your head, regardless of species. Secondly, you guys get the t-shirt and I'm not wearing it for any one else, I'm wearing it for me because it is hecking hilarious. I paid good money for this online okay? You can't take this away from me, I won't let you." He pouted exaggeratedly at Tucker while the teen giggled at the imagery of Jack Fenton single handedly destroying a whole bed section of a store.

Turning into Casper High, Sam's heels click against the concrete as they walk towards the back entrance to the gym. An aged looking banner adorns the entryway, the double doors are closed. Nearby stood the ticket stand, the line for which is considerably short, though it makes sense considering how early in the night it is.

The trio slow their pace as they near the queue. A slight chill is in the air, Sam folds her arms into her torso, Tucker's jaw clenches, something like liquid nitrogen tries to crawl up Danny's throat. It's not too unusual, it's early evening but more notably - they live in a ghost town. Usually there's plenty of cold spots dotted around the place, even more so when the halfas are around, which is why he's not particularly off put. That is, until the couple at the front of the queue head inside, the moment the door cracks open.

A sense of foreboding increases tenfold. The first thing that hits him is the smell. It's odd but his head still snaps up and his breathing slows instinctively. He's not sure why it has his attention. It reminds of cheap watered down bleach, or the stuff he uses to clean his parents lab when there's been a particularly bad explosion that demands his attention. It looks fairly dark inside, but there's an unpromising quality to it, a light glow that resonates within him. Eyebrows creasing, Danny remains silent as the three teens take a few steps forwards in line.

Eye contact is maintained with the door the whole wait. If Sam and Tucker notice his examining gaze then they don't comment on it. Next time the door opens it has his full attention. The room, it almost has an aura of its own. His core doesn't poke towards it in curiosity like it would a ghost and obviously his ghost sense hasn't gone off, so what's going on? Maybe there's some kind of giant ghostly relic that's somehow found its way into his school gym. Okay, that sounds stupid. They're almost in anyway, he'll see what's happening for himself then.

When they reach the table the ghost boy doesn't spare a glance for whoever's manning the stall. He simply slams his money down and marches over to the door, arms outstretched. With a tug of the handle he drags the door wide open.

The lights are off, but it's not pitch black. The walls are covered with something that he's certain everyone else here is under the delusion of being glow in the dark paint. It forms shapes that dance across the walls, little characters whose faces are mock attempts of scary, but it's not the smiles that are sinister. His friends are at his side as the realisation settles further. That is not glow in the dark paint.

Yes, it smelt like his parents basement. Ectoplasm mixed with disinfectant. He recognises the smell now there isn't a barrier in the way. His pupils faded from his eyes as realisation dawned, exactly where this ectoplasm was from, who this ectoplasm was from. Green is all he can see, it's swarming his senses, filling his oesophagus, thrashing against his sides.

No, that wasn't the ectoplasm. People had their hands on him, grabbing him, holding him, trying to drag him one way or another. It feels like he's drowning but his mouth is dry, his chest is constricting. Faintly, a part of him is surprised that his soul hasn't left his body yet. His core is flaring, trying to reach out.

He wants to hunt down whoever is responsible, wants to hurt them. Wants to rip the building down by shaping the ectoplasm in his fingers into claws, wants to chase everyone away and carefully peel the remains from the walls and find somewhere safer to put them. Idiot. Leaving someone's final remains in a public school. What were Skulker and himself expecting from humans?

Woah, back up. Stop. He could calm down from this. Blinking, his eyes burn with un-shed tears. He grips the grass between his fingers until his knuckles turned white. He releases a shaky breath and takes another one. Regaining his bearings, it registers that he's sat in the grass a little away from the building but still on school grounds. His head feels too heavy for his neck to hold, so he drops it. Facing down towards his knees, he clasps his eyes shut and focuses on evening his breathing to that of a regular human being. He shoves down the panic that rises as his vision is clouded by eyelids that carry a faint green tinge. His throat feels red raw now that the numbness is leaving his body, like someone had forced him to swallow acid. He hadn't vomited had he? He cracks his eyes open to check his surroundings. Tucker is sat next to him, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder but hesitant to actually touch him. The techno-geek looks startled, the thumb of his left hand moving swiftly across his PDA as his eyes scan the text. Sam isn't nearby. She's a distance away, closer to the gym than she is to him, waving her hands frantically in the face of one of the chaperones.

Danny rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes and fully raises his head. The movement draws a flinch out of his best friend whose head snaps up to check over him with wide eyes.

"You okay, man?" The boy asks, voice soft and steady, "Blood Blossoms gone?" "Blood Blossoms?" the halfa croaks, hand clutching at his throat in a vain attempt to fix the cracks. "Yeah, it looked pretty bad. I couldn't see the red lightning like last time though. I was trying to check if there was some other subspecies with slightly different properties, we couldn't see the circle anywhere either. You seemed kind of… mad when we tried to get you away but you started to calm down after a minute or so, so like…" He trails off and smiles reassuringly, Danny pretends not to notice the dark circle beginning to blossom on his friend's jaw or the feeling of drying red blood cracking beneath his own fingernails. The trembling across his form is dying down as he shakes his head slowly. "That wasn't-" His voice creaks and he tries again "wasn't Blood Blossoms. Th-they, um…" biting his cheek to centre himself, he swears, it comes out as a shaky whisper.

"What kind of awful, terrifying creature, lines their walls with the blood and broken soul of the dead and gone?"

Based on WhosVladAgain’s Prompt: They're doing prom decorations and ran out of glow in the dark paint; luckily ectoplasm does too…

#panic //#emetophobia //#death //#its like a minor ghost character its fine #i just saw this prompt and was like 'im sorry how is that not ominous as hell??'#phic phight #phic phight 19 #phic phight 2019 #own post #owly writes #teamghost #danny phantom #danny fenton #((the net was supposed to get hot enough to make a halfa transform back into human form))#ficlet

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