I stood perfectly still; sweat beading along my brow as I concentrated fiercely, my palms pressed flat against the rough brick wall. It wasn't working perhaps if I though back to the first time it happened...

I was sitting on a cold metal chair, my wrists chafing against the hand-cuffs that bound them behind my back. I had tried in vain for several minutes to get at the hair-pin in my pocket, and I was running out of time. The cop would come back into the room soon, and I had no intention of spending another second in a cell. I gave up trying to pick the lock and tugged at the cuffs in frustration. As I did, I felt a rather unusual sensation running down my arms. I thrashed around in fear, trying to get away from the alien feeling in my wrists, when I heard the hand-cuffs clatter to the floor. I stared at many free, unbound wrists in amazement, and then proceeded to pick the lock on the door and ninja my way out of the building.

As I thought back to how I discovered my powers, that same strange feeling returned. It felt as though ice water was running over my hands, so cold it was almost hot. I marvelled as my hands fell through the wall, followed shortly by my arms, then all of me as I stepped into the bank's vault.

Grinning with the heady thrill of success as I was, I failed to notice that the vault door had already been opened. I strode over to the first stack of money I saw and was about to grab it when I heard a cold voice shouting.

"Quit stalling! We know you can open it, and if you don't do it soon I'll fill yousofulloflead we could sharpen your head and call you a pencil!"

I had only a second to marvel at the creativity of his threat before I saw him, as he took a step back to point his gun at the terrified manager.

"I-I can't open that one!" he stammered. "It-it's holding the witness protection files! Only the police have access!"

All right, I thought, time to get out of here! But there was something holding me back. Something that told me I couldn't just let that thug – another one stepped out from behind a cabinet – okay, those thugs, hurt that man. Even though there were two of them. With guns. And muscles. I had the power to do something! It was my responsibility.

Goddamn conscience.

Before I could change my mind and do something non-life threatening, I called the strange feeling back to me and faded into the wall. I moved over to the second goon and, like lightning, put my hand over his mouth and pulled him through the wall. He stood there, outside the bank blinking stupidly as I phased back through the bricks. I guess intelligence wasn't required to point a bug gun threateningly.

Okay, one down.

I moved through the wall until I thought I was behind the first thug, confident that my little trick would work again. It didn't. I jumped out of the wall grabbing at empty space. Then I looked to my left at the thug and the bank manager, both of them staring back at me as though I had appeared from thin air. Well. I suppose I had, technically-

"What the hell!" the thug yelled and, without further ado he started emptying his clip in my general direction (he wasn't the best shot).

I reacted so quickly that it must have been instinct. I felt the sensation of ice water washing over me, and the bullets passed through me as though I were a ghost.

When the thug had emptied the magazine I gathered up all my courage and strength, and threw a punch. It would have connected perfectly, undoubtedly rendering him completely unconscious, that is, if I hadn't been incorporeal. As it was, my fist went through his head and, unbalanced, I fell through him. Luckily, the shock of having someone falling into him must have gotten through to the thugs tiny little brain, and he fainted,

I stood, staring at the manager, and he stared right back at me.

"Who- who are you?" he asked in awe.

"You can call me" umm... "Ghost!" That's not bad.

"That's a stupid name." He said indignantly.

"I- you're a stupid name!" And with that cutting retort, I grabbed a stack of money – surely I deserve a reward for my efforts – and disappeared into the wall. Where the money got stuck, so I had to leave it behind.

The End!

I'd like to credit Blackadder for the amazing 'pencil threat' quote (Season 3 episode 5)