Goodwill Hunting, Part 1

Sam knew a phantom had very low combat ability, but the one thing they were great at regardless of their form was how they could sap a person’s willpower and cause them to be overcome with negative emotions. Even with his new gifts, Sam was no exception.

He couldn’t move his body despite how hard he struggled. The phantom noticed this quickly, and sensing Sam’s weakness, it began gliding toward him in that creepy way ghosts did in the movies.

Now, a normal person might have just stood there helpless as the phantom drew closer, but Sam was a hero and his Willpower was at a cozy [11]. He also had someone watching his back.

[Wake up, kid! The bastard’s trapped you in a stupid phantom-lock!]

Chiron’s message box popped up in front of him, momentarily blocking the phantom from view.

[You’re not allowed to be afraid of some poser when you’ve gone up against the real deal!]

“I…I know!”

The first step to breaking phantom-lock was to know you were trapped in one. Then you had to regain your calm. Sam’s solution to that second step was a standard breathing exercise taught to teenagers who got panic attacks.

“Deep breaths,” Sam instructed himself. “Inhale…then exhale…”

The phantom was only a few feet away now.

“Inhale and then exhale…”

The phantom’s arm shot forward, its skeletal hand mere inches from Sam’s face.

“Inhale…”

He sent a big gulp of air into his lungs and then let out one last breath right before tightening his grip on Cranium Smasher’s handle. He was just in time too. The phantom’s freakishly long fingers reached out for his neck. The cold it exuded bit at his skin.

“I need a battle cry,” Sam whispered as he swung his hammer forward.

He barely felt the impact when the hammer smashed into the side of the phantom’s face, but the nail-biting scream it let loose afterward told Sam it clearly felt that hit.

The phantom countered with a sideswipe of a half-transparent arm that seemed far more intimidating than a monster’s claw, but Sam ducked to avoid it because he knew that a phantom’s touch had even worse effects than a phantom-lock.

He swung his hammer up and caught the phantom’s skull squarely on the chin, sending it crashing up to the ceiling.

“Holy Zeus”—Sam’s eyes were wide with delight—“my body’s moving exactly how I want it to!”

[What did you think all the daily training was for?]

With confidence filling Sam’s chest, he launched himself up into the air while intending to swing his hammer down on the phantom’s exposed ribcage. Only, just as he was about to strike, Sam felt a stinging chill graze him on the back. He cried out in pain before stumbling toward the floor and falling to his knees.

Grimacing, Sam glanced over his shoulder and discovered that a second phantom had snuck up on him from behind. Even worse, this phantom had long flowing hair flowing behind it like it was floating in a pool of water. He saw the anguish on the feminine features of its ghostly visage and gulped.

“Don’t look at its eyes. Don’t look at its eyes,” Sam repeated, reminding himself not to pull the rookie mistake of getting phantom-locked a second time in less than five minutes. “Just don’t…”

The pain in his back quickly subsided. It was a pleasant surprise considering what he knew of a phantom’s touch.

Sam had heard the stories of how phantom-touch caused the affected part of the body to go numb, weakening muscles and organs to the point that they’d shut down if the malady wasn’t treated right away. It was also a known fact that a phantom-touch on the chest was a death sentence among rookie heroes and sidekicks.

Luckily, Sam’s Regeneration kicked in just in time to dampen its effects, saving him from an untimely and unbelievably foolish death.

Sam didn’t have time to feel relieved, however, as the first phantom just dived to tackle him. He dodged to the side and avoided its outstretched arms, but smacked his right shoulder against the wall instead. The space in that narrow corridor was just that cramped.

“Aw, Styx!” Sam gasped as pain shot up his shoulder. But, once again, Regeneration’s effect quickly stifled the pain. “Nice!”

[You’ve got incoming, kid!]

Chiron’s warning had come a second too late because the ghostly woman had already appeared in front of Sam as if she’d been spit out of the surrounding shadows. In a panic, he quickly balled his left hand into a fist and then launched it into the ghostly woman’s face before she could get her fingers around his neck.

It felt to Sam like he’d just punched an extra-large ice cube, but he gritted his teeth and leaned into the attack while screaming, “I’m really not into hitting women!”

That one punch sent the female phantom flying all the way to the other end of the corridor. And a wide-eyed Sam looked on dumbfounded at the strength he’d just displayed.

[What are you getting all surprised for? I told you, didn’t I? Explosive Training #1 would give you the physical explosiveness of a top-rate hero!]

“Whoa,” Sam was staring down at his fist, “I didn’t know punching a ghost would be so…satisfying.”

[You might want to duck, kid!]

Sam crouched just as the first phantom’s hand stabbed at the air where his head was only a second ago.

“Hey, master!” Sam called as he slipped away from a second swipe of the phantom’s outstretched, wraith-thin hand. “Is this speed and strength power-up just because of the training, or did my increased stats boost me better than I thought they could?”

[It’s a combination of both, kid. Sure, an increase in your attributes is what’s driving your growth, but it’s the training that allows you to capitalize on that growth. Take one out and the other just won’t work. That’s lesson number four, by the way.]

“What’s”—Sam had just dodged a third attack from this very persistent enemy—“lesson number four?”

[It’s constant training! A hero’s only as good as the hours they put into improving themselves. Never skip out on your training, remember the fundamentals, and then keep on training until every action is basically a reflex.]

“You know, that actually makes sense.”

Sam was feeling more confident again, but then he slipped on some broken glass and landed butt-first on the floor just as the phantom lunged for him with outstretched fingers.

[This moment right here is a good example of lesson number five—concentrate! Never lose your focus. The moment you let your guard down and that’s when they get you! Now, dodge!]

It was too late for Sam to dodge. So, instead, he threw Cranium Smasher at the phantom that had just invaded his personal space. The hammer flew straight into the phantom’s chest, slipped into the semi-transparent pound of flesh, and slammed straight into its ribcage. This sudden attack caused the phantom’s form to waver like a bad TV reception.

[You’ve got it on the ropes!]

Sam realized this as well. So, in the time it took Cranium Smasher to fall to the floor, he had jumped to his feet and reached into the phantom’s chest with both hands. Freezing cold seeped into his fingers and up his hands, but Sam just let the pain wash over him because he was determined to finish this enemy here and now.

“Ah~~h! He let out a mighty bellow as adrenaline exploded into his system. “Ares, give me strength!”

While one of his hands held onto a thick part of the phantom’s ribcage, his other hand reached in and latched onto the phantom’s spine. Then, after taking in a deep breath, he pulled the phantom’s spine toward him. To counter Sam’s attack, the phantom’s own fingers grasped onto his neck. It began to choke Sam.

[Hades’ bottom, kid, you’re insane! I love it! Rip that stupid skeleton up!]

Sam could feel the biting cold on the skin of his neck. The pressure on his throat was intense, and it was getting harder to breathe. But, in his mind’s eye, he remembered the pain of getting stabbed in the side by that monstrous terror. He remembered getting smacked so hard he’d crashed onto the icy asphalt. He also remembered that he’d gotten back up right afterward.

“This…isn’t…enough…to…bring…me…down!” Sam hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m not…dying here!”

Sam ripped the phantom’s spine out through its ribcage—a fatal blow that caused the half-psychic creature to crumble into a pile of bones that quickly melted into psychic residue that was carried off into nothingness by a sudden gust of wind.

[Yes!] Chiron yelled enthusiastically. [Now that's what I call entertainment!]