
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8439442.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gravity_Falls, Danny_Phantom
  Character:
      The_Author_|_Original_Stanford_Pines, Danny_Fenton
  Additional Tags:
      Gore, Vivisection, Ghost_Form, Dark_Ford, Science, handjob, I_used_all
      the_available_warnings_there_were, Should_tell_you_something
  Series:
      Part 1 of Gore,_Grime_and_Grimdark
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-01 Words: 2041
****** Soundless Screams ******
by Sin_with_a_Grin
Summary
     Stanford Pines is a scientist. Danny Phantom is a little punk that
     doesn't know to quit when he's ahead. When the halfa can't explain,
     the trigger happy scientist assumes he's a threat and kicks ass
     first. There will be no questions later. The following horrific scene
     mirrors several phandom theories about what would happen if someone
     who hated ghosts got ahold of our favorite apparition.
Notes
     In honor of Halloween, I have written a DP/GF crossover! The tags
     should be quite clear. There is no light version!
     This AU-esque version of Danny is psychologically mute; perhaps from
     a young age.
See the end of the work for more notes
October 31, 2016
Despite my rigorous tests, exhaustive research and unending skepticism, I have
come to the working hypothesis that I do indeed have a ghost in my lab. After
the systematic study of the paranormal for nearly 50 years now, one would think
that I would have outlived the capacity to be shocked by my own conclusions; It
would seem that is not the case.

Subject is in his teens, mute, pale, white haired with glowing green eyes. His
pallor suggests that he has indeed died, as does the lack of melanin in his
hair. The body tends to lose the ability to hold color after it dies, and
surely whatever means there are to transfer solid matter into this...
apparition… have no need of color. I have yet to discover how such a thing can
happen.

His abilities are also green in color. He attacked me when I attempted to
capture him, playing with his dinner no doubt in near the falls. I believe this
is the reason for the green eyes. Another myth broken, I think, as most assume
that ‘ghost’ eyes are completely white in color. 
I have ruled out ghoul, zombie, vampire and necromancy as the cause. Though he
has a ‘physical’ presence, he is -clearly- not alive! Nothing living,
benevolent or good came from a creature that could pass through solid matter.
My last test is to determine if he is in fact a ghost, or perhaps some sort of
animated demon, as my former muse was. Bill, too, had the power to pass through
solid matter even after he gained a physical body.
If he survives the dissection, he’s a demon. If not, I will study the resulting
corpse and determine what sort of aberration he is.
Note: I will use the word ‘dissection’ in these proceedings; As I have already
stated, this creature is indeed dead despite his animated attempts to evade
capture and free himself.
Note: Any coincidental data recorded on this day of October during the
observation of ‘Halloween’ is purely coincidental and I pray your indulgence as
I undergo these tests during such a noisy evening. The… other inhabitants in
this building will not allow me to remove the wiring for the doorbell.
Ford turned from his desk to look at the small boy on the ‘operating’ table. A
tray with a host of knives stood still gleaming on the ‘clean’ area and there
was a bin with a collection of green coated and encrusted ‘dirty’ scalpels and
other tools on the other side. The harsh lights made his glasses nearly opaque
as he stood slowly, drumming all 10 phalanges on the table as his thumbs
gripped the underside; an unsettling number of little drum beats against the
harsh, cold metal.  
He adjusted the little lapel mic on his jacket, checked the battery pack on his
waist and the cord that threaded up to the mic - all in place. Good. He wanted
this research, as skeptical and disbelieving as he was, he knew he may never
get another chance. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

“This is Stanford Pines, October 31st, two-zero-one-six Common Era. My personal
lab, Gravity Falls, Oregon. Subject 314, Trial C, Full Dissection. In the
previous trials, I removed parts of of what appears to be some sort of
protective clothing to confirm his sex, check his capillary refill, which was
nil, and to confirm the location of the jugular, brachial, and femoral vessels.
I will begin this trial by removing the entirety of the garment with the
scalpel.”

His dextrous fingers twirled the knife expertly off the tray and the shiny
glint of his glasses vanished as he leaned closer. His eyes were completely
impersonal; the man may as well have been taking apart a car engine for all the
warmth in them! The boy on the table strains already exhausted muscles, the
thin cords showing as tears streak down his face, stopped by the full mask on
his nose and mouth that is pumping a very mild muscle relaxer, a base sedative
and a faint aphrodisiac that the good doctor has been trying out.
Danny’s body is exhausted from fighting the bonds. Ford must have figured out
some kind of containment device (probably for that demon he keeps bitching
about) and used it like a net from a gun, weighted down to the ground. Whatever
electrical energy or … whatever… had coursed through the metallic lines of the
net and had prevented him from shifting out of ghost form to plead with this
terrifying scientist and his creepy ass hands.
Sadly, Danny couldn’t stop thinking about the six-fingered-man from Princess
Bride. It was fucking annoying. Would Tuck avenge him? “Wassup, crust-o-matic,
my name is Tucker Foley. You vivisected my damn boyfriend and I will ROAST yo
ass on bumblr! Sicko!”… Maybe not.
But this wasn’t The Machine and this … creepy ass scientist was actually kinda
smart and he wasn’t sure there was enough magic pills, nor did he know anyone
named Max to give it to him, who could bring him back after being cut into
pieces.

He was jerked from the thoughts as the scalpel came down, lightly cutting at
his skin as the jumpsuit fell away. It made him think of his parents, down in -
their- lab, doing whatever. Maybe, maybe he’d have had a chance to convince his
parents that being a ghost wasn’t such a bad thing, that he was only half
ghost, he was their son for Tesla’s sake but if he told anyone that he’d never
had a nightmare about Jack and Maddie doing just this, he’d be lying.

Another nick brought him to the present. Jeepers, how was he spacing out for
his own death? His entire chest was bare now, deft fingers messing with the
belt. His cheeks burned a sickly green as the ectoplasmic blood rushed there in
a feeble attempt to blush but to his dismay, most of his blood was actually in
his dick. What? WHAT?? HOW was he hard for this?! He was about to die! I mean,
sure he was a bit of a masochist but -  
A cut off breath was the closest he’d come to screaming in a long time as the
scientist nicked the inside of his leg, deeper than the other nicks, deeper
than he’d done to himself. Those fingers felt rougher, less personal now as the
old man droned on and on and on.

“Subject seems to be responsive to the aphrodisiac I’ve been working on; its
effects seem to be universal to all humanoids living and dead. This is the
fifth undead subject it’s been tested on. I’ve tried it also on myself, the 2
males living with me, and a few town members. Results are inconclusive
concerning those that leave my home so I have discontinued un-observable
trials.”

Six fingers trailed up the boy’s thigh, rubbing at his femoral pressure point,
balls and groin with cold, sterile gloves. “I have decided, instead, to test it
on the living things that come into my lab to study it’s effect. This subject
responds almost exactly as a human living male,” Ford said absently as he
wrapped too many long fingers around the younger male’s cock and stroked slowly
from base to tip. His gloves were smeared with green blood and it gushed a
little between the fingers as he squeezed. Danny’s breathy almost-moan
accompanied his hips arching off the table into that hand, an unbelieving and
disgusted face, and finally his head dropping back hard against the metal
table.
“Manual stimulation of the external genitalia seems effective enough to arouse
the subject and elicit a response. I will attempt internal stimulation if time
permits.” He unceremoniously dropped the slim prick against the boy’s stomach
and returned to his knives on the tray. “I will begin by opening the chest
cavity. From my observations, I expect the humanoid characteristics to be
homologous, if not exact to human anatomy; namely, one heart, two lungs,
esophagus and esophageal hiatus. I will begin by clearing away the skin and
muscle.”
He drew the scalpel down Danny’s sternum with the steady hand of a surgeon,
cutting deep enough to scrape bone. The sweep of the knife continued until it
followed the path of the last connected ribs, framing the diaphragm. He put
that sharp in the bin and selected a small drill from a larger counter. Ford
leaned over Danny a little, made an interested noise then straightened, pulling
a mask he’d kept on his face down. He selected another knife as he began to
talk again, gently separating the muscle away from the ribs and securing what
he could as he spoke into the microphone.

“Despite the lack of injury or anatomical mistake, the subject remains mute. I
have several hypothesis as to why; What troubles me is that I have no way to
rate the pain tolerance of the subject. Based on the study of other humanoids,
pain breaks the ability of sentient minds to stay silent. However, unless there
is some anomaly that I have been unable to discover, the subject remains mute.
My current leading theory concerns the process by which this boy became …
whatever he is now. Perhaps it removed his abilities of speech. Conjecture: If
that is the case, and if this study does indeed reveal that the subject is, in
common vernacular, a ghost, this would disprove the myths concerning ‘spooky’
noises and other wailing sounds that people attribute to the paranormal. More
study is needed, surely, but if this theory is proved, it will make for an
interesting paper.”
As he finished speaking he picked up a small drill from the table and it let
out a whirring sound as started it up, stopping once again. “I’m using a common
saw that is used for bone cutting in surgeries. Previously, the subject was
able to become intangible and impervious to my attempts at capture. After
modifying the cuffs on the examination table to mimic the charges i sent
through the net, it would seem I can force him to remain solid. This will prove
invaluable as I continue with these proceedings.”

Danny’s struggles to breathe are becoming more labored and the expression on
his face is slowly dripping away. Those green eyes drift back into his head as
the saw begins whirring loudly and finally, the softest moan of pain slips from
his lips, the voice cracking from disuse and agony. Ford doesn’t even notice
the nearly silent noise over the saw…
Halfas seem to have some semblance of healing abilities or at least the ability
to endure a great deal but this is too much. He’s choking on his own blood now,
head rolling back and lifting a little to watch in horror as Ford uses an odd
metal clamp… not to hold him together, but to pull the halves of his sternum
apart. His vision fades in and out, jerking slightly at the sweeping motions of
the scalpel as knife separates connective tissue from bone and organs. He wants
to shout at the man standing next to him.

Why are you doing this to me?! What did I do to you! Please… I’m only… sixteen.

The scientist has stopped working, staring into the cavity. He raises the face
shield and says into the microphone, “There is no way this creature is human or
ever was human. Oh, perhaps the husk was, but there is definitely a coldness
coming from the core, and a soft blue light is illuminating the tissues inside.
The inner organs appear to be a mixed color between green and blue; according
to the color chart I have on file, this most closely resembles ‘mint.’”
“The light seems to be coming from below the diaphragm; I believe this warrants
following as it might just be what makes this young humanoid tick.”

The world faded to black as the biting pain of the scalpel returned, opening up
his abdominal cavity and the world caved in on him.

Ford jumped back as the cold blast of air rushed out of the ice core, barely
missing his fingers. He babbled rapidly into the microphone as the heart
stuttered thrice, twice… and stopped.
End Notes
     This may or may not be continued? I may do something more with Dark
     Ford in the future? or other heinous things happening to Danny? I
     have a lot of worries about that boy.
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