ByDylan Powell, writer at

Professor E. Gadd helped Luigi clear out King Boo's evil mansion. But in the years before he was faced with that task, he was imbued with another grim objective...

* * *

Hook's lip curled as he eyed them silently. His eyes glared upon them as they mingled about. They wandered throughout the magic kingdom, watching their children closely, laughing fondly with friends and family, others sitting at cafe tables or park benches munching contentedly on cotton candy or buttered popcorn.

Foolish mortals... Hook thought. How innocent they are. How completely unaware of their own awaiting doom lurking within the shadows.

He felt another form approach him, and a soft voice spoke from behind. "James, what do you propose?"

Hook breathed slowly, containing his annoyance. He growled through clenched teeth, refusing to glance over his shoulder. "I've already informed you not to call me James. I'm only to be addressed as Hook; more preferably: Captain. You know of this."

A shuffle of feet from behind him. "My apologies, Captain."

"What brings your presence here, Mr. Frollo?"

"I came to inform you that we are almost ready to move."

Hook turned around, and faced his deputy: Claude Frollo, with his greasy mop of iron grey hair slicked back as it always was when he lived; his pure black eyes glittering like obsidian rock. "You have recruited Scar, yes?" Hook asked. "Ursula? Stromboli? Lucifer? Jafar and Gaston?"

Claude nodded.

Hook continued. "The Queen of Hearts? Maleficent? Ms. de Vill? The Headless Horseman? Monstro?"

Claude nodded again. "All accounted for, Captain. I was also able to hail Shan Yu and Clayton to our cause."

"Well done, Mr. Frollo. We will not set foot in that theme park until Fantasmic plays when the clock strikes 9:00. Have them prepared, but do not give the order until I command you to."

Claude bowed quickly, and without a word, shuffled back out of the room.

Hook watched until the door closed behind him, then turned back around, gazing through the dust covered glass of the third story window. He felt the window sill with his one hand, running his fingers along its withered, cracked surface, his silver hook hanging by side. The Haunted Mansion, he thought. The world famous Haunted Mansion. A perfect gathering point for the ghosts of Disney villains to take their revenge. He looked at the humans below. Those disgusting tourists who encouraged our deaths depicted in those old Walt films will be sorry that they cheered as our souls were diminished beneath the hero's hand.

He turned from the window, and was about to rally the spirits, when suddenly, he stopped. A new thought halted his mind, and his fingers stroked his perfectly trimmed mustache thoughtfully. There is one thing I fear, however, he thought. There is one living being who can stand against our cause. His history proves it. He pushed his sudden worries to the back of his mind. Bah! He would not dare come here. Not with such a substantial ghostly uprising. Our numbers are two many. He cannot defeat us.

* * *

As the day passed on, the spirits became more and more restless. Hook visited them once in a while on the second floor of the mansion, where each room was assigned to two ghosts to bunk in, while they awaited the coming of dusk.

Several times Hook returned to the window on the third floor that surveyed a great majority of the park. He looked out over the horizon, a strange feeling coming over him - a small chill that lingered between his shoulder blades. He shook himself slightly, and gazed below at the huge line of guests awaiting to enter the mansion. The bottom level had apparently been turned into an amusing, fun ride for their own pleasure and excitement. Hook smirked to himself, his ghostly form transparent in the faded sunlight that filtered through the window. Fools...

Finally, dusk came.

Ever so slowly, dark shadows began to creep over the park like long talons grasping for prey. The sun began to disappear into the west, and Hook heard the old grandfather clock down the hallway strike 7:00, it's long chimes ringing through the third floor. Hook breathed outward, and stood from where he sat in his overstuffed chair. He looked into the old mirror that lay on the dresser, and straightened his vivid, scarlet robes, adjusting the florescent red hat upon his crown. He unsheathed his rapier, gazing fondly upon the glimmering, silver blade that reflected the feeble afternoon light outside. It is time.

* * *

As Hook entered the second floor, he noticed the spirits beginning to disperse from their rooms. The door behind him opened, and out lumbered a tall, grey man, shrouded in brown robes, his great yellow eyes like two gleaming spotlights in the dim hallway. The blue flames that made up his hair glowed unnaturally bright now, as if his desire for revenge were growing with each heartbeat.

Hook nodded to him. "Hades, control yourself. The time is not now."

Hades gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, do not worry Captain. Though I am eagerly anticipating tonight when we finally get to show these puny humans what we are capable of, I know how to contain my fire."

"Good man," Hook said. He called around the rooms. "Smee! Where are you, you worthless toad?"

One of the doors opened, and out stumbled his small, plump servant, his red cap flopping lopsidedly around his eyes. He nervously pushed his half-moon glasses back into place on the bridge of his nose, and came to rest before Hook's feet. "Y-y-yes sir?" he asked.

"Accompany Mr. Frollo in rallying the ghosts," Hook hissed. "We must be on top of schedule to launch the attack at nightfall."

Smee stood at attention, his upper lip twitching. "Y-yes, sir! Yes sir!" He turned and quickly scurried away in search of Claude.

Hook walked to another window that overlooked one of the second floor balconies. His gaze rested on the spot where the attack must take place: Tom Sawyer's Island - a small piece of land that lay across a tiny moat where Fantasmic would be held to please the tourists. He turned in time to see Claude and Smee exit one of the rooms, and walk down the hallway. He called to them, "the ghosts better be ready by 8:00. We make for the island at 8:15."

* * *

The sun slowly made its decent over the horizon.

Through the hour, Hook and Claude slowly transported the ghosts across the Rivers of America, and onto Tom Sawyers island, the same time the Disneyland employees began shooing people back across the water, back into the theme park in preparation for the showing of Fantasmic. The island began to grow quiet as the tourists' numbers grew thinner and thinner.

Finally, there were no more. Now only the employees scurried about, readying themselves for the show.

Hook gathered his crew of ruthless spirits on one the cliff tops of the island that overlooked the park across the water.

They snarled and hissed, bumping each other and belching loudly, the light of battle in their eyes stronger than flame of the lamps lighting the way for the guests in the park.

Hook allowed his army to frolic and roughhouse for a few moments, before raising his hands to quiet them down. "Now, my brothers and sisters..." he said calmly. "It is time for us to spread our vengeance upon the ones who blessed the heroes as they took our lives, and watched with satisfaction as we were thrown into the abyss. That era has come to an end. It is time for us to rise again, to show the mortals of today what we know, and what we can do. It is time for this world to know the power of the Disney ghost!!"

The spirits roared in approval, Hades erupting in flames, Clayton drawing his saber, Jafar readying his staff, his eyes blood red.

Thankfully, they chose when they wanted to be seen or heard. Now of course was not the time.

Hook turned. "Let us wait until the show begins, and the entire park has the attention of the island. That is when we will launch our supreme, ghostly power upon these foolish, small-minded tourists."

* * *

It didn't take long.

As the sun set, and the park was slowly plunged into darkness, Hook approached the edge of the cliff and peered over the side, his eyes widening as he spotted hundreds of spectators now, sitting and standing at the edge of the Rivers of America, eagerly awaiting the show's beginning.

And that's when he heard the music. Quiet at first, but slowly building, its tune growing stronger and stronger. Then a voice spoke over the intercom, speaking of the wonders of Fantasmic, and what vivid worlds of imagination the tourists are about to experience.

Hook smirked to himself. "Quite an experience they most definitely shall receive." He turned around to face his legion. "Be ready, my friends," he hissed. "It is almost time. Wait for my command."

The lights began to shine as two giant posts rose from the island, multiple spotlights dancing around their middles, illuminating the guests' surveillance spot. The music grew louder. The crowd awwed quietly. And then suddenly, in a burst of light, the one and only, world famous, Mickey Mouse appeared on the stage of the island, illuminated by several spotlights.

Hook turned. "Not yet. Not yet."

The mouse walked to the edge of the island as the music grew even louder, and then in an almighty buildup of trumpets and violins, he threw his arms in the air, and a shower of sparks rained down, and the music blared to its utmost pitch, and Mickey began dancing on the stage as the crowd roared in applause.

Hook flung his hand forward, and his form suddenly became visible to mortal eyes. "NOW!"

With a terrific cry of battle, the spirits poured from their hiding place, raining down upon the island, their eyes ablaze, their weapons rattling.

Mickey turned, seeing the invades flood the island, standing there for a moment as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and then ran into one of the employee exit doors.

"Spread yourselves wide!" Hook cried. "Show them who we are!"

The spirits fanned on in a giant semicircle, hovering in mid-air over the Rivers of America, and as Hook drew his rapier and looked down, he expected to see the guests writhing in terror, scrambling in fear and confusion.

What he saw, were hundreds of guests cheering and applauding, pointing up at them in awe and delight.

Hook straightened up in confusion, but his shock was quickly replaced by anger. "You foolish people! I am your new ruler!" he roared. "I plan to take over this retched theme park and claim it for myself, but first, I command you all to kneel before me and beg for your own mercy!" He raised his sword threateningly.

Instead the guests applauded louder, many whistling with approval.

Hook lowered his sword in rage. "Very well... You ask for your own doom and destruction? Captain James Hook shall give it to you." He raised his sword ready to plunge into the crowd, when Claude suddenly tapped him on the shoulder. "Uhh... boss?" he said.

"What is it, you idiot!?" Hook snapped.

Claude said not a word, but gazed up at the top of the Matterhorn in the distance, its snowy peak towering above the entire park.

Hook followed his gaze, and his arm went slack. He could just barely see it, for it was so far away, but sliding from the cables that were attached to the mountain's summit, was a small figure in white robes.

One by one, the other spirits turned to look.

As it drew closer, Hook's stomach turned to jelly. His arms grew heavy. He stared at the white robed figure as it came closer, and saw the tuft of white hair sprouting from an almost bald head, the spiraling spectacles resting on a withered nose, the one tooth seen from a grinning mouth, and the blood red Poltergeist 3000 hooked to the old man's back.

"RUN!" Hook screamed. "It's Elven Gadd! And he's got his vacuum cleaner!!"

The spirits looked and screamed in recognition and fear, as Professor E. Gadd approached at lighting speed, sliding across the cable wires, and as he drew close to the island, he dropped into one of the nearby trees. Leaping out of the branches, he pulled out a great spot light and pointed the beam their way.

Hook turned and saw Clayton's form captured in the beam of light, frozen within its ray. E. Gadd turned up the power on his machine, and Clayton disappeared before Hook's eyes, the ghost of the Jolly Rodger watching helplessly as his friend's spirit was sucked into the vacuum.

Hook flew around barking orders at his comrades, urging them to fly away, but they seemed disoriented, and unsure where to go. Chaos was happening all around. One by one the spirits of the Disney villains were pulled forth into the hellish domain inside the Professor's machine. E. Gadd stood on the edge of the spectator spot, taking out spirits one after the other.

Hook's eyes locked on the old man, and unspeakable rage bloomed inside his gut. He drew his sword, and screamed in fury, streaking for E. Gadd.

The Professor turned, seeing Hook approach, and pointed his beam of light right on him. Hook stopped mid-flight, and all his senses deteriorated. The beam seemed to be holding him within the depths of his own mind, his only knowledge of the situation was of the fact that he was about to be extinguished.

E. Gadd turned on his vacuum, and Hook knew nothing more, his last sights and hearings before his spirit was swept away, were of the Disneyland guests, standing up in their seats, roaring with approval, begging for an encore.

And then darkness...


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