#ghost girl who likes horror gets to be spooky!!!!! living her dream

[splashskitty]

Lore part four.

I have a few more characters to show off that either weren't important in Neriums story specifically or are in their own story and otherwise I will have showed all my characters and I thought that was a good reason to make another lore part I'm sure I'll make more characters so as I do I'll add them to this post so now let's begin.

First off why do they all have flower names I'm dyslexic and I like flowers and it's easier to remember flower names than it is made up ones that's pretty much the only reason.

how I choose a flower for a specific character is I usually Google flowers based on the characters color or personality I choose a flower that reminds me the most of them and name them after it or I find a cool looking flower and then make a character based off of that flower and that's about it.

Second off how I make the characters design mostly in my brain and gacha life 2 and in ponytown I did use to use animal crossing but I don't as much now a few of my characters came to me and dreams and that's about it for that too.

Now for the time frame of each character I made Nerium nightshade I made when I was seven her name was splashskitty at the time but she was the same basic character I made Periwinkle in gacha life 1 around 2017 or 2019 I don't know.

now I made Lavender Nepta and zinnia around 3 or 4 years ago at the same time I found the name Nerium and why started naming them all after flowers in the first place anyway a few months later I made daffodil Mirabillis and a month or so after that Aster and Asher who I realize I forgot to show.

A good while later in ponytown I made Delphinium and then Dianthus then Deparia and a little later I made Colocasia to and a few more months later I got gacha life 2 and I made Iris datrura to.

These two characters came to me in a dream about a year ago and they're really stuck with me and I made a whole tiny and incoherent story for them if you want to hear it just ask

This is Rosie posie Ashes she's 18 I was seeing from her eyes in my dream so she kind of looks like how I look like at the time because she kind of did look like me in the dream she can't die or at least she keeps going back from the dead and she's witnessed the horrors just two cats and a little sister that's about it.

This is Lindenii Jimsun shes 19 and she's completely insane has a very elaborate basement and kept killing Rosie posie ashes it was a very fun dream and it really stuck with me so I made these two characters because this is what they look like in the dream she also had a fennec fox and she's popular girl in school that everybody likes I don't know it's just her character.

And since I haven't shown them yet here's daffodil and lavenders sisters and Asher Aster

This is Periwinkle Angel heart she is lavender's little sister She's a little depressed she just wants people to leave her alone she also just wants to sleep she can see ghosts and she's kind of lazy and that's kind of about it for her personality. Bonus lore Lavender love pokemon specifically sun and moon Periwinkle only likes gen 1

This is daffodils older sister Mirabillis Belladonna bloom she's a goth girl that loves a vampires witches ghouls and all things spooky and she dreams to live in a big haunted mansion one day she doesn't really have much of a personality except for spooky things.

Aster bella bane she and her twin Asher were adopted by Nerium Aster is the fun loving optimistic ray of sunshine and she loves The legend of Zelda and games in general

And Asher bella bane is the pessimistic somewhat sad teen that listens to music and draws all day she still doesn't trust Nerium all the way she finds it hard to believe anyone could really love them and she just doesn't want Aster to get hurt.

And that's about it for characters I didn't mention and their history Now for the fun part this will be what songs I either feel fit the characters or that the characters would listen to maybe both at the same time I don't know.

Nerium nightshade. barbie girl by aqua hot to go by chappell roan and hey I don't work here by Tom cardy

Nerium nightshade reaper au. Oleander by mother mother and whatever will bleed will bleed by gloom darkheart

Nino nightshade. E.T. by toy box

Nepta nightshade. every song by Marina and the diamonds but especially how to be a heartbreaker

Aster bella bane. sunnyside by I don't know how but they found me pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows by Andrew Huang go kitty go by Dancing cats and any legend of Zelda song

Asher bella bane. downside by I don't know how but they found me wolf in sheep's clothing by set it off and animal I have become by three days grace

Lavender Angel heart. red wine supernova by chappell roan and Celestial by Ed Sheeran

Periwinkle Angel heart. sleepwalk by Forrest Day and any lullaby or music box song

Zinnia lily glow. too sweet by Hozier and I/me/myself by Will Wood

Actaea orchid blight. Please don't leave me by P!nk and hot n cold by Katy Perry

Actaea orchid blight reaper au. Angel of darkness by Alex c and change the formality by infected mushroom

Daffodil Belladonna bloom. play date by Melanie Martinez and Candy store by Heathers

Mirabillis Belladonna bloom. Every song by voltaire but especially the night

Delphinium snowdrop Hazel. Oh Ms believer by Twenty one pilots and open up Your eyes by mlp

Dianthus kalmia Hazel. good luck babe by chappell roan and my kink is karma by chappell roan

datrura venom Hazel. Get jinxed by League of Legends and pretty little psycho by porcelain black

Deparia verbena Hazel. Tornado by owl City and let's fighting love by South Park

Spider Lillie. Lone Digger by Caravan Palace and Widow me this by gloom darkheart

Colocasia lilium. Goodbye by Ramsey and discord remix by the living tombstone

Iris periwinkle. destroy me by Mr Kitty and Ebb and flow by and every Jack stauber song

Rosie posie Ashes. Freaks by surf cruise love my dead by ludo Dinner is not over by Jack stauber and two time by Jack stauber

Lindenii Jimsun. Killer by the ready set and blood and bones by gloom darkheart and bust your kneecaps by pomplamoose

If you read all that thank you for taking interest in my characters and if you have any headcanons for my ocs or songs you think fit them please tell I'd love too hear them and thank you again for reading my long post <3

Is anyone interested in art of my ocs I'll probably post them anyway but I just wanted to know

[some-mari-thoughts]

The neighborhood ghost

Waaaa! I loved reading the artbook so much, and Mari's page had everything I ever needed to see

[notbecauseofvictories]

Halloween Week of Horror (Games)

It's that time of year, and as someone who (a) loves horror, but (b) hasn't had much of an appetite lately for full-length horror films, I've been struggling to find a way to embrace spooky season. Then I hit on it---text-based games!

Even I, a known video game hater, love a good text-based game. Half poetry, half clicking, and all artistry, they're one of the great, underdiscussed treasures of the modern internet. Therefore, come join me for a week of indie horror "games" about haunted houses, ghosts, secrets kept, and also Mary Toft.

My list of games is cribbed from this post and this post.

DAY 1: childhood homes (and why we hate them), vacant, i am still here, flesh, blood, & concrete, domvs

childhood homes (and why we hate them) 

after a decade, you return home

Starting with this particular game was ingenious---it plays to exactly my weaknesses: poetry, unreliable narrators, unhappy families, and the house as locus of memory/witness to horror/horror in itself.

That being said, I feel like this would reward subsequent walkthroughs even more. I took it too quickly, wanted to rush to the end when there’s too much ambiguity for that. Did Lottie kill her father? Is the house still whole and there, even after all these years, or is that a fever dream? How long was her returning? Is she there still? (....and given the mention of the house being a “second son” are we meant to understand that Lottie is trans?) I also played “my brother; the parasite” from this same creator, and would say it's even better---that kind of identity/body horror ambiguity, wrapped up in twisted maybe-love, maybe-hate, is very much my speed.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 6/10, though it's largely uncanny and reality-bending rather than actively frightening

OVERALL GRADE: A-

vacant 

Film a ghost-hunting show.

Of all the games on this list, this one felt the most lived in, the most normal-devolving-into-horror. The set-up is reasonably familiar: you are a camera woman hired at the last minute to help a ghost-hunter with her local shoot. You meet her out in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, explore an abandoned hotel that was home to some weird stuff (cults, mysterious disappearances, more than one death), crack some sarcastic jokes---

Unfortunately, it gets even weirder at that point.

Despite getting tripped up on some of the mechanics (it took me too long to figure out that there was another room on the main level) this ended up being haunting, resisting easy answers. The sudden randomness of the violence bursts through, and the ending in particular is sharp, lovely, and even more unsettling.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 4/10, aside from some sudden noises (things breaking, etc.) the horror is largely atmospheric

OVERALL GRADE: B

i am still here 

a short, unconventional ghost story and vignette reflecting on the end of a long lockdown.

Unlike some of the other entries on this list, this is not a horror game at all. Perhaps a little uncanny, since it's just you---a purple thing on a screen---wandering around a pandemic-emptied Melbourne, musing about the way the world has changed. Still, as someone who did live through lockdown, it was surprising affective.

Brief, but moving. When the screen fades to teal blue, and it’s just the ambient noise of a small pond? That was lovely.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 0/10

OVERALL GRADE: B

flesh, blood, & concrete

you find yourself in a vast, empty apartment complex.

I have gone back and forth on this one. On one hand, the central story is affective---the main character's car runs out of gas in an unnamed town, in the middle of a snow storm; she finds help in a strange apartment complex, seemingly abandoned except for a lone girl, and her "parents." The more you explore the complex, the more you reveal about the woman's intentions, and the more uncanny, unworldly, the scenery becomes.

(I would have given anything to “see” the scenes of destruction, decay and otherworldliness in full color---even in 24-bit, they were lovely.)

On the other hand, the concept and the worldbuilding had such potential that the "frame" story (a little boy, sent out to play in the snow) and the ending came as something of a let-down? Or...maybe not the ending itself (a melancholy, depressed woman driving off into the snow and being swallowed alive by meat that is love---that's a good story) but the framing device made no sense. And why could you collect items if the aim is to surrender to that powerful, overall lure?

Still, I think the replay value here would be immense. Scrolling through the comments afterwards, there are a lot of people who got very different endings, so it's a game that rewards that exploratory path.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 6/10, and mostly for body horror (meat/blood) and uncanny worldbuilding

OVERALL GRADE: B+

domvs 

a gothic mystery game in which you rely on your environment to uncover the truth.

A lovely little story, where you play madlibs and discover why an unnamed hero chose to sell their soul to the devil—and the thing it makes them into, the tragedy that finds them regardless. One of the shorter entries on this list, and less a game than wandering through an abandoned house to admire its poetry.

Also, I loved the Latin. More games should incorporate Latin.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 2/10

OVERALL GRADE: B

[aspookyloop]

Time for an *updated* introduction/writing post! I’m spookykuroneko / Luna Elizabeth and I self-publish my writing as ebooks! I mostly write horror and murder mysteries that involve ghosts, witchcraft, or just people feelin' stabby. There's also always asexual, demi, and lesbian main characters solving mysteries or going up against the spooky horrors.

At the moment I have four stories out, and they're all free download on Smashwords and other book places, or 0.99 on Kindle!

Here's their descriptions:

A Day For Ghosts is my first story, a light-hearted shorter story about a girl name Ellie who one day finds herself with a weird problem: the ghost of a recently murdered girl has become attached to her. The ghost’s name is Arielle, an oddly cheerful and bubbly person who can’t remember how or why she was killed, and together she and Ellie have to solve the mystery in hopes that Ari can move on 👻

Midnight Witchcraft is a horror mystery about a girl named Amelia, who is now in the care of her aunt after her mother passed away. After moving to her aunt’s old hometown, Amelia meets a group of girls her age that claim to be witches. After a sleepover of witchcraft and storytelling with them, people the girls don’t get along with begin to die in crazy ways, and Amelia suspects one of her new witch friends is playing with magic… 🌙

Eerie Eden is a horror tale about four different girls: Eumelia, Moira, Annie, and Morgan. A death in their school brings them all together, and when a little friendship begins to bloom, they learn something that connects them: they’re all having strange dreams about the same woman, who calls herself Eden. The dreams are nice at first, giving the girls an escape from the pain of their everyday lives, and Eden offers them to stay. When the dreams turn into their worst nightmares, and more people around town begin to die, it turns out that Eden will go to great lengths to make them stay… 🐈‍⬛

Twelve Candles is a murder mystery. It's Violet's twelfth birthday party, and her classmates decide to play a cruel prank with rabbit masks and knives... that ends with death. The mystery goes unsolved for eighteen years, until Violet Woods returns to her old hometown of Twilight Falls nearing her thirtieth birthday, and ends up meeting all her old schoolmates again. She decides to solve the mystery of which one was the killer at her birthday party back then, which brings the killer back to their old tricks... The story is told from Violet’s perspective, but wanders back to eighteen years ago each chapter to the view of one of her classmates, showing that each kid from back then had dark secrets, and maybe even reasons for what happened... 🐇

If you read this far and like the sound of them, they’re available here on Smashwords (for free!) and here on Kindle (for 0.99)!

[gloriousmonsters]

crappy sleep but I had a dream about a trashy old mansion mad science horror movie that I will elaborate on when I'm not typing on my phone from bed so good on my brain for that

UPDATE: time to elaborate. read if u want a gender bendy pulp horror romance my brain came up with while i was asleep

so the 'movie' started with a scene of a mad scientist, his wife, and his (dude) assistant all discussing their current about-to-be-started project of transferring Mad Scientist and his wife into different bodies. she needs the transfer because she's terminally sick with something, and MS just wants to do it (a) for SCIENCE! and (b) to like, keep her company, which is sweet. they're disgustingly in love. they touch on some other experiments with 'life preservation' in the past and mention the dangers of straight-up immortality as an unknown quantity (what would that do to a mind?), and it's implied MS and his assistant have basically been doing a lot of fucking around before finally figuring out the body transfer thing. they've kidnapped/captured a young couple to use for the transfers, and the wife asks if MS has considered her previous idea, of her transferring into the man and him into the woman

I was lucid enough at this point in the dream, thinking I was watching an Old pulpy horror, to go 'oh this is pulp, it's going to be transphobic' but my subconscious instead went for the route of like. it's inflected negatively by implication bc they're the villains, but they're both just interested and excited by how minds, bodies and genders work (the wife specifically mentions that the assistant got her thinking about it) and think it'd be super romantic to experiment with being each other's genders for a while like a reincarnation romance or something. they also mention that the assistant is going to get a body transfer too, but he jokingly says that theorizing about men and women is fun, but he'll stay a man, thanks.

(that was The most detailed scene in the dream and set everything up i promise the rest isn't as long lol)

the actual main character of most of the dream was a frankly very bland young man who's English or American but between jobs in some mumbletyforeign country, living with a roomie he met bc they're both Writers or something, by the name of Kit. the only character that had a name in this dream, idk. anyway Kit alerts him to a job opportunity where a wacky professor who believes in ghosts or something wants to go to an old mansion with a dark past he just rented for the summer, and needs a couple strapping assistants to carry equipment.

they all head over, and discover a young woman squatting in one of the upstairs rooms. she won't share about her past but insists she has nowhere else to go, and the professor agrees pretty quickly to let her stay if she also Assists. she's mysterious and doesn't want to talk to him so ofc the lead instantly falls for her. there's vague spooky phenomenon and the lead discovers the diary of the mad scientist's wife in one of the rooms; it talks about the experiments and such but in vague terms (she's a writer, not a scientist) and cuts off right before the body transfer attempt. the lead asks around at the local village and learns that one of the kidnapped couple at the beginning was the daughter of a local rich dude at the time, so the mansion was stormed and the couple and assistant killed (in various gruesome ways, the assistant specifically by being crushed under rocks a la that witchcraft 'trial' and left to die) but there's been weird vibes around the mansion ever since, lights and voices sometimes, etc.

the lead at first suspects that the mysterious girl is the MS wife, immortal, but then witnesses Kit and the professor having sex and gets intensely suspicious of Kit, wondering if he's the wife in a man's body (bc he had sex with a dude and of course that equals 'woman brain'. lead is both transphobic AND homophobic.). eventually he learns the girl's backstory and it's hilariously banal (i remember no details, just that she somehow had the most boring reasons possible for being in the middle of nowhere and not speaking of her past). he goes to the professor afterward to demand details on how Kit seduced him/warn about what he's learned, only to have the professor be like 'oh you're just in time, i've just very psuedoscientifically managed to get my wife's ghost into this jar and I need to get her into a body soon'. lead flees, but is caught by Kit outside of the mansion and wakes up strapped to a table alongside Mysterious Girl, who's unconscious.

it's revealed that Kit is the assistant--their previous experiments had made him a healing factor eternally young immortal, the kind of thing they were worried about the mental implications of ('but I am utterly sane' Kit says while racking up some scalpels and other mad science props, it was delightful). the professor is the MS; their experiments meant he'd had some kind of brain backup Kit could painstakingly get into a new body once he'd dragged himself out from under the rocks, scared people away from the mansion, and kidnapped someone; but the wife had been without mad-sciency recourse and just died, and become a ghost haunting the mansion. It was only after several more decades that Kit and the MS devised some kind of psuedoscience ghost catching and stabilizing tools and headed back to the mansion w an extra guy for the purposes of body transfer-and wouldn't you know it, they were lucky enough to just have a girl drop into their laps as well. There's also a reveal here that Kit is trans, I think, there'd been mention of a 'girl' going to work for the MS in the past and then vanishing and that was him.

anyway, lead manages to break free, terribly done fight scene, he manages to kill them both and destroy the device holding the ghost, wakes up Mystery Girl and they flee. It then cuts to a scene of someone reading else reading the narration--which had supposedly been his diary--aloud. lead and mystery girl are hanging out with some guy at a cafe, and after finishing reading he says that it's trashy, and shocking, and crap, and he thinks he'll be able to sell about a million copies. lead is delighted, and says he's glad all his work editing--and writing, of course, over the summer--hadn't gone to waste. dude, who's seemingly an editor or publisher or something, says that it's a departure from everything he's written before, and asks what inspired it. lead and mystery girl smile at each other and say 'love'.

dude who's going to buy the book leaves, and someone else approaches; Kit. He sits down with them, and addresses the lead by a feminine name before correcting himself, which all of them seem to find funny. Mystery Girl says, in the MS's speaking style, that it's a pity the manuscript doesn't have its original, happier ending (implied it's the actual diary, heavily edited) and the lead joins hands with her and Kit and says, "doesn't it still have a happy ending?"

anyway that was the most coherent and fun dream ive had in years and i might have to write it as an actual novella now

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb: Fans of Ghost Squad will love this lightly scary creature feature standalone novel about a tween aspiring horror movie actress who pairs up with the twin children of her favorite director to defeat zombifying octopus-like creatures!

Halle dreams of becoming a scream queen. She practices her loudest scream every day and has learned a lot from studying the horror movies of her favorite director, Maximus Price. Maximus lives just outside town, and when the chance to go to his home arises, Halle grabs it with both hands. She doesn’t realize that real life horrors await her at Price Manor.Paisley and Argyle, Maximus’s twin children, think that the creepy, squid-like creatures that have attached themselves to the faces of the manor’s staff, putting them in a zombie-like stupor, are just another one of their prankster dad’s tricks. When Halle arrives and is attacked by one of the creatures, she meets the twins and assures them that this is no joke. The three kids will have to work together using all of their unusual talents to defeat the monsters—and maybe even save the world.Blending quirky humor and poignant heart with delightfully creepy monsters, this debut middle grade novel is a perfect entry point for young readers to the horror genre.

Review:

A girl who dreams of becoming a scream queen gets the chance to visit her favorite horror movie director’s house to deliver a bouquet of flowers only to find herself on a unlikely adventure with the director’s twin kids as they face the perils of the manor! Halle wants to be a scream queen, she loves horror movies and can’t stop practicing for her chance of becoming an actor. Her family runs a flower business and they have a running delivery to the local famous horror movie director Maximus Price. When someone needs to deliver the flowers, Halle grabs the opportunity to visit the home of her favorite director. But what she doesn’t realize is that she’s in for more than she could ever imagine. At Price Manor, Maximus Price’s twins Paisley and Argyle are awaiting their father’s yearly birthday prank. But something strange is happening and what they had assumed was just part of their dad’s pranks becomes something more real and monstrous they can’t even begin to imagine what they have to do. There are squid like creatures attaching themselves to the manor’s staff, putting them in a zombie-like stupor and now the three kids will have to work together to stop these monsters and possibly save the world before it’s too late! This was such a fun and delightful spooky read and I adored the characters, It was a charming story filled with adventure, monsters, and a great way to introduce horror to young readers!

*Thanks Netgalley and HarperCollins Children's Books, HarperCollins for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[1ddotdhq]

👻Wed 21 Oct ‘20👻

Boobiegate begins! Celebtm has published its expose about Briana and her alleged sugar daddy, Micheal Straus. He claims that the reason he gave her thousands of dollars was because she was broke and he was raised by a single mom, so he felt bad for her. The article goes through the ways in which Briana’s OWN FAMILY called her “unstable” (pot, kettle much?) and then! AND THEN!!! Goes through babygate! They outline all of it - that people think Louis is gay and with Harry, that she’s photoshopped pregnancy pictures, that they are photoshopping pictures, that Louis never sees Freddie, ALL OF IT. In front of each claim, they quote a fan, so it cleverly seems like they themselves are not making the assertion, but as anyone who has reported anything in this fandom would know, everyone has an opinion. The ones you AMPLIFY are the ones that you legitimize, and Celebtm even went as far as linking tumblr masterposts on all things babygate if anyone wanted to dig into it. Well, better y’all than us! In the end, however, they do take a strong stand, saying:  “Whatever the truth is about Freddie’s parentage, it’s clear that Jungwirth has secrets. While the vast majority of babygate proof is speculation and fan rumor, it does paint a picture of a woman hiding something. Whether or not Tomlinson is in on the secret or being cheated remains to be seen.”  

Louis himself has said nothing, nor do I expect him to. Michael Malarkey, a former co-star of Danielle’s, posted a tweet with a picture of Louis, saying “WE LOVE YOU LOUIS” after seeing it trend on twitter and then plugged his own music. I assume that this random shout out is related to the stir that Celebtm’s article caused, but, honestly, maybe he just really loves Louis. I can certainly relate.

Liam is doing his best to steal my title of *ghost* writer, as he makes a spooky halloween account: let’s all welcome Cornelius the Ghost to this year’s Halloween shenanigans! It is unclear what Cornelius’ role in the show will be, or if this is an eroda style RPF lead up to Halloween. He is a cloaked figure who is haunting Liam for information about the Halloween LP show via Instagram. Silly ghost, you should be haunting this blog instead! We have you covered (cloaked? You get it)! MUAs on Twitter have begun to send in their Halloween looks into Liam’s competition and they are VERY spooky. I’m not a fan of horror but campy, spooky Halloween fun? Sign me TF UP!

Golden is LIVE...or is it??? Golden is impacting radio stations and climbing some radio charts, despite the Official Date of Impact being the 26th, I guess they just couldn't wait. I have not heard it on my local radio, but I’m more of a Spotify kinda gal, anyways. I think stations have started to jump the gun and are playing it, in spite of any official dates. Eroda has stirred, at any rate, and added a description to their Lighthouse attraction. They are describing it as, “Eroda’s famous lighthouse is the perfect place to catch a beautiful golden sunset”. Very nice, very romantic! The picture that immediately comes to mind is the last shot of the WMI director's cut where the cute couple walks into the sunset. Sigh, I love that music video.

Harry is VERY in LA; he’s meeting fans, taking pictures, hanging out with his costar Florence Pugh, and wearing his rings again! He didn’t have surgical gloves over them this time, so we can see that they aren’t ALL back, but his plain bands (including the peace ring!) are firmly on his fingers. One fan who met him asked him to take a picture of her and her friend, and she bought dessert for him. In return, he covered hers - or, sorry, an anonymous patron paid for her dessert - it’s always nice to see that his mother raised him well! We also got a little throwback to last Christmas (I gaaaveee you my heaaarrrttt) with Harry sitting on Santa’s Lap in an LA party, presumably around the time of Fine Line’s release. I guess those North Pole Catfishers from last month were onto something!

Niall and Capitol Records are celebrating three years of Flicker, so Happy Birthday, it should be walking on its own and forming complete sentences by now, and at least a meter tall, if Freddie is anything to go by! Niall is celebrating by spending the day in a recording studio with british singer songwriter Anne Marie, who’s dream collab was Niall! Go girl, make it happen! He was playing an acoustic guitar, and hopefully making more of that new music he’s been teasing in interviews over the last week.

[ohhicas]

It's Spooky Month; time for Pence's Spooky ghost story he's worked hard on, waiting for the perfect beach party setting to tell it. Thankfully Ansem The Wise is here with some repayment, the special beach vacation the teens have been dreaming about for years (and two adults to babysit, just to make sure nobody catches the rental home on fire) It’s a story about 5 teens and their one adult friend who buys them ice cream, drives them places, and is hiding a dark secret.

   There's an abandoned mansion in town and the five teens are determined to find out it's secrets. What else do you do on your boring summer vacation, anyway? Little do the heroes know, two of their party, technically three, are survivors from the tragedy that hit the mansion so many years ago, memories all but lost. Or, lost to the blonde boy, his sister can’t seem to get too close to the house without losing her mind. Rumors are the mansion is really haunted, but how haunted could it be?

   Super haunted, apparently. 

   The old residents were betrayed by Xehanort, their bodies both living and dead experimented on to see how much torture their spirits could handle and how long their hearts could survive. One left frozen to the elements, immolated once his use was done. Another fed to a beast. The guardian, torn in half when trying to save his master. A young master’s heart removed. The manor Lord bound and starved. All perished, all still haunting the grounds

   The teen’s Adult tried to keep them from the mansion, having been forced and tricked to help with some of the murders under the lie that it’d save his friend who was also taken hostage, but the truth of his past came out when the quartet-plus-one got trapped inside. The truth of why the blonde had no memory beyond his tenth year and his sister’s reluctance to get close once they found he Crying Girl, dead and soul trapped in a room.

One by one they slowly figured out how the old residents perished and why they were so angry. None of the dead can truly see each other in full save two, each trapped on different planes of existence. It’s up to the teens to try to soothe the angry spirits, but if the kids get caught by the ghosts, they're dead. Their Adult sacrifices himself to help the teens escape in the end, letting his life be taken and spirit return to the house in the final escape when the spirit of a wolf comes to stop them in that final stretch.

   [Guys-- can you cheer up a little? This story...]

 Only after Xehanort is fed to the house can the ghosts finally rest and see each other again. Only then can they finally pass on and be happy.

    [Pence, Roxas, seriously, can you like--] 

Rumor has it the mansion is still haunted though, even after the Teens do their best, but now if you go there's One More Ghost waiting with a wolf at his side...

   [KIDS.]

--

I was gonna make a whole ass comic with this premise but I fucked up my hand and had to cancel plans, rearrange it to this fun premise with some very slow-done chibis :3c

tl;dr Pence made up a ‘totally cool horror story guys’ he’s sharing with the others and Isa and Lea are listening in, really concerned about how much he was able to guess/make up with frightening accuracy just from the vagues he’s picked up along the way. Neither are gonna sleep that well that night.

[ace-trainer-risu]

oh here! i’ll come ask you for book recs lol. do you have any spooky and/or autumn-y book recs? or just your fave books :)

First of all, I'm sorry this took me SO long to answer. I want to say I've been busy but it's just been general [waves hand vaguely] life.

ANYWAY thank you for asking! I actually don't read scary stuff a lot b/c I'm a wimp, but I have a few spooky/autumnal books up my sleeves! Let's see what we've got!!

1) The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters

Let me just start by saying that Sarah Waters is one of my absolute favorite authors ever! All her novels are suspenseful, twisty historical novels with great female and queer characters. Although, fair warning, actually The Little Stranger is like her one novel that isn't queer, but it is VERY good. If you read The Little Stranger and like it, please read Fingersmith and/or The Paying Guests.

The Little Stranger is set in the countryside of post-WWII England and follows a mild-mannered doctor as he becomes increasingly involved in the lives of the family living in the local, increasingly decrepit, possibly haunted mansion. Think Downton Abbey but creepy. Strange things keep happening inside the house, from dog bites to mysterious sounds to creepy black spots. Literally just typing that gave me goosebumps. It seems like someone may be out to get the family, but who...or what? Is it simply the ghosts of their own painful memories, or is something more? Sarah Waters is excellent at lush, intricate historical detail, and she leans into that here to create an atmosphere of slowly building dread and horror and mystery.

That being said, as a person who isn't normally a fan of horror, I don't think this book is too scary. It's more of an atmospheric, psychological horror than a jump-scare, bloody horror. It's not a book that will give you nightmares (probably), but you might lie awake thinking about it.

Also. Pro-tip. As a haunted(?) house story, the house is obviously fairly central to the story. Dear fellow Americans, keep in mind that the British refer to the floors of a building differently than us. For Americans, the ground-level floor is called the first floor, the floor above that the second floor, etc. For the British, the ground-level floor is the ground floor, and the floor above that is the first floor, etc. There's all sorts of creepy references to characters hearing noises above them on the first floor, but I was just like, Why are they always in the basement?

2) Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno Garcia

This and the above are two very different books, and yet they are both set in the mid-1900s and both are about weird, creepy, maybe-haunted houses. What can I say, I like gothic fiction.

After our heroine, Noemi, receives a bizarre, borderline incoherent letter from her beloved cousin, she sets out to visit her in the literally decaying mansion she resides in with her husband and his new family deep in the countryside of Mexico. All Noemi wants to do is persuade her cousin to come back home with her, but her cousin's new in-laws are very determined not to let that happen...or to let Noemi leave either. Secrets abound in the bizarre house and even creepier nearby cemetery, and soon Noemi finds that she too is suffering from bizarre dreams and visions...although, are they just dreams?

This book is so weird, but in such a good way? I read it for a book club and every week we had increasingly bizarre theories about what was going on, we were googling alchemy and fungi and St George, and some of our theories were even right. Although definitely not all. Another very twisty one that keeps you guessing.

In terms of scariness, interestingly I think there's more overtly creepy and horrifying moments in this novel than The Little Stranger, but I found TLS more overall scary? But that may be because I read it quickly, which I think is the ideal setting for suspenseful stuff, and I read Mexican Gothic over a longer amount of time since it was for a book club. This one does have some more typical horror elements to it, but I don't think it's more creepy than terrifying.

3) The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey

I listened to this one as an audiobook and the audiobook is excellent so would recommend that, but have no doubt it would also be great to physically read.

Oh my god this book...it's more thriller than horror, but I think it fits the brief. There were multiple moments listening to this book that I literally gasped or said "OH MY GOD!" out loud, and there are moments which are very creepy and horrifying. There's a particular scene in the backyard... Again, incredibly suspenseful and twisty. And the character development and character psychology is just! really really good! There's also really interesting and knotty feminist stuff which is a lot more complicated and nasty than some of the "girlboss" stuff which is popular right now.

Super minimal summary: All you really need to know is that it is a sci fi novel about a scientific researcher trying to pick up her life after her marriage has imploded, only for everything to go BATSHIT WRONG. Trust me, that's all you need to know, it's better to go into this not knowing what's going to happen or what to expect. I had no clue what this novel was about when I started it, and holy shit. Very good book, absolutely recommend this if you want some super suspenseful, creepy sci fi that will make you say "oh my GOD" repeatedly.

Okay, shifting gears a little now b/c autumn isn't just spooky, it's also cozy and restful and daydreamy!

4) The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic by Emily Croy Barker

This isn't maybe a cozy book per se, but it's a great book to cuddle down with on a dreary day and lose yourself in. If you've ever asked yourself, "What would it be like if you crossed Pride and Prejudice with Howl's Moving Castle except the wizard was way worse but somehow still sexy" - then you should read this book! I actually came across this book b/c I was like, I wanna read a book that's a portal fantasy but for adults, and this book was like OH here's everything you wanted.

It's about a grad student, Nora, who has totally stalled out on her dissertation and is at a shitty wedding when she accidentally wanders through a portal into a beautiful, fantastical fairy world. At first, everything is amazing and literally perfect...but surprise surprise, not all as is it seems, and soon everything goes to, how should I put it, shit. Nora escapes, but rather than returning home, she finds herself trapped in a far more dreary realm. But not one without it's own charms and it's own magic, and Nora finds herself the student-slash-sorta-captive of the crochety, sexy, maybe-killed-his-wife magician Aruendiel* and she begins to learn magic herself.

Unlike the above books, this is not a fast-paced, twisty book, and I think if you go into this expecting high fantasy along the lines of Game of Thrones, you may be disappointed. It's not really a typical high-fantasy novel, it's more of a cross of an 18th/19th century realist novel, a fairy tale, and a fantasy novel. But if you want that, then it's REALLY good! I loved this book! And the magic in it is so cool, something about the way its described feels so visceral and real and like you could really do it if you just tried hard enough. There is a romance and it's totally, intentionally hashtag problematic, but it's very laid back, very slow burn, so I think even if you aren't a person who digs romance you can still enjoy this. If you're looking for a feminist-leaning fantasy novel that you can just sink into and lose yourself in, this is the perfect book. You will long to magically fix broken plates.

5) The Ruthless Lady's Guide to Wizardry by C.M. Waggoner

Honestly I can't even justify why I think this one is an autumn book. It simply is. It's autumn colored in my head. It is the coziest book I have ever read about necromancy and crime. Also I just want to recommend it. This is another one that I listened to as an audiobook and it's also a good audiobook, for those who are interested. But it also means I will not be able to spell absolutely any of the character's names.

This novel follows Delly, an enterprising young scoundrel of a fire witch with a teeny tiny gin habit as she attempts to support herself and her hot-mess of a mom in the roughest neighborhoods of Fantasy-City-That-I-Can't-Remember-The-Name-Of. Lice...gate? When Delly comes across an advertisement for a bodyguarding job for young women for a hefty fee, it seems like the answer to definitely not all but at least some of her problems. She accepts, along with an interesting assortment of other sorcerous young ladies, including a wonderfully bitchy Absentia (my love), a young woman who can turn into a boar, boar girl's necromancer mother, and the very sexy part-troll Winn, who in my imagination looks like Gwendoline Christie and talks like Miranda Hart. Which. Perfect woman. Winn being a fine, wealthy young lady, Delly can't help but think to herself that it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Winn happened to fall in love with her and carried her off to be rich and spoiled the rest of her life.

Of course, things quickly don't go to plan, and soon Delly and her companions find herself caught up in wicked schemes of murder, drugs, and an undead mouse named Buttons who says BONG. I love Buttons SO MUCH.

This book is just a silly romp of a novel which worms into your heart and your brain. It's fun and cute and gay, and also it made me cry. I haven't stopped thinking, "Not quite regulation hammerball" since I listened to it like half a year ago.

Also, while I'm here, this novel is set in the same world as and features a few of the same characters as Unnatural Magic. Which is also a hell of a book. Literally the best bisexual relationship I have ever fuckin read. It's a winter book tho, so I simply can't go into it here.

Aaaaand...that it's! Happy autumnal reading :)

[blackjack-15]

No, the Creature’s name is Fraulein’s Monster — Thoughts on: The Captive Curse (CAP)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraphs above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: CAP, mentions of SAW, mentions of ASH.

The Intro:

The obvious Frankenstein reference in the title of this meta is the only one I make in the whole meta, I swear. It was a mistake to make the monster look like Frankenstein’s Monster, but I’m not gonna drag you guys or the meta down with that.

We’re professionals here.

This is a game with rather big shoes to fill, to be honest — it’s our first game in Germany, comes right after a very well-received “haunting” game and has shades of being a “haunting” game itself, its (small bit of) marketing played off Grimm’s Tales, and Savannah’s comment about staying in a castle where she discovered that the real monster was human cruelty is directly pointing towards it. CAP and its story could have crumpled under the weight of high expectations like MED, MID, and (in a slightly more controversial opinion) SEA did, but instead it did the opposite: in nearly every way, it improved on the Faerietale Formula that SAW inspired, and added to it.

Rather than a spooky haunted faerietale with a Hidden Villain, we have instead a monster — out in the open, even — as our main villain. The difference between ghosts and monsters isn’t really important in, say, a “Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark” or “Goosebumps” book, but it’s fairly important in a mystery, and even more in a Nancy Drew mystery.

As I’ve said a few dozen times in this series — and if you’re not tired of it yet, you will be soon — ghosts are a Reality in the Nancy Drew universe; they exist, they cause trouble, and they sometimes even help the living (or at least coexist with the living).

Monsters, on the other hand, never really exist — not banshees, not werewolves, not malicious wolves with opposable thumbs and the ability to cook poisoned foods, and certainly not monsters that in no way resemble the main villain from a Universal classic horror flick. Monster in the Nancy Drew universe is a Title, not a type of creature. Whenever there’s a monster on the loose, it’s a sure sign that there’s a bitter individual somewhere looking to hurt someone — usually for a personal grudge.

Which, as it happens, is exactly what happened here.

We’re still firmly in a Faerietale game — the ‘Nancy’ games start with ASH — but I do think it’s important to note here that the girls in this game (the victims of the monster, Renate, Anja) are all shadows of Nancy. The previous victims, sharing the designation of the Girl in the Dress with Nancy, are shadows of what could happen to Nancy if she doesn’t change the fate that’s been designated for her — down to the red hair of the original Girl.

Renate is a type of detective, trying to solve the mystery of the tragedies that strike the castle through the actions of the past. And Anja — well, let’s just say that Anja and Nancy have a lot more between then than the first glance might show.

The two women are foiled, especially with their love lives. Nancy’s dating a good man — despite the obvious, glaring problems in the relationship — and so their argument (and her own selfish behavior) isn’t the end of the world, nor the end of the relationship. They stop, they assess, and — with a little help from Anja — Nancy’s determined to try a little harder, leading us straight into ASH. The big thesis statement of the game is delivered, like last game, by our villain — “There’s nothing like love to bring order to a scattered world”. Anja gives Nancy good advice: communicate, and work for what you want.

Anja, however, was not dating a good man; she encouraged him, much like Ned does with Nancy, to be better, to try harder, to really reach for what he could be — only to be cast aside as soon as all the hard work that she had put in to supporting him led to good results. Her world was not scattered before — but after Markus, there was nothing that could put it back together again.

There’s nothing like love, indeed, but when it’s the wrong kind of person…well, the message that Anja took out of it was that somebody, somewhere, should care about her. And if they weren’t going to…well, a tragedy necessitates the force of Fate, and we know what Renate says about fate:

“Fate has a habit of digging in its claws when tempted.”

The last thing I want to touch on in this introduction — which I realize is a bit heavy on themes, but so is the game — is the importance of Titles within this game. The Bürgermeister, The Castellan, The Monster, The Girl in the Dress — this game operates a lot on character tropes, like any self-respecting faerietale, and the titles go a long way to showing who each character is. Karl feels dwarfed and inadequate next to his title; Anja wanted hers so badly that she was willing to lie; the title of Monster strikes fear into the heart of the vast majority of our cast.

And the Girl? The Girl in the Dress is a symbol of helpless fate, a sacrifice to propel the narrative forward. Remember what Renate tells Nancy? “The monster, he is here for you.”

Tellingly, it’s Nancy’s changing of what exactly it means to be The Girl in the Dress that allows our faerietale to meet with a happy ending, rather than a tragedy (the ending normally brought about by Fate, in Renate’s words). In keeping the title but changing the scope of the title, Nancy figuratively beats the Monster, and saves the memory all the Girls that came before.

The Title:

The Captive Curse is, as far as titles go, a masterclass. Nearly all the titles of the 20+ numbers are fabulous, but CAP’s title is a shining star even among them. Let’s talk about the important word in the title — “Captive”.

There are a lot of things that are “captive” in this game. We have the captives of the monster, to start off with, but there’s a lot more where that came from. The residents of the Castle and the castle’s town are also captive — they’re held captive by fear, as evidenced by the doors that refuse to open even when Nancy begs them to.

Shrugging off the idea of keeping this meta even a little bit spoiler-free, I’d also add that Markus is a sort of captive of Anja — there under false pretenses, drawing a web around him to finish him off — and equally that Anja is a captive of Markus’ — the shadow of her dick ex-boyfriend hanging over her dream job, watching him profit off of being a truly terrible person.

Renate and Nancy get in on the action, too. Renate is a captive of guilt, returning to the castle to try to prevent further deaths, haunted by her sister’s early death. She’s also a storyteller — a profession famed for having a “captive audience”. Lastly, Nancy is forced into the costume rather than her own clothes — a captive of the tale that’s being spun by our major players.

The Faerietale

In SAW’s faerietale, Nancy was the visiting prince, the Knight in Shining Armor to look after and save the kingdom. In CAP’s faerietale, however, her role gets changed around — not the least of which because we discover what an actual Knight in Shining Armor really is, courtesy of Renate:

“A knight in shining armor never did nothing for nobody. He never fought. A knight in dented, scraped armor - now that’s what you want.”

This isn’t the cynical take that some might spin it into — the Nancy Drew universe is not and has never been a Nolan-style grimdark-fest, skeptical of any good deed or honest inclination — but instead a declaration that it’s what people do that makes them heroes, that makes them good, that makes them who they are, not what they are (or what they seem to be).

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that, in a game exploring what good a Knight in Shining Armor might be, that the series’ resident Knight appears within the context of his fight with Nancy.

Ned in the video games series is the closest to a Knight that we really get; he doesn’t make mistakes, he’s always patient and kind and understanding, and helps out the best he can without being actually on the scene. In other words, his armor has no dents, nor scrapes, not so much by his choice (excepting possibly CRY), but by Nancy’s. By constantly leaving him behind, she’s cast in him his role as Knight in Shining Armor — but, as Renate points out, that’s not necessarily a good thing. Ned has the potential to be and do more — as ASH will show us.

And yes, there’s someone in the series that fits the knight in dented, scraped armor, but this is not the time for a Francy meta. If ever there is a time for Francy meta.

The biggest thing that changes from SAW to CAP is that Nancy’s learned from last time, and starts trying to figure out the faerietale she’s in the minute it starts in earnest. When she hears Renate’s tale, she’s sure she’s figured it out — guessing it was about Renate’s sister — but we’re shown that her perception is a little off (as the girl was Renate, not her sister). This shifting up of the roles is crucial thematically to our ending, where Nancy gleefully assumes the role of the Girl in the Dress as the hero of the piece, rather than the victim that the Girl had always been.

What Nancy happens upon here I’ll cheerfully call the Power of the Storyteller. All faerietales shift and change depending on who’s telling the story — look at the thousands of versions of Cinderella had all over the world, all too old to just be a knockoff of their geographical neighbor’s story or (yes, I’ve heard this) based off the Disney property.

With Anja telling the story for the majority of the game, it’s a tale about how sometimes the “monster” (and her version of a monster, specifically) wins — and how sometimes they deserve to win, to perpetuate the faerietale as it always has been; as Renate reminds us, “when death goes to take a ride, he follows the road that serves him best.” In Anja’s mind, there must always be a Monster, and there must always be a Girl in the Dress. With Nancy taking over the story, however, it’s about how the victim doesn’t have to be the victim, and that they have the power to assume their own destiny.

In other words, they’re playing out the central conflict that Renate outlines in her first discussion with Nancy: “If our time together is a comedy, then I was brought here by coincidence. If our time is a tragedy, then it must be fate.”

Coincidence and fate are also, coincidentally (heh) the driving forces in a faerietale — except that fate is also a driving force for romance. And because romance is our Chief Concern in CAP’s story, a lot of the story is about fighting against fate. In the end, it’s a coincidence that Nancy arrives, but Anja tries to spin it into fate by making her the Girl in the Dress. It’s only when Nancy takes charge, not letting fate have its say, that she arrives at the ending and is able to best Anja.

One of the great questions that this faerietale presents is about the Monster is whether or not it ever existed. In a Faerietale, the Monster nearly always exists in some form or another, needing to be drawn out and killed by our hero(es) before the day can be saved.

Indeed, in Anja’s modern-day retelling of the faerietale, the monster doesn’t exist — at least, not in its Monstrous form. In her story, Markus is the monster, and she must put on the guise of a monster in order to defeat him — in other words, if a monster is going to win, it’s going to be her.

To quote Ned’s astute observation, “[Castle Finster] has too many monsters.”

But it’s Savannah’s words that we should look to, as she’s a Storyteller just as much as Renate is. Savannah, heavily implied to be speaking of Castle Finster, says that the monster she found wasn’t a ghost — it was human cruelty that made the castle and its history so terrifying.

So we’re faced with the question: did the monster ever exist, or was it solely bad people, stealing cattle and sheep and young girls away for their own wicked purposes? Was there truly an amorphous being roaming the countryside, or was it just a clever way to shift blame from those who would do evil unto others? Remember what Renate tells us about monsters:

“The worst monsters are self-made. They are people like you and me, but they have taken a terrible turn. They let everything awful, everything sad, take up all the breathing room in their hearts, until all they know is revenge.”

The answer I would give is that, for this faerietale, it doesn’t matter if the Monster is real or not. The concern is not the nature of the monster, it’s the people’s reaction to the idea of a monster, real or imagined, that sets off our faerietale and provides the stakes. The fear is real and palpable, and the ends of our villain, while understandable and perhaps even praiseworthy, require some downright dastardly means.

The Mystery:

We open first on a look back at a young girl in an Era Past being captured by an unseen monster in the woods near a castle…only to have Nancy drive up on the Castle Finster itself in the modern day. Nancy’s been called in by the owner of the castle, Markus, who wants any troubles with the legendary monster cleaned up before he and his Rich Investor Friends arrive.

Rather than a welcoming piece of history, Nancy is greeted with a scared, unwelcoming town, the fear of the monster looming large and cutting deep — and that’s before the Curse itself turns its eyes on Nancy, forcing her to play along as the Girl in the Red Dress, the favored victim of the monster. Those in the castle are kinder than those outside of it, but there’s still the sneaking suspicion that someone is up to no good, using the guise of the monster to wreak a little havoc of their own invention — and time is running out before the monster claims yet another victim…

As far as the mystery goes…I don’t like to use words like “spectacular” because let’s face it, every game has its holes, but honestly CAP’s mystery is pretty spectacular. Attention-catching, a bit sad, a bit horrific, and loaded with faerietale tropes, subversions, and themes — there’s honestly just not much wrong here, especially given the limitations of, well, making a Nancy Drew game in the first place. The writing does a masterful job at hinting at horrors that, given the rating, they can’t say out loud, while still telling a fully cohesive story that even the young players will be able to grab at and understand (if not to quite the same extent)

The Suspects:

The game begins with Lukas Mittelmeier, so perhaps we should too. Lukas is the rather precocious son of the head of security of Castle Finster, as well as being Anja’s nephew. Bright, mischievous, and a huge fan of games and pranks, Lukas makes the castle a little more interesting — as well as making Karl’s life a bit more hellish.

Unlike another youth living in a castle (coughJanecough), Lukas is bright enough to be a competent culprit…he just isn’t malicious enough. Sure, he’ll play dress-up, spook Karl a bit, and stall Nancy outside the gates of the castle, but that’s really as far as he goes. He would have been an especially poor culprit, thematically speaking, and so it’s a good thing that the game never really attempts to lead you there. Even his dressing up as the monster is more meant to lull the player (and Nancy) into letting down their guard so that the real monster is a bit scarier.

Next up is the Bürgermeister and bad-luck-magnet himself, Karl Weschler. Having encountered his doppelganger as a small child, Karl has expected — and received — bad luck for the rest of his life, and lives in fear of being the cause of unhappiness to those around him. He’s also a board game enthusiast, having developed the (incredibly fun, it should be noted) board game Raid! and enlists Nancy to help him polish it while she solves the “huge monster problem” that Markus hired her for.

As a culprit, Karl would have been interesting, but thematically a little off. It would have had to be a situation where enough bad things happened around him at the castle to make him want to shift the blame, dressing up as the monster in order to throw the punishment off of himself and onto a nebulous force. An interesting plot to be sure, but not one that fits the more sinister nature of the game.

Our charming castellan and cunning culprit, Anja Mittelmeier is next on the docket. Incredibly good at her job, polished, polite, and fiendishly dedicated, Anja keeps the castle in good running order, gives Nancy advice, and is a doting aunt — all while secretly sabotaging Markus by acting as the monster.

I have a lot to say about how good a character Anja is — which I’ll cover more in the next section — but she’s also the perfect villain. All the information you need to figure out who she is happens to be presented to Nancy pretty quickly, but none of it is in the proper context to make it obvious.  Even her line — “there’s nothing like love to bring order to a scattered world” — is sweet and romantic at the time, and rather chilling and menacing when you have the whole context of exactly what Anja is doing to ‘bring order to a scattered world’.

It seems only fitting that after Anja should come Markus Boehm, the owner of the castle and the ex-boyfriend that Anja is working for revenge against. Markus is snappish, short-tempered, obnoxious about his money, and rather boorish — though he has some of the funniest lines in any Nancy Drew game — and is guilty of a lot, though not of haunting his own castle.

Casting Markus as the villain would have made this game an entirely different faerietale, one that would have necessitated Anja becoming The Girl in the Dress rather than Nancy. It might have been a more stereotypical Nancy Drew story, but it also would have been weaker – after all, a lot of the horror in this faerietale comes from the curse having its eyes firmly on Nancy, rather than on her watching it unfold.

Finally, our most divisive character is probably Renate Stoller, a cake-loving storyteller bound to Castle Finster by a mixture of fate and history. Personally speaking, I’m a total fan of Renate; she has a lot of freedom to liken the situation to stories and to spell out the fact that all stories are ambiguous without being morally relativist or faux-deep.

As a villain, Renate would have been interesting — set to haunt the castle that has haunted her for so long and caused her pain — but it would have removed the Storyteller archetype from the game, causing the player (and Nancy) to doubt everything she’s said, which would have been a shame.

The Favorite:

There’s a lot to love in CAP, both big and small, so I’ll try to tackle this section with some sort of organization, rather than just gushing from point to random point.

My favorite moment in the game is (in a stunning change from 90% of Nancy Drew Games) tied between the beginning and the final confrontation. The old-time film style beginning (a great example of a “cold open” of a type of horror totally distinct from SAW’s brand of horror) through Nancy’s first discussion with Karl is tightly paced and incredibly well done, introducing our main problems, a few characters, and how Nancy is stepping into this faerietale that’s been all but prepared for her. Special shout out to Karl’s “huge monster problem” dialogue, and Lukas’ getting caught at the castle’s gates — just some really great, distinct character writing that we normally don’t get this soon into a game.

The confrontation, which is normally somewhat cheesy, sometimes awful, and nearly always ill-supported (HAU being the best/worst example of this) in a Nancy Drew game, here instead shows off Nancy’s quick thinking and almost triumphant, smug nature when she figures it all out and traps the villain. The games coming up, as I’ve mentioned above, I refer to as “the Nancy games”, as they give us a lot of insight into who Nancy Drew actually is, aside from an amateur/burgeoning professional detective, but SAW and (to a larger extent) CAP really start giving us peeks at Nancy’s character — not as an infallible main character, but as a girl with an actual personality.

My favorite puzzle in the game — and I realize that it barely counts — is quite honestly Raid. Normally, the games that HER comes up with as minigames within their games are lackluster at best and criminally annoying at worst, but Raid (along with the games in ASH which are particularly enjoyable) is fabulous; it gives us more of that faerietale vibe that the game runs on, brings in Germany’s well-deserved reputation of being the King of Board Games, and actually contains a few moments of good characterization for Karl as well.

And I’m a sucker for getting to create your own card for the game. That’s just stupid cool.

One of the things that CAP does particularly well is its characters, so let’s talk a bit about them here.

Renate, a common favorite, mostly lives up to her hype, due to her storyteller’s dialogue, status as a Sage (slightly different from the usual Sage in a Nancy Drew game, due to her backstory), and intense relatability with falling asleep after eating cake.

Lukas is one of the few child characters in the ND games that actually feels like a child, so he gets points there automatically, even without noting how charming he is. Having Nancy talk to him under the table is also gold, even with the sense that she’s just humoring him, and having him dress up as a monster in a fake out that fools nobody (and even better, is not meant from a writing standpoint to fool anyone) feels perfectly in character for a relatively unsupervised rapscallion like Lukas.

Last on the favorite character list is Anja, a character done To Perfection. It breaks my heart sometimes that she’s the villain, but her character also wouldn’t be complete without being the villain — nor would I love her so much. Anja is patient, loving, a great aunt, friendly, gregarious — and a villain. Her line when she’s talking to Nancy about how she was honest and worked hard every day, and no one cared hits me every time. Anja’s a perfect example of a character who is intensely sympathetic and quite relatable without ever having the thought that her scheme involving Nancy was even a little bit okay. She’s a villain that I’d love to have come back, whether as a villain again or as a begrudging helper.

Finally, let’s get down to the miscellany.

The dialogue in CAP is pitch-perfect, from the distinct way of talking that each suspect has, to Markus’ insults, to the one-off phone call with the pamphlet company. The game in part is so fun because the dialogue is so fun, walking the line between faerietale-style narration (Anja, Renate) and almost Buffy-speak modernity (Karl, Lukas, Markus).

The last thing I want to touch on it — yes, you knew it was coming — the fight between Ned and Nancy. Yes, I’m a Francy shipper, and I do love that Frank is the one Nancy turns to for help with the fight, but that’s not what this part is about.

First off, I love that problems that would /necessarily/ come up in a relationship like Ned and Nancy’s are brought up here; Nancy’s constant jet-setting, while a common side effect of the job she does, is also something that would cause tension — especially considering that Nancy doesn’t really tell him when she sets off for another state/country at a moment’s notice.

A thing that has become Increasingly obvious over the entire series is that Nancy is, let’s face it, not gonna win any awards for Girlfriend of the Year, and in fact might win the opposite award. Ned is constantly giving her attention, validation, helping out when she calls him, and is understanding when she cancels; for her to not give the same amount of care to him (in different ways, as everyone needs different things, of course) becomes more and more glaring as time goes on.

My firm stance on being a bit anti-Nedcy comes from the belief that Ned deserves to get as much out of a relationship as he puts in, and Nancy, as the person she is and even as the best person that she can be, just can’t provide that. Their needs as people are just too different for a relationship to be fair for either person – and, as this game demonstrates, though Ned has the shorter end of the stick, it’s not fair for either one of them.

The Un-Favorite:

There’s not a lot that goes into this section, to be perfectly honest.

The forest is probably my least favorite section of the game — the part that I consider before starting a new game over — but besides tweaking it slightly to help navigation not be quite so frustrating (see below), even the forest is a pretty good puzzle.

The bag puzzle — especially if you, like me, forget every time that you can rotate the objects in Renate’s purse — is the only other annoyance in the game, and ranks as my least favorite puzzle over the forest simply for the fact that you can use a walkthrough to navigate the forest, while you can’t use a walkthrough to do the bag puzzle for you.

Other than that, CAP is just a wholly solid game — no least favorite dialogue, no awkward moment, no point where I turn down my brightness to make it seem like This Isn’t Happening.

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Captive Curse?

Honestly, the first and only change I would make is to fix the forest just slightly. I get that it’s a puzzle, but it’s not quite visually distinct enough to make it feasible for a lot of players to learn how to navigate. To fix this, I wouldn’t take out the forest, I would just make each piece of it a little more visually distinct, with more markers so that players couldn’t lose their place as easily.

There’s nothing other than that worth fixing. Even my dislike of the bag puzzle isn’t strong enough to suggest scrapping it, and it’s a type of puzzle that many people like and are quite good at — not to mention the fact that it’s not at all gamebreaking in its difficulty.

The Captive Curse is often sort of a “top middle” or just “middle” ranking for a lot of players due to the fact that it’s not quite as showy as a lot of “favorite” games, and thus can get lost in the fandom shuffle. But looking at it as both pieces and as a whole proves that this game is one of the most solid in the series sporting a great mystery, fantastic characters, and more than a little faerietale wisdom to carry to the next story.

[myhauntedsalem]

23 Parents Describe Their Kids’ Creepy Imaginary Friends

1. He doesn’t have a face

“My son from the age of three always tells me about the ‘creeper man’ who lives in my mom and dad’s bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said ‘Oh, he doesn’t have a face.’”

2. “You’ll get used to killing”

“A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.”

3. Little girl ghost

“When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville Horror (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when the dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed she said ‘That looks like Kelly.’ ‘Kelly who?’ we say. ‘You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.’”

4. Bad rabbit

“My cousin, when she was 5, and I was 17, had a stuffed rabbit that she talked to and carried everywhere. One day she was asleep on the couch while I was watching her, and she woke up and started yelling at her rabbit for no reason. One minute she was knocked out, the next, she’s awake, glaring at her rabbit, yelling, ‘No! You can’t do that! That’s bad! Don’t do it!’ I asked her what was wrong, tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally just took the rabbit up to her room, and when I came back down she was asleep on the couch again. Fuck whatever that rabbit was planning on doing.”

5. Roger won’t be around anymore…

“My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and nine kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.”

6. A boy in the tree

“My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says, ‘What’s that boy doing up in that tree?’ There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.”

7. The bunny man

“When I was 16, I babysat twins who were in the third grade at the time. They always spoke of a man in an Easter Bunny costume, and they were terrified of him. One day I was babysitting, and one twin was in the shower. His brother and I were sitting downstairs watching television when all of the sudden, he said, ‘You need to go check on Matt.’ Seconds later, Matt yelled, ‘He’s in here!!! He’s in here!!!’ I ran upstairs, and I had to check every room before he would calm down. I’m not sure which part of the experience freaked me out the most.”

8. Poor Shaggy

When my mom was younger she had an imaginary friend named Shaggy. When she was finished with Shaggy, she ‘chopped him up and put him in the fridge.’”

9. “Smash Daddy’s head”

“When my brother was just learning how to talk he grabbed one of those small toy hammers and crawled onto the sofa where my dad was sleeping. He then leant in close and whispered one of his first sentences… ‘Smash daddy’s head’ right into his ear.”

10. Dark angels

When my brother was little he acted like he had angels talking to him every second. One day my mom overheard him say, ‘I can’t kill him! He’s my only dad!’”

11. “That’s the man”

“My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.”

12. Message from beyond

“My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say, ‘What? OK I’ll tell her.’ She then got up, came into our bedroom, and told my wife, ‘Mary says you’re doing a good job.’ Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close to that passed away.”

13. I called him Spooky Guy

“As a kid, I said that my imaginary friend was a ghost. I called him Spooky Guy and said he died in the garage of the house on the hill behind ours. I even came up with his death. He was a 16 year old who got in a car crash and walked to that house to ask to use their phone (died in the 70’s). The person lived there grabbed him and sexually abused him there and killed him. He was my imaginary friend as far back as I can remember. This scared my mom so much that she tried to look up records to see if that happened and got me a therapist.”

14. Icy wants me to tell you it will be tonight

“In high school one of my best friends had a little sister who was five or six years old. One day we stopped by his place, completely high, because he needed to get his Magic cards. While waiting for him to come downstairs his sister came up to me and said, ‘Icy told me to ask you if you know when you’re going to die.’”

I laughed nervously: morbid question, right? But I knew all about Icy, her imaginary friend. I even helped her draw a picture of him once. So I played along and said, ‘No, of course not! No one knows that. Hopefully when I’m very old.’

The girl shook her head sadly and said, ‘No, Icy wants me to tell you it’ll be tonight.’ And with that, she just walked away.”

15. It is the punishment

“I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old boy. He’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. He wasn’t in the bed and when I opened the door, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say ‘shhh.’ I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, ‘Leave us. It is the punishment.’”

16. Keep kicking

“My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in New Hampshire when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.”

17. Nope

“When my boy was 4, his imaginary friend would sit in the corner of the room when you switched off the lights and light the room with red glowing eyes.”

18. They were both dead

“Kid I used to babysit had imaginary friends. They were dead. One had no head. One was an old lady. They were both bloody. The one with no head had insides sticking out of his neck.

I didn’t ask him questions about them because fuck that.”

19. Tracy

“When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, ‘Why don’t I find out more about this friend?’ So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, ‘She’s a she and she’s dead.’ And I said, ‘Does she have a job?’ And she said, ‘She does what my daddy does!’ Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. So then I said, ‘Where is your imaginary friend a police woman at?’ And she said, ‘Right next I to where my daddy is a policeman.’ But then she said, ‘I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched it when I was inside.’

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my niece’s ‘daddy.’ My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.”

20. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

“When my kid was 4, we were watching a documentary on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the TV and said, ‘That’s wrong. The boilers were on the other side. And I was right here.’ And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. ‘That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.’”

21. Emily

“When my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and I could hear my sister just screaming and screaming.”

“I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sisters little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.”

22. She floated above his bed at night

“When my younger brother was around 4, he had an imaginary friend named Victoria Meadowbrooke. He told us that she was the prettiest girl ever and she floated above his bed a night.”

23. “The Evil is coming”

“When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives.

Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She hung up her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): ‘The Evil is coming.’”

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Liz’s Birthday (2021) 2

Sunrise

(A Percy Jackson/Percabeth fanfiction)

“…Percy, why are we looking into Bloody Mary myth again? …Who’s apparently become very real, here in Toledo, Ohio where the myth originates?” Annabeth asked, surprisingly, only after she and Percy were already in Ohio to bust a ghost. Usually, she put up more of a fight than this, but Percy had been pretty adamant about this one for some reason, so here they were.

“Because it’s the right thing to do? Come on, Annabeth! We’re demi-gods, who have powers most people couldn’t even dream of. While we’re on a break from the gods playing with our lives for a change, why don’t we do something else good? Of our own choice?”

Annabeth supposed that Percy was right: that they needed to explore anything supernatural going on here, since they were the demi-gods and some of the only ones who could stop it.

But a small, bitter part of her wondered why they now had had to become supernatural policeman, after a lifetime of getting quests from the gods. When could they finally rest?

"Come on, Wise Girl," Percy pleaded, as he wrapped an arm around Annabeth's shoulder and kissed her cheek, instantly melting her in so many different ways. It really wasn’t fair. "We can see the sites and joke about how nothing ever happens in Ohio. It'll be great."

"That's mean," Annabeth protested, but not really meaning it, upon shoving Percy away while she smiled. "Imagine some passerby just happened to hear you say that nothing happens in their state!"

At this point, Percy had begun leading Annabeth to the mall she'd heard him gushing about going to before. And, okay. Maybe if they went shopping before they did something that might endanger their lives, Annabeth could allow this.

"Annabeth," Percy continued on, leading her into Macy's. "I think Ohioans joke about that kind of thing themselves. I've looked it up online. Apparently, the only thing they think they have going for them is their football team."

"Ooh! An escalator!" Annabeth chirped, the moment that she saw that this was one of the Macy's to have one. And instantly hating how much she sounded like one of Aphrodite's more ditzy, preppy daughters, and then despising herself for thinking that, too. "And oh, Percy. Do you smell that amazing chocolate coming from that pretzel store...

“Anyway, I still think it's something rude to say, Seaweed Brain, and I wouldn't do it. Also... as much as I'd rather be here than looking for ghosts, aren't we wasting time where we could be getting the ghoul? Unless you think someone here will know where to find her?"

…And that was exactly what happened. Later, when this cursed venture was behind them, Annabeth would wonder if Poseidon had supplied the girl—in still thinking his son could do better than her—but eventually, a young lady who was rocking aviators and a very hipster vibe approached the couple and just deadpanned, “You two look like some tourists looking for something spooky to keep you entertained. I’ll give you the address to the Bloody Mary house.”

And she did just that.

And about a half-an-hour later, Annabeth and Percy found themselves pulling up to the main event.

And if it, sadly, wasn’t very real, Annabeth thought she might have thought it was funny, how cliché it all was: the steps leading up to the home being covered in leaves… And the house itself being a hideous brown color—that had way too many holes in the ceiling, a few wasp nests, and boards covering up parts of it.

“So… this is definitely a murder house,” Percy stated the obvious. And Annabeth slapped him upside the head one for it. Why? Because it was his idea to be here.

“And yet we approach, like all those other hare-brained teenagers in horror movies, and throw our lives away. Percy, we know better!”

But Percy was not one to be deterred. And as much as Annabeth hated to admit it, it was something she loved about him. And really… in her heart of hearts, Annabeth was right there with Percy when it came to this.

Grasping Percy’s hand as they both walked in through the door, and into what looked like—well—a haunted house, with the lights off everywhere, dust on every surface, and sheets covering up some spaces, the two of them found themselves being drawn to the mirror in the center of the room, that seemed to be the problem here.

And since it was, Annabeth had to ask the golden question, “Why do teenagers even have to come here and play Bloody Mary, where the tale apparently came from? Seems like a bad idea to me! Do we really have to save them?”

Percy at least had the good nature to laugh (though Annabeth thought he did it just to appease her), before he answered with, “Yes, Annabeth, because we’ve been stupid teens in a spook’s lair enough times. Now, let’s go.”

“Fine…” Annabeth protested, suddenly feeling like she really didn’t like the idea of ghosts. But she was a champ, and stared down the, shockingly, unoffensive mirror herself. It was rather thin—and rectangular—with ornate, golden work of angels on its sides, that Annabeth was truly moved by, even though she didn’t ascribe to Christianity herself, of course.

“Alright, Wise Girl? You ready?” Percy tried to prepare Annabeth, squeezing her shoulder once, as he got out a water bottle, to use as water as necessary, in case there was nothing else for them to use here. Okay. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” Percy said rather bravely… which shouldn’t have surprised Annabeth, since that was clearly Percy’s whole shtick. But later, Annabeth would realize that when nothing happened—and there had been numerous “reports” from other people saying something had occurred when they had done this—something was wrong.

“All that work and she doesn’t even show up?” Percy complained later that night, loading all of their luggage into his car as Annabeth looked at their map, trying to find the quickest way back to New Rome and school. “I’m starting to think those guys in the New York pizzeria played a fast one on us… It’s kind of dumb, Annabeth… but I’m sort of a horror movie nut here. I wanted to see her in all of her glory. Like, the girl from the Ring, maybe: with long, wet black hair, in a white dress… pale skin, and dark, dead eyes, as she tried to throttle you.”

Annabeth was honestly only half-listening to what Percy was saying, instead trying to focus on the task at hand, but still trying to be a good fiancée by semi-caring. “And what did some of those guys at Koronet’s say? That she only targeted you, if you had a secret that someone had died because of?” Annabeth hummed.

“Yeah… but honestly, how many people have a secret like that? We’ve been in more wars than I even want to think about, Annabeth. But I don’t think even I have that… Clearly the whole thing was a hoax. Let’s move on.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed, lifting their cooler into the back seat and then getting into the passenger’s side beside Percy, ready to be navigator.

And surely it must have been her trauma—and the fact that she never wanted to recall it—that made Annabeth block out the fact that she did have such a secret.

It was later that night—moreso morning—around five, when Annabeth was driving and Percy was napping next to her, that the radio turned to static.

And at first, Annabeth didn’t think much of this. How many times had the fact that they were half-bloods stopped technology from working correctly before?

But it was when Annabeth looked in the rearview mirror… and saw someone like Percy had described that afternoon, looking at her with sightless eyes, that Annabeth began to panic.

And at first, the wise girl tried to rationalize that she was dreaming. It was late, after all (though sort of concerning that she might have fallen asleep on the road! Though maybe they’d pulled over and she just didn’t remember it). After all, she hadn’t even summoned the creature, Percy had!

But then Annabeth heard the hoarsest whisper in her ears, somehow all around her, accusing her that Percy had died in Tartarus because of her. And that if she wasn’t careful, he would again. “You should pay for such actions,” the voice said. “Take the razor out of your suitcase and slit your wrists.”

And, of course, Annabeth wanted to say “no”, and to maybe try to wake up, or to even try to fight this thing, but she instead found her hands going for her luggage in a sort of trance. As tears stung her eyes, she screamed out a name, “Percy!”

And it was a testament to how much they’d been through together, and what they were to each other, that he woke up like the snap of a pair of fingers. Annabeth was able to break free enough to grab a knife and hurtle it at the demon, but it didn’t do anything and went right through it.

Percy, seeing all of this, turned to Annabeth with a sort of fear she hadn’t seen on his face in ages, And he looked so apologetic, too. “Annabeth, I’m so sorr-”

But the ghost was shrieking now, as she teleported atop Percy and began tearing at his skin. “She doesn’t deserve your forgiveness! You fell into Tartarus! And you died while there, and she didn’t tell you!”

Percy was in a lot of pain now. Annabeth could see it plainly. And it hurt her to witness it. But she concentrated and remembered how they had prepared for this, and searched for their guns loaded with bullets and salt, they’d brought in case their normal tricks didn’t work, and began shooting the monster.

And just as Annabeth did that, Percy seemed to find his own strength. He seemed to be using some of his own water, his sweat, to collect, to push her off of him, and he shouted at her more and more thoroughly as she was away from him. “I chose to fall into Tartarus with Annabeth and I would do it again! If I did die… then it’s a miracle I’m alive and we went through the Doors of Death together! I don’t blame her for not wanting to relive that trauma. So, are we done here?!”

And all that—Percy defeating her own logic here, as well as the rock salt—made the demon disappear in a shock of light, screeching, as she almost seemed to be torn open before disappearing. Percy and Annabeth held onto each other tightly.

Somehow during all of this, Annabeth had pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and, oh, was she glad for it. She couldn’t have imagined going through all of that, while trying to drive the car.

After a few minutes, after they both had caught their breaths, Percy was apologizing again.

“Annabeth, I am so sorry. If I had any idea what would happen. Never in a million years, would I have-” But Annabeth was already cutting him off with a kiss to his cheek, while she still shook slightly and Percy helped to still her. This was what they did, wasn’t it? “Don’t be, Percy. She was something that needed to be stopped. So, we did do some good here. It’s why I’ve always been impressed by you, Seaweed Brain, and why I always will be. I love you.” And she leaned her forehead against his. Percy took a moment to digest that. And Annabeth wondered if he was taking a second to try and come up with some witty remark, but instead he just kissed her forehead and brought her in even closer. “Ditto, Wise Girl. Forever and always.”

And the two of them watched the sun rise up on the darkness.

Author’s Note: Since we both adore Percy Jackson, I always wanted to write you something for them, Liz. And I’m glad I was finally able to. But I’ve tried this piece for years (I think I even mentioned it to you), and it’s finally done. Yay!

Anyway, a bit of an explanation for everyone here: while I love Percy Jackson, the reason I’ve never written fanfiction for it, is because I know I’d have to write them fighting myths all over the world… and I feel I don’t know the world well enough to realistically do that. So, write what you know. I’m not from Toledo, Ohio (but somewhere in that neck of the woods, perhaps), so I can feel maybe authentic writing this, perhaps… but even then, everything might not be exactly right here.

And I totally ripped this version of the Bloody Mary story off of Supernatural. Not even gonna lie.

Hope you all enjoyed!

[justwritethatdown]

The Bella's house is haunted by the ghost of a girl who died there in the 80's . They have a seance. Things go very badly...

Rating: M for vivid description of violence

Words count: 3k

Trigger warning: cruent deaths, mention of blood

(I’ve been meaning to tell you)

I think your house is haunted

Beca had moved in the Bella’s house and had been living there with the other girls for just one week when she started to notice there was something weird going on in that place.

At first, she thought it might have been one of the girls – definitely Amy – who was playing tricks on her; it was just annoying silly things, really, like misplaced objects, doors that opened and closed on their own or songs that mysteriously changed to Cindy Lauper while she was listening to her Spotify playlists. All things Amy could have managed to do with little effort.

What made Beca question her believes were the events of that day she was sick and decided to stay home while all the girls went to class and then to rehearsals. She was home alone, so nobody could be pranking her, but strange things continued to happen – doubled even.

It started with her headphones; Beca could swear she’d left them on the desk, next to her computer, but when she came back from the bathroom they were gone. The brunette looked for them everywhere and finally found them in the fridge

“Mh, weird” she mumbled to herself, making her way back in her room to start working on a new mix.

 Halfway through her mix, her laptop started to flash and then it showed statics

“What the fuck!? Come on you can’t die on me right now” lamented Beca hitting her laptop, she took her brand-new iPhone 5 and saw it was doing the same thing “what the hell is going on?”

She threw the phone asides and stated that she was delirious, probably due to the fever, so she decided to make herself one of Chloe’s infusions. Beca put the boiler on the stove and started looking in the cabinet for the infusion, when the home theater they had in the living room started to blast Time after Time.

“Who’s there?” she called out but didn’t get an answer. If she was honest, she’d admit she was starting to freak out a little bit.

The brunette slowly entered the living room to see that nobody was there

“That’s not funny” she called out, doing her best to hide the shake in her voice “Amy I saw you, you can come out” she tried, but again, no answer. She gulped and went to turn off the stereo, then slowly sat on the sofa to calm down, but the boiler’s whistle made her jump

“Fuck” she spat out marching to the kitchen.

Beca took a deep calming breath pouring the boiling water in her favorite mug, put the boiler away and sat down to enjoy her drink. The warm bitter liquid running down her throat was starting to relax her and free her lungs, she put down the mug and rubbed her face with both hands, when she heard the mug crashing on the floor.

  Chloe opened the door and the first thing she saw was a baseball bat moving in her direction. She dodged it and saw a very startled Beca holding it

“Beca what are you doing?” she squeaked

“I- sorry I thought…” trailed off the brunette letting her weapon fall and tiredly hid her face with her palms

“Hey, what’s going on, how are you feeling?” Chloe asked removing Beca’s hands “Oh my god, Bec, you’re burning up! Let me take you to bed”

 “I broke a mug” mumbled Beca while Chloe was helping her under the covers “and my phone” she added

“Your phone is working…” stated Chloe showing it to her “don’t worry for the mug, now try to get some rest” she whispered tucking a lock of brown hair away from Beca’s forehead.

Beca let out a heavy breath and briefly considered telling Chloe what she went through

“Chlo…”

“Mh?” the redhead asked turning around with a soft smile

“Thank you” mumbled the brunette before rolling on her side. “Ghosts don’t exist you’re just delirious” she told to herself before falling asleep.

 “You’re such a loser”

“You will never be one of us”

“There’s no place for cowards in here”

“Ahahahah”

It was night, the cold air was making Beca shiver. The area of porch she could see from her bedroom’s window looked different than usual and she couldn’t recognize any of the voices laughing at her. She wasn’t looking down from her window, she was standing outside the window. She was barefoot.

“Come on, we don’t have all night!”

Beca swallowed hard, her head was spinning, she slipped.

 Beca woke up in her bed, damp with sweat, her – now working – phone pointed 4AM, she groaned and went back to sleep.

 Weeks passed and then months, objects kept disappearing and appearing in weird places and Beca made sure to never be alone in the house again, but she never talked to anyone about what happened, she was too embarrassed about it – ghosts don’t exist.  

One evening, after helping Jessica find her bracelet that ended up being in a plant near the bathroom, she decided to talk to Chloe about it.

“Hey Chlo, can we talk for a moment?” she mumbled, still uncertain about saying it out loud

“Sure, what’s up?” asked the redhead putting aside her Russian lit book

“I uhm… this might sound weir but…” she trailed off

“You know you can tell me everything, right?” assured her Chloe leaning in to grab her hand

“I – not that I believe in this kind of things, but uhm… I think there’s a ghost in the house”

Chloe’s face fell and she cleared her throat sitting back straight “Yeah, that’s Molly” she said casually, going back to her reading.

“WHAT?” gasped the brunette

“Molly” repeated Chloe “she died here in the 80’s” she explained

“You don’t actually believe she- she’s living with us, right?” stuttered Beca

“Of course, she is-”

“What are we talking about?” interrupted her Stacie

“Apparently we have a ghost” explained Cynthia-Rose who happened to hear the conversation

“Cool, a ghost story!” gasped Stacie excited “wait, I’ll call the others”

 They moved in the living room after Stacie gathered all the girls and Chloe started telling the story

“In the 80’s this house was the sorority house of the θγτ. Those girls were known to be the cruelest sorority Barden had ever seen. They always made their new members prove their worth through impossible dares, like eating worms or doing dangerous things. Most times the new girls run away crying and were thrown out of the sorority, but there was this girl – Molly – who wanted to be part of the sorority more than anything. She was willing to die for it-”

“How did she die?” interrupted Beca, her throat felt tight and her heart was beating incredibly fast

“It was initiation night. They gave her a dare, a test of bravery…”

The crunching of chips coming from Amy destroyed the mood Chloe was skillfully setting with her story

“Amy, would you mind!?” lamented Cynthia-Rose

“What?” asked Amy stopping with her mouth full of chips

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here…” added Ashley

“Go on” spurred her on Stacie

Chloe cleated her throat “they told her that to be a member of the θγτ she had to walk on the ledge from side to side of the house only wearing her nightgown. They knew she was scared of heights, they probably thought she would have given up, but she tried anyway…”

“fuck…” whispered Beca, she had chills thinking about her dream

“She fell” added Chloe in a sad voice

“Do you want to contact her?” offered Lilly in her usual creepy tone

“Yes! Let’s summon a ghost” squealed Stacie

“Dude, no!” gasped Beca horrified

“What? You scared Mitchell?” challenged her the tall brunette

“I’m not scared” retorted Beca

“Come on, it’s Halloween week, it’ll be fun” tried Jessica and the girls agreed. Beca didn’t like it, she didn’t like it at all.

 Lilly seemed to be rather expert on the field. She made them move the furniture and drawn a pentagram on the floor in the middle of the living room, she turned off the lights and placed five candles, one on each point of the circled star. The girls were sitting in circle around the symbol while Lilly placed herself in the center and started saying something Beca assumed to be in Latin.

Suddenly a gust of wind turned off all the candles and the room feel silent

“You girls shouldn’t be playing around with seances” Lilly said in a demoniac voice and someone, probably Jessica or Ashley – Beca wasn’t sure – screamed. Some of the girls turned on the flashlight on their phones and they could see Lilly standing up, with her hair down on her face.

“Shit, she looks just like Samara” said Amy

“You foolish girls, must pay respect to the rituals” Roared Lilly

“Fuck, is she possessed?” gasped Cynthia-Rose

“Lilly that’s the best Halloween prank I’ve ever seen” laughed Stacie “You look disgusting”

At that Lilly howled in rage turning to Stacie and showed her face, her eyes were completely white, and her body was still facing forward while her face was turned to look at the brunette. The girls screamed and moved away but Beca noticed Chloe was still on the pentagram

“Chloe what are you doing?” she shouted to her

“Molly” tried the redhead swallowing hard

The monster turned to face her and Beca grabbed Chloe’s hand to drag her away. Molly grunted and started to walk towards Stacie, in the meantime someone had turned on the lights and Beca could see that Lilly wasn’t wearing her clothes anymore, she recognized the white gown she was wearing in her dream.

Molly reached Stacie and cornered her

“Please, please not my face! Or the boobs, please-” begged the girl, but the spirit reached out to her throat and ripped her trachea out making blood splash everywhere. All the girls screamed in horror crying out Stacie’s name and the lights went out again.

 The Bellas ran away in different places of the house and Beca had no idea where the others went, except for Chloe who had never let go of her hand. She had dragged her in a room and locked the door behind them, everything was dark and Beca could barely make out the silhouette of Chloe’s face.

“I can’t believe Stacie is dead” sniffed Chloe

“Yeah, that’s crazy” murmured Beca letting the redhead hug her

“I’m glad you’re her with me” she breathed out

“Me too, I can’t imagine being alone right now” confessed the brunette and Chloe pulled away from the hug

“No, I mean… I’m glad that it’s you” clarified the redhead looking into her eyes

Beca swallowed hard noticing how close they were and in the dim light she could see Chloe’s eyes looking down at her lips for a moment. It’s funny how you throw all cares to the wind when you think you’re about to die. Beca leaned in and kissed her. Chloe responded instantly pressing her against the door and slipping her tongue into Beca’s mouth. Her hands were desperatcely gripping at Beca and for a moment the brunette thought that maybe this was worth dying for.

Their kiss was interrupted by Cynthia-Rose pointing a flashlight at them

“Finally!” she cheered making them jump “we need to go to the basement, unless you have something better to do…” she added in a judgy tone

“Why to the basement?” asked Beca clearing her throat “of all places…” she added with a shiver

“To fix the lighting maybe?” retorted Cynthia-Rose

“Okay but why can’t you go?” asked Beca hissing when Chloe hit her with her elbow

“Because the black and the queer characters always die first in horror movies, and if you didn’t notice, I am black and a lesbian! So, I’m definitely not going there alone” explained the girl

“Of course we’re coming with you” agreed Chloe.

 “Lock the door” intimated Beca once they entered the basement. They reached the electric cabinet and Beca pointed the light of the phone to it “you know how to do that?” she asked

“Yep”

While Cynthia-Rose was working on the cables Beca let herself get lost in the comfort of Chloe’s body pressed up against her back and the girl’s fingers intertwined with her owns. It caused a weird warm sensation, like if it didn’t matter that there was a murderous demon around the house and that they were all going to be slaughtered by it.

When the lights started working again the girls turned around to find Molly covered in Stacie’s blood standing in the middle of the room. Beca whimpered and pressed herself more into Chloe who had pretty much the same reaction, while Cynthia-Rose threw her flashlight to the monster hitting her in the face and gaining them some important seconds

“Go go go go go!” she shouted, and they started to climb the stairs.

As soon as Beca and Chloe were out of the basement door, it slammed shut behind them trapping the other girl inside. They could hear her scream and hit the door trying to open it, so they started doing the same until Beca couldn’t hear her anymore

“Chlo…” she tried, but the red head wouldn’t stop “Chlo-”

“We need to get her out of there Beca!” she cried

“Chlo, it’s too late… she’s gone” she sobbed “we have to go” she added grabbing Chloe’s hand again, but this time it wasn’t enough to calm her.

They started to run towards the door, when the couch slid between them and their target, they turned around to see Molly slowly approaching them.

“You don’t belong here” thundered Molly tilting her head “you didn’t complete the ritual”

“Yes, yes she does” gasped Chloe placing herself in front of Beca “Bree didn’t want her at first, but then she was okay with it”

“Chlo what are you doing?” whispered Beca, but the monster suddenly turned around and walked away “what the fuck?” breathed out Beca in confusion.

They saw Cynthia-Rose crawl out from the basement and ran to help her

“How are you what did she do to you?” asked Chloe helping the girl up to her feet

“Slowly, slowly, I’m injured” she gasped showing them a bleeding wound on her hip “she pushed me downstairs, I must have caught a nail or something”

“Come on, let’s take you to the bathroom, Chloe has a first aid kit” said Beca pushing the girl’s arm around her neck to help her stand.

 On their way to the bathroom, they found Jessica with a tear-stained face standing next to the staircase that led to the second floor, Chloe moved to hug her and saw Ashley’s lying on the floor with her neck broken and some limbs twisted.

“Fuck” sadly whispered Cynthia-Rose rubbing her face with her palm

“Lilly was following us upstairs, Amy got away” sobbed Jessica “I couldn’t leave her”

“It’s okay, come here, it’s okay" tried to comfort her Chloe.

 The group made it to Chloe’s bathroom and the redhead was trying to medicate Cynthia-Rose as best as she could

“What else did you see in horror movies?” asked Beca

“About ghosts? They’re usually here because they have unfinished business- ouch”

“Sorry" whispered Chloe

“ ‘s alright. But those were movies I don’t know- OUCH!”

“I’m done" promised Chloe getting up

“I don’t know if it applies to real ghosts” added Cynthia-Rose

“It’s all we have" huffed Beca “I need to try, and we still need to find Amy"

“I’m coming with you" said Chloe

“No, it’s too dangerous I don’t want you to get hurt”

“You’re not going alone” argued Chloe and Beca gave up

“Alright. Jessica, you stay here with CR”

 Beca and Chloe started to wander around the house, looking for Molly

“Why did you think the ghost was after me?” whispered Beca

“Her name is Molly” corrected her Chloe “and I don’t know…” she trailed off

“You mentioned Aubrey, did she tell the ghost- Molly, to haunt me or something?” suggested Beca

“What? No" gasped the redhead “I just assumed because she’s been here the whole time I was in this house, but since when you moved in, she seemed to be… more nervous” she explained

“I had a dream about her" confessed Beca “I mean I was her. In the dream. The night she died… I think she just wants to be accepted"

They heard a loud noise and suddenly stopped swallowing hard

“we should check that” said Chloe in a tiny voice

“I hope it’s Amy" huffed Beca nodding

 As it turned out it was Amy, but she’d just been thrown against the wall by Molly.

“Amy” shouted Beca without thinking, letting the ghost know they were there

“Beca, finally! Save me, I’m too important to die" screamed Amy trying to free herself, but the monster shoved a hand in her chest ripping her guts out.

“No!” cried Beca “stop it, what do you want from us?” she shouted at the ghost

Molly let Amy’s body fall to the ground and started to walk towards them again.

“You did not respect the ritual" she kept saying, the lights were flashing like crazy and there was wind coming out of nowere

Beca took a step forward “what ritual? What are you talking about?”

Molly pushed her asides and took Chloe by the throat. The redhead gasped trying to free herself from the bloody hand chocking her, but it was pointless

“You must complete the ritual!”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do your ritual” volunteered Beca

Molly instantly let go of Chloe and turned to the brunette

“Bec no" begged Chloe trying to catch her breath

“You are a Bella now!” she declared, confusing both Chloe and the ghost

“I, as co-captain of the Bellas, declare that you have passed the test and are a Bella. You’re one of us" she gulped, her heart was beating so fast it was hard to breathe, like if she’d run a marathon. Chloe had reached her and was standing beside her

“And I, as the other co-captain, approve that" confirmed the redhead.

“Thank you" whispered Molly.

Suddenly the lights stopped flashing and everything seemed to be back to normal. Lilly’s body fell to the ground with a thud and Chloe immediately moved to go check on her but Beca stopped her

“What if she’s faking it?” questioned the brunette

“Why would she fake it?” pointed out Chloe and went to kneel down besides Lilly.

“Is she…” asked Beca

“She’s breathing” assured Chloe relieved

“We should call the police” suggested Jessica once her and Cynthia-Rose joined them.

 The police was still taking their depositions and Lilly was taken away with an ambulance, it was clear that the girls couldn’t have been killed by a person, but the policeman refused to believe their ghost story and kept asking them if they’d taken any drugs or were drunk. He kept bringing up an animal attack, almost like if he was trying to convince them.

Chloe went to sit on the porch next to Beca, both wrapped in those panic blankets they’d only saw in movies before that night.

“You saved my life" she stated humping her with the shoulder

“Well, you tried that first” answered Beca looking down at her feet “I noticed you stepping in front of me"

“Yes, but it turned out she was never after you… she just wanted the head of the sorority to accept her"

“If I only figured that out earlier Amy would still be alive, maybe Ashley too" sniffed Beca

“Hey, look at me” told her Chloe reaching out to gently tilt Beca’s face towards her “it’s not your fault, okay? If anything you saved the rest of us. If it wasn’t for you I…” she trailed off shivering at the memory of that cold hand around her throat

“I’m glad you’re okay" whispered Beca with teary eyes before leaning in to kiss her.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviews: The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers/A Day at the Aquarium

Last full episode before hiatus! The Kids have a sleepover in the castle that starts like the Princess Diaries 2 and ends in unspeakable horror, while the Plantars try to spend one final day together without getting sad. Sort of like everyone these days without the final part. One last ride under the cut. 

Whelp it’s the end for this batch of episodes which is sad, and i’ll genuinely miss covering these every week. Yeah I have other coverage incoming with Ducktales coming back, eeeee, and current Loud House coverage.. but it was still nice to have something to cover this summer and something to watch every week during this blighted year, as i’ve mentioned before there weren’t any BAD episodes just hard to cover ones and I think by the end I figured out how to do that.. mostly by stopping straight up recaps for more condensed ones. Point is I had fun, grew as a reviewer, and it was a good way to kill a few saturdays, sundays and one or two mondays, and that ain’t bad at all. So before we come back for halloween, let’s send off weekly amphibia coverage in style for now, unless it comes back in November and I look stupid, with this week. Let’s go. 

The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers

Well this one took a turn. It was also an excellent one as we got more insight into Marcy and Anne’s friendship with Sasha, and some truly excellent horror. Yes, horror.  The Plantar kids head to the castle for the evening for a Sleepover. Turns out the king finally did find something, as did Marcy who’s playing coy about what they found in the hidden library I forgot to mention last time because I was covering 4 episodes at once. Anyway King Keith David has a meeting with them tommorow. So the kids are staying with Marcie to have a fun night together while Hop Pop has a night without the kids to get something head to toe.. it’s better not to ask. They also annoy Olivia who goes off to drink.. juice. Yes the hard juice that comes with a lemon wedge and speedoed servant newt. 

It’s also our ambigously gay duo’s first sleepover without Sasha, but their confident they can do this themselves while Sprig is hoping i’tll be good as his first sleepover (And has a creepy closeup about formative memories) Cue a fun montage of everryone annoying olivia and getting into hyjinks round the castle from sillys tring, which is shot from critters, to painting moustaches. It’s fun stuff.  Then we go from fun stuff to...

As , in order to stay awake, as being the bastion of pleasantness she is Sasha refused to let them sleep till sunrise, Marcy and Anne initate a SCARE DARE! A SCARE DARE! is a scary dare where the person who dosen’t complete it goes in the book of losers. Which of course was Sasha’s idea, both in general concept and the dares done. What a well adjusted young lady!  So naturally our heroes go into the basment they were told to stay out of. They get pass Lady Olvia because she’s passed out drunk on hard lemonade, living the dream as it were. ,Anyway they.  find a bunch of tombstones, and then Marcy and Anne taking a selfie (Say desecration) wakes the dead... all because they were both playing chicken. One has to imagine how the kids talking with hop pop would go

So yeah the ghostly horror terrors chase the kids, who somehow end up in Marcy’s room. So she just has a passage from a floating graveyard contaning horrifying eldtirch ghosts to her room.. a room the king put in for her. Someone protect this child. 

So our heroes soon have to deal with the ghosts but luckily sprig’s mirror catching it reveals the mirrors, which were foreshadowed earlier by a hall of mirrors leading into the corpse room, making the ghosts solid and allowing our heroes to fight htem back. Our heroes are exausted, Marcy and Anne reveal that they also chickend out on the scare dare so it’s okay, and Oliva arrives. It’s go time.  Final Thoughts: A fun episode that quickly pivots into a great and nightmare inducing one perfect for spooky season coming up soon. I do generally wonder just WHAT those things are, and it’s great setup for whatever’s abotu to come. And while I didn’t mention it in the recap we also get sprig finding some sort of painting and it being of the king, a toad and a frog.. we don’t get to see it clearly so it could be someone else.. but.. it’s clear the king likely has ties to what happened before. But what DID happen before? what are those ghost things? what’s the king’s angle? 

Yeah I have no answers for now on what the king’s plan is, or how inocent he is or if that’s his dad, just that something’s clearly wrong. And the omonious chess metaphor told us that.. yeah I do think that bit was kind of a mistake as otherwise while we’d probably still question the king, we would be more conflicted as evidence piled up versus “yeah something’s clearly wrong. “ Then again we genuiely don’t know what his motives or plan is or how well intentioned he is or anything other than he SEEMS nice, and that said game could be a necessary evil for all we know. We just don’t have enough information, even with the ominus bits, to truly know what’s going on and what kind of villian the king is. If he is one at all the show could pull a massive swerve on us.. I mean I doubt it he probably is evil, but I wouldn’t put it past the show. For now let’s move on so I can do more wheel spinning and what not...

Day at the Aquarium

So it’s time for another audience with the king. Turns out he and Mar-mar found out a LOT. Or Marcy did at least, as the above makes clear the king may of known ALL OF THIS already, and just needed Marcy and Anne to think he didn’t long enough for his evil plans. But we do learn a LOT about the gems, the box, and what it does as well as how to fix it... 

So let’s not waste time since some of you probably don’t have episode acess this early and want to know: Turns out the calamity box is an interdimensional travel device, and, as far as the king tells us anyway, the king’s ancestors went around from world to world as explorers, possibly the group seen in the picture and just as likely the king himself hiding his role in things. Now how much of the explorer part is TRUE remains up in the air, especially since history also painted Columbus an explorer, including when I was in school, and not you know.. an idiot and a colonizing bastard. History is written by the winners after all so it’s hard to know what’s true, only that the book is likely real: While the king COULD’VE planted it to lead marcy, or had one made up, a fake would’ve been spotted immeditly as we’ve established Marcy is a master detective with batman level deductive skills. Or Elongated Man but I wanted most of you to get the refrence and his adaptation versoins so far haven’t been the kindest to ralph. Anyways, point is that con wouldn’t work on her so the book IS real, as is it’s info on the box.. i’ts just hard to tell what was left out or if this was written before utter diastaer and apocalypse insued. After all Gravity Falls Journal 3 is all fine and dandy about bill before the giant passage about bill not being trusted written in blood and Ford going into a paranoid tailspin after realizing his friend is actually a horrifing monster, literally and figuratively, so we don’t know WHAT could’ve been hidden in a nother book the king could’ve removed at any time before  Marcy got there or while she was away on a mission.  But yeah while we know there’s probably more to it this is sitll big information, the box connecting to 4 other worlds other than amphibia, which not only opens up the story possiblities but the fan fiction, and that each of the gems can be recharged at three temples, each one of the gems responding to a diffrent trait judging by the symbols, each representing our girls; Purple is strength, and thus sasha, Blue is Heart, Anne, and Green is Brains, Marcy. I do like thisd as it tells us more but only raises further questions, hooking the audience more. It’s great stuff. But our heroines now have a goal.. but unforutnately the Plantars need to go back and Anne can’t go with as Marcy wants her close. It’s harvest season soon and the Plantars have been away long enough. So they have one last day, though both marcy and the king are apologetic and the king offers them a large tissue and upon getting no response just gives it to them as next time we see them with it. it’s both a great gag, and a nice show of kindess from the king and possible diabolical mastermind. 

So the Plantars decide to spend their final day with Anne at the aquarium, as it always cheered her up. This goes south as eveyrhting from the eels to the giant kraken to the coral reminds them of their past and leaves the poor group sobbing. Even a water show goes sideways as Sprig sees an eel, but it does lead to the group fighting off the stingrays at the show in an utterly stunning fight sequence. Not the best i’ve seen this month.. but only because I binged what I missed of rise of the tmnt this month and that show’s final figh tis an utter showstopper, as are most of it’s fight, but this is easily on par with most of them. Fluid, well done and emotoinal. Our heroes get thrown out of course, but the thought counts and they decide one last throughly them memory is better than nothing.  The final scene is naturally an utter gut punch as we get tearfull goodbyes (sprig and anne forever). Their crying, i’m crying we’re all crying and Hop Pop promises they’ll see each other again. Because family always finds each other. My heart.. it’s too full. here have an apporiate song...

Let’s see how i’m doing. 

Yeah so two things: I’m not going to be able to stop sobbing thinking of this scene so let’s move on and how have I only NOW refrenced gilmore girls on this blog?

But yeah the scene is utterly moving as the Plantars leave and Marcy realises something. She likely was keeping Anne close because she just got her back... but realizes she’s being selfish. It’s not SAID on screen but it’s clear both in Hailey’s voice acting and from the animation what’s going through her head. It’s utterly captivating stuff. So she tells Anne to go with them.. offically because they should have someone they can trust keep an eye on the box, which is a good idea honestly given just giving it to a royal messenger is just asking for it to be stolen. So Marcy will stay behind and prepare, and since she mentioned it before likekly try to find Sasha as she earlier stated they HAVE to find her.. and given what we see with the recharging that’s both because she misses her friend no matter what she’s done, and because she’s vitally important, while Anne goes with the Plantars to get the box and have some more time before they say goodbye forever, with Marcy coming to wartwood to pick it and anne up for the first temple. Because nothing terrible’s ever happened when a plucky youth with a sword went to three seperate temples, especially involving a guy with a beard and full plate armor. 

Marcy stares off, sad her friend and possible crush is gone.. but unederstanding that this is what she needs, and that she can’t hold her here.. Anne needs to see her family off.. and we get a tearful reunion as Anne chases after them, passing her friends from “Scavenger Hunt”, and reunites with her family. But of course we can’t end on a happy moment, as we cut back to Marcy whose utterly sad.. and the King who says he has a proposition for her, one she’ll find most agreable. 

But yeah we end on that bit of ominus as we close till october. 

Final Thoughts: Yeah if it wasn’t obvious this was a great one. Great plot progression, great animation, great emotional hook, good jokes which I dind’t get into for time, and tons of stuff to leave fans wanting more just before the break, but without a HUGE cliffhanger. Sure we don’t know what the King’s planning, but that aside our heroes are still together outside of marcy, and we haave a lot to look forward to whenever the show gets back. I’m hyped. Your hyped. IT’s a good note to go out on, especially since last weeks eps were also excellent and it looks like things are about to pick up. When next we meet it’s an inconsequential, probably, anthology episode, though it should be fun, then whenever new episodes return, wether it be just in november or more likely in February, our heroes return to wartwood! And we’ll find out what everyone’s been up to. Hopefully Ivy didn’t leave sprig. We’ll see. Until then, you can check out this blog for more recaps, as I said i’m covering ducktales as it comes back monday and loud house whenever I can get my meat hooks on the new episodes, and until then say safe and go team venture!

[dracula-in-purple-story]

Trick and Treat

The benefits of being underground heroes means no one would recognise you. A fact that three certain heroes (plus a sentient quirk) exploit it mercilessly. 

Halloween. An event where people of all kinds get to excuse themselves for pranks and indulged themselves with tooth-rotting candy. It’s also a certain event where two gothic-theme heroes are free to cursed their mothers for bringing them to life far too soon or far too late.

“That’s not a reason to cursed my in-laws, Fumi, Shi.” Shoji Mezou huffed before turning two of his appendages to mouths as to pecked his gloomy husbands. Shoji-Tokoyami Fumikage, who draped himself with a dark cloak and held a handmade scythe, fumed pettily alongside with Shoji-Kuroiro Shihai, who decided to wrapped themselves an equally as black bandages.

“Mezou love, I didn’t agree to marry you to hear you stand in defence for our mothers who let us down for the first time in the beginning of our lives.”

“Fumi’s right in a way. If only they could at least put in more effort on giving birth before the sacred event had ended-”

“Or wait a bit more longer-”

“Okay, guys. I kinda didn’t agree to waste my day off on listening to your brooding. So, could we get moving?” Ojiro Tooru wiggled around in her plain-white cloth while exaggerated her frustration, earning some laughs among her husbands.

“Take care and have fun, Ruru,” Mashirao softly spoke as he setting up the makeshift pillow fort around Hitoshi. The Ojiro husbands decided to spend their rare day off to watch horror marathon with the main Shoji patriarch. 

The invisible lady just giggled before dragging off the other Shoji husbands for their play dates. Mezou waved them off, even blew the sentient quirk a kiss back, before settling down besides the pillow fort. 

“Five thousand yens they come back with more candies than they are allow to have.”

“Six thousand.”

“Bet.”

“Toshi! Mezou!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Any gummy packets? All I got is candy corns.” the boy with four arms and dressed as Red Riot grimaced.

“Nope, I only got two packets of strawberry marshmallows and some Miruko-branded carrot candies, Red Riot Junior. What about you, Deku Junior?” the green-skinned girl dressed as Shemage quietly answered before glancing at the bulking boy with scales that dressed as the Symbol of Hope.

He smirked before lifting up his bucket, making the other kids jaw dropped. In there, three huge packets of Bakusquad-branded fruity gummies, five king-sized Fatgum-branded chocolate bars, two swirly red and white lollipops, and a box of bite-sized candy bars themed after Pre-Debut UA Class A.

“Impressive, huh?”

“No jokes, Ken- I mean, Deku Junior! How?!” the Red Riot ‘Junior’ tried to reach out before getting his hand slapped by the now-sneering boy.

“Don’t touch it! Anyways, I just roamed around the neighbourhood that filled with old farts who got too much money to spend. One glance at my mega awesome costume then they throwing me prizes after prizes!” The scaly boy exclaimed proudly as he showed off his goods, “Wish you have this amazing influence than some two-bits characters you two decided to dressed as!”

“You got some nerves insulting the chivalrous hero and the mushroom heroine, kid.” All three kids quickly turned towards the voice down the alley. Seeing that it’s someone who decided that draping a white blanket is a good enough costume, the boy scoffed rudely.

“What, blanket girlie, you think you have the rights to tell me off when you have a lame ass costume?” “Wrong, it’s an awesome costume!” the blanket girlie huffed out her chest proudly, “You just didn’t see what is under these ghost sheets.”

“Ghost sheets?” the green girl snickered, “Yeah, right.”

“Why don’t we check it out, eh?” the four-arms boy grinned at the Deku cosplayer, who smirked back as he reached out to pull the sheets. As he did so, the kids paled. There is... nothing under the sheet. Not even the girl who is supposed to be draped over. 

Suddenly, eerie radio screeches can be heard behind the ghost(?). Two little lights are flashing red at where the head are supposed to be located. The lackeys, scared out of their wits, dropped their buckets as they ran away, leaving the leader behind. 

“You took a look under my sheet, and now...” the ghost(?) floated even higher, “YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED! MUAHAHAHA!”

“AAAAA!” the scaly brute dashed off immediately after throwing his bucket at the ghost(?). As the boy disappeared down the street, Tooru immediately emptied out the buckets into her Invisible Bag, which is almost filled to the brimmed with her delicious loots. Hearing another group of little trick-or-treaters coming in her way, she immediately set into her position.

~~~~~~~~~~

This is just plain stupid. This horror story telling is too repetitive. The dead girl in the toilet. The spooky piano that plays on its own. The suicide forest. Sure they can scared and spooked Hanako at first but listening to these stories over and over again seems to lose its charm.

Her peers didn’t seem to think so. Sitting in a badly formed circle in the middle of an empty park with an electric candle right in the middle of the said circle. Some third-rated spooky music supposedly to put people in the mood to get scared. 

“... and there she sat, drinking the boy’s blood like a drug!”

“You sure this is a true story? Sounds fake.”

“Totes not! Search ‘blood drinking girl’, man!”

Even if it’s a true story, Hanako doubt the legality of the story. If this T.H. girl supposedly love this guy, she should kill those girls instead of the boy. Eh, she shouldn’t question it.

“Sooooo, who’s next?”

“Can I have a turn?” 

“Sure!”

A husky voice chuckled, making the horror-numb girl trembled. That was new to her, not one of her peers sound like that. Even her seat partners shivered too.

“Let’s see, anyone ever heard of a certain narcissistic man who killed anyone who said he’s ugly?”

Oh, this is new. Perhaps her peers didn’t disappoint her yet. After affirmation, the rasping voice continued. Due to the light is too dimmed, she was unable to see who’s telling the tale with such voice.

“There was once a man, with a face no one could ever compare to. His visual is second to none. Women praised him, loved him, worshipped him. Men hated him, cursed him, and some even fell for him.”

Hanako lighted up. A total original story! She listened with rapt attention, ignoring how her horny peers groaned and moaned at the suggestively rough voice.

“One unfortunate event is all it took for people to turned away from the man. An arson planned by envious men who couldn’t take it anymore, seeing their supposedly lawful spouses dreamed and loved a man that isn’t them. How envy drove them mad. The damage is dealt. His entire body is burnt to crisps and yet, he lived.”

The music stopped. Before the person in charge of it could fix it, it suddenly played an ominous song that she had never heard before. She didn’t know that the harsh-sounding peer have good taste in music. 

“Truly unfortunate it is. The once handsome man lost all his supporters in one whole swoop. His haters jeered and hurling faux-pity at him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapped in his measly black-burnt bandages, he asked each and every single one of the people, ‘Am I handsome? Am I gorgeous?’. People jabbed jokes at him before they get stabbed to death.”

Hanako is curling into her jacket as the air getting chilly. Weird, as inattentive as she was, no one have a quirk related to wind. Now she think about it, not even one of them have a husky voice, even the her male peers are just getting their puberty hit on them.

“One by one, they dropped to their death. Even children and the senile were not spared. The man went mad with his vanity spiralled out. He asked, he cried, he stabbed. Then, he came onto a group of teens who sat around in a circle telling stories after stories. Can I ask?”

The girl suddenly felt dread coursed over her body. She thinks some of her peers piss themselves. Before anyone could react, the electrical candle went off. Hanako quickly reached out to turned it on and, lo and behold, a man wrapped in black-burnt bandages stood in the middle of the circle.

“Am I handsome?” the man who owned said husky voice gleamed at them with flashing black eyes, “Am I... gorgeous?”

Screams could be heard throughout the neighbourhood. When people found the source of said scream, teens would either huddled up or straight up fainted. The only thing missing among them are the candies they collected. Hanako might cried a bit, but whoever that man is, he earned himself a fan.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Happy Halloween!” 

Waving off the kids, Mrs Gokudera beamed at her almost empty candy-bowl. Ever since her grandkids started their high schools, they almost never visit her in this lonely home, which makes this holiday truly joyful. Just as she was about to filled the candy-bowl with her homemade striped candy balls, her doorbell rang. Sighing blissfully, she opened up the door.

Instead of little children, few masked people appeared the other side of the door. Mrs Gokudera usually pleased to see that other people enjoyed the good old trick-or-treating but her quirk, Intentions, alerted her as she saw them with dangerously black aura. 

“Heya, old lady. Trick or-”

“Definitely trick, imbeciles.”

Interrupting the one who started to sprouted blades out of their arms, the group of masked people turned towards the other side. Mrs Gokudera couldn’t see who it was as the malicious people blocked her sights but she saw a white aura coming out from that person. Knowing she was in good hands, she immediately slammed her door and dialled the police. As she dare peeked out of the window, she gawked at a hooded figure fighting against people with an obviously fake scythe and a manifested shadow(?) that seems to basked in the chaos.

When the police arrived, the fight is over. The hooded figure and his shadow companion came out unscathed but his prop is broken. Sensing his frustration through a grey aura, Mrs Gokudera beckoned the bird-headed figure, who seems to finished his statement to the police.

“Hello, dearie. You okay?”

“Don’t worry, madam. We are perfectly fine. Although we had to cut short our fun due to this unholy festive spirits that decided to bother you.” the hooded figure solemnly nodded.

“Oh dear. Sorry to cause you trouble.”

The shadow companion seems to beamed at her loudly, “Don’t worry, lady! We are heroes! This is nothing!”

Ah, that explains why the police didn’t bother him for vigilantism. Clearing her thoughts up, she thanked him by giving most of her stashes. It’s really funny seeing how the bird-headed hero humbly accepted while the shadow just cackled in delight as they dumped the wrapped candy balls into their goody bags.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We are back, hubbies!”

“Welcome ba- why are there ten gigantic bags? Did you guys steal them?”

The three trick-or-treaters sheepishly chuckled as they got stared down by the tail hero. Behind Mashirao, Mezou handed a few paper money to Hitoshi, who tried to snickered quietly before got stared down by his disappointed husband too.

[heckyeahitsnick]

Her Soul is Like Magnolia

Written By: @heckyeahitsnick​

Pairing: Harry Styles/OC

Word Count: 20,979

Warnings: Some explicit/foul language

Summary: 

Magnolia “Mags” Rahman believes in hard science, has a tendency to stick her foot in her mouth, and is a lover of all things horror and Halloween. Harry Styles likes to toe the line between fact and fiction, strangers and friends, and normal and paranormal.  

Harry Styles has a ghost problem.

Mags has a Harry Styles problem.

An au where seeing is believing and everyone is trying their best to treat each other with kindness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 1: October 24th, a week from Halloween

“You’re stepping on my foot.”

Mags broke herself out of her stupor, visibly shaking her head. She stared at the person the voice belonged to, trying to orient herself and gather her bearings, and saw that it was her coworker, Liam. “Oh,” she murmured apologetically, “Sorry.” She was so exhausted at work, counting down the minutes until her shift was over at the campus bookstore so she could go home and curl up with Pumpkin, the adorable black cat she adopted only a month ago when it was love at first sight. Grad school was a vicious beast that she had yet learned how to slay. She probably hadn’t slept in the last 48 hours, busy with school, work, and occasionally binging B-rated horror movies on Netflix with Pumpkin. In her drowsy state, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions, like accidentally charging the last customer the wrong price, shelfing the Twilight series under the Biography section, and stepping on her coworker’s foot. She was just so tired.

“Okay? Thanks for apologizing? But you literally haven’t moved. You’re still stepping on my foot!” He pointed at her white sneakers atop his (knock-off) Timberlands.

She gave him a playful glare and replied, “You’re so high-maintenance,” before shifting away from him.

“Okay, well, I just came to tell you I’m headed home a little early,” he paused to eye her with vague concern, “Are you sure you’re okay to close up?”

She snorted, “Does my answer even matter? It’s not like you’re gonna offer to close up for me.”

He grinned good-naturedly, “Yeah you’re right. Makes me feel like less of a dick though.” Putting on his coat and gathering his backpack, he quickly headed for the door as if the devil was chasing him, ignoring the peace sign Mags threw at his retreating figure. Probably eager to go home and chug some beer, or like start a fire, or whatever it was that boys like to do. Mags wouldn’t know. She couldn’t possibly even attempt to understand the male psyche.

Like for example, Mags looked at the only customer in the bookstore, frantically pacing through the aisles and muttering incomprehensibly to himself. His curly hair was tussled and frayed, not in the intentional bedhead way that some people, like her ex-boyfriend, styled it in an attempt to look good but actually coming off as a douche, but in a way that indicated he’s probably been constantly running his hand through it. Probably exam stress, she mused, considering the boy’s current state. He was tall too, she observed, but that was overshadowed by his hunched shoulders, head facing down, and of course the frantic pacing.

“Dude. Are you okay?” Mags called out in a voice slightly louder than usual.

No answer, as if he didn’t even hear her. She realized she should probably be a bit more cautious. The customer honestly was acting very strange. He could probably be planning to rob the bookstore. She was the only employee left, her slight build and big brown eyes (which her friends called doe-eyed but Mags herself considered to look more like a fish) weren’t enough to intimidate anyone. She laughed softly to herself. Like anyone would rob this bookstore. College students never paid with cash and Mags probably had negative three dollars to her name and an even lower will to live. If someone held her at gunpoint asking her to hand over her wallet, she’d probably wouldn’t be able to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Besides, he looked like a college student himself. An English major, she guessed, considering his pretentious wool coat and heeled boots. She did a double take. Glittery, heeled boots apparently. She would know, she’s dated her fair share of them.

You’re being so foolish, Maggie-Girl, she scolded herself with the affectionate nickname she gave herself and that no one (read: especially Niall, her roommate’s, Marisol’s, boyfriend) was ever allowed to address her as.

The draft Liam let in earlier caused her to shudder. Wrapping her yellow cardigan tightly across her chest, she longingly gazed out the window. The weather was the perfect crispy fall weather, with orange leaves littering the sidewalks and she sighed, wistfully thinking about the brisk air sure to greet her as she biked home. If only the boy would leave, she could be on her way!

She glanced at her watch and decided, screw her self-preservation. She stepped out from behind the check-out counter and headed towards the boy. He barely noticed her, continuing to drag his fingers frantically through the spines of the books on the shelf. Mags just now realized they were standing under the horror section of the store. Weird.

“Hey, um, dude. Are you okay?” She asked with a voice that she hoped sounded professional and confident but probably came across as a mix of “wow-I-don’t-get-paid-enough for this” and “maybe I don’t wanna die?”

Her presence seems to finally break him out of whatever trance he was in. He looked up at her, taking Mags aback. He’s kind of cute, she thought, if she ignored the bluish-purple bags under his green eyes and his pink lips twisted into a frown. Potentially a robber, possibly a murderer who likes to creep out female employees in bookstore by having a near breakdown in the horror section, sure, but at least he was nice to look at.

“What?”

Mags gave him an ironic smile in return. “Ah, you speak! Thank god. I was beginning to think your only talents were to burn a hole through the carpet.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What?” he repeated in frustration.

Maybe I gave him more credit than he deserved she thought to herself. Out loud, she said, “Look. Technically, we’re closing in 5 minutes. You looked like you needed help. What’re you looking for? Maybe then we can both get out of here.”

His eyes darted nervously to the side. “A book,” is his brilliant reply.

“Yeah? I figured?” She said, stretching out her word because at this point, who cared if the boy could tell she thought he was ridiculous. This was definitely a strange scenario and she wondered if her own sleep-deprivation caused her to dream up this handsome boy with vague answers and possibly three functioning braincells. She briefly had a thought that this was like a reverse You situation, where he was the Joe to her Beck, but she quickly stopped her overactive imagination “Any book in particular?”

“Yeah, um,” the boy quickly straightened up and looked her in the eyes, as if he finally came to the realization that he was coming off a little odd, “I’m looking for a horror book. Obviously. But like, something non-fiction? Like about, y’know. Ghosts.“

“Ghosts?” She cautiously prodded, “but non-fiction? Like…paranormal accounts?”

“Yes! Like, I dunno, spooky shit. Stuff, sorry. Paranormal stuff about like haunted houses,” His eyes brightened, and his word tumbled out faster with a tinge of hope. “Hey! You wouldn’t happen to have a How-To book about how to cleanse a house that’s haunted?”

Mags tried. She really did try. Not the fake trying like when she tries to make it to her 8 am class every Tuesday morning and ‘accidentally’ snoozes her alarm. Not even the fake trying she does when Marisol makes her do sit-ups at the gym for their weekly (read: monthly) workout and she taps out after 5. But even trying her hardest meant she could not stop the laughter that escaped her mouth.

“Haha, I’m sorry, what?” She laughed, her face in disbelief and amusement, clutching her stomach, “You want what? What is this? Did you end up watching too many episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved ‘cuz honestly, I’m not sure you got the right bone structure to be Shane. You’re funny though, I’ll give you that!”

The laughter and words began to trail off because the boy, his face completely changed. The hopeful, pleading gleam that was in his eyes suddenly hardened in anger. Mags quickly tried to reign herself in, registering that he was not amused, and she’d accidentally offended him.

“I –“ She began, ready to start apologizing because she realized she completely read the room wrong.  “Forget it!” He cut her off, quickly stuffing the book he had in his hands back into the bookshelf.

“Whatever.” He peered at her nametag disdainfully, “Don’t offer to help if you don’t intend to, Magnolia,” spewing her name out like it was poison in his mouth.

“Wait! I’m sor – “

“Forget it. Sorry I asked!” He exclaimed, abruptly walking past her, his shoulders jostling hers and she whipped around to try and apologize once more.

But he left just as quickly as Liam did. Like the devil was chasing him.

Mags turned around and pulled out the book he had in his hands (and totally shelfed in the wrong place), trailing her fingers across the blue leather bound and golden imprinted letters. “Exorcism: Encounters with the Paranormal and Occult,” she muttered to herself, and then looked up at the door that the boy had exited from. “Nonfiction.”

She slumped against the bookshelf, mentally kicking herself. Why don’t you ever think before you speak?! She berated herself morosely. Had she taken a second to assess the situation, she would’ve registered his worried eyes and another emotion that she couldn’t quite place. Could it have been…fear? She eyed the book in her hand. What could that boy possibly be afraid of?

Her phone dinged with a text message. She pulled it out of her pocket and immediately groaned reading the message from Marisol.

Pumpkin just shat (shitted? shatted?) on the living room carpet J  Can’t wait ‘till ur home.

If Mags was an English major, she’d probably see an irony in this. Or like a metaphor, because she shat all over that boy’s concerns and like the shit was representative of like…. being a dick? But she wasn’t an English major. Obviously.

The only thing her soon-to-be-chemist brain could come up with was: well, fuck, isn’t karma a bitch.

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 3: October 26th - 5 days until Halloween

“Be honest with me. Am I gonna die?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Niall!” Mags exclaimed, shifting her backpack onto her other shoulder, “For the last time! I. Don’t. Know.”

“But look closely!” He pestered, shoving his arm into her face, whining. “Tell me this rash doesn’t look bad. It’s red! And like, rashy! And it itches, Mags, it itches so bad! I think it’s infected!”

She backed away from him and shoved the offending arm away, quickly muttering an apology to the guy in a suit and tie behind her, before facing Niall again with widened eyes (well, wider than usually because Fish Eyes, remember?). “Seriously, Niall, I really can’t deal with you before I’ve had my morning tea.”

“But I – “

She cut him off. “And rashes can’t be infected! Now can we puh-lease talk about something else? Anything else. I’ll literally discuss your sex life with Marisol right now if it means we can stop talking about your nasty-ass rash!” This time, she ignored the glare from the man in the business suit; she can’t be blamed for his eavesdropping.

While Niall, in typical Niall fashion (taking everything literally), began to recount a tale about his midnight rendezvous with Marisol, Mags let her mind wander. She impatiently tapped her foot against the floor, sparing another glance at her watch, while also giving her own mental nod of approval at the store’s festive decorations (fake spider webs and caution tapes that adorned the doors and counter). For a chain that had a slew of ridiculous redundant names for their drinks (she will always bemoan the fact that people don’t realize that a chai tea is literally translated to tea tea), they sure knew how to get into the Halloween spirit. The line at Starbucks was long she noted, and with four people ahead of them, she and Niall would be late for their lecture if things didn’t speed up. Mags just knew she should’ve made her own cup of chai this morning, but it never tasted the same as when her mom made it, and all it would do is make her more homesick.

Niall briefly interrupted her train of thought with a quick interjection, “Yo, Maggie are you listening to me,” to which she responded with a quick lie, “Yes!” followed by a “And don’t call me that!” with a soft jab to his ribs.

The gears in her mind shifted, wandering to the boy from the bookstore last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about him last night on her bike ride home, during her stern lecture with Pumpkin about the importance of using the litter box, all the way until she finally went to bed. What was he so scared of? She pondered while also still scolding herself for handling the situation absolutely in the worst way. Though she didn’t mean to, she doesn’t ever intend to come across as so rude and aggressive. She just had a knack for blurting out the wrong thing that made it hard for people to see that she actually had a heart of gold.

Well, maybe not gold, she thought. That was giving herself too much credit. To be sure, she interrupted Niall’s ramblings with a quick interjection, “Hey quick question. Would you say I have a heart of gold or like…a heart of bronze?”

He was used to her antics; his blue eyes didn’t even hesitate before meeting hers. “Are we using an Olympic scale? Like gold would be first place and like the kindest person ever?” Acknowledging her nod, he held his fingers to his chin, making the universal thinking face as he mulled over her question.

She barely heard his answer (“Maybe a happy medium, like a silver heart? You suck at first impressions but once ya get to know ya, you’re super sweet,” the blonde mused in the background) because something, or more like someone, caught her eye. She watched him walk past her, exiting the Starbucks. Her eyes locked in on a pair of glittery boots and trailed up a pair of black jeans, a burgundy hoodie, and finally, green eyes that looked even more sleep-deprived than last night if that was possible, until she stopped at the black beanie that did little to contain the escaping brown curls.

It was the boy! The boy from last night!

“It’s him!” She shouted to Niall, dragging him by the arm so she could catch the boy before he left, ignoring Niall’s cries (“Wait, we were next in line!”)

“Hey!” Mags shouted, ignoring the grimace of the man in the suit, as she chased after the boy with a disgruntled Niall slowly trailing behind. She followed the boy outside, desperate to get his attention. “Ghost boy!” she shouted, somewhat hysterically, “Wait!”

Finally, he turned around, just registering that the crazy girl running on the sidewalk was trying to get his attention. His eyes widened in surprised and then narrowed with recognition, as he frowned.

“I - What did you just call me?” He said, his voice huskier than Mags recalled.

“Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name last night. I needed to get your attention! I needed to apologize.” Her eyes took in his appearance. He looked even more haggard than yesterday. His face seemed sunken in and his skin dull. He was still really handsome, if her heartrate was any indicator, but he looked worse for wear.

“Look,” she continued, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to like, laugh at you or anything. Let me make it up to you! I can probably help you find the book you’re looking for! My conscious is like, really annoying, and I couldn’t sleep last night ‘cuz I felt so bad and I looked up a shit ton of books about hauntings. Nonfiction ones! For whatever mysterious reason you need them for.”

His brows furrowed and his frown deepened, “What?” He shook his head from side to side, as if to shake away his confusion, “Look s’all good. It’s fine. I’ll figure it out on my own,” He turned as if to walk away before adding as an afterthought, “You curse a lot, y’know?”

Before she could even respond, she was interrupted again (which was probably a good thing because her knee-jerk response was to say “No shit sherlock”) by Niall coming to a stop beside her.

“Mags, what the actual fuck? We were next in line!” He bent over slightly, resting his hands against his knees as he paused to catch his breath from the strenuous five steps he took from the Starbucks door to where she and the boy were standing. He looked up and nodded, “What’s up, Harry?”

“Hey Niall,” the boy, Harry, said as he eyed the pair of them cautiously, like he didn’t want anyone to think he could be associated with them. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Wait, Harry!” Magnolia cried out, making immediate use of his name, “Seriously, tell me what’s wrong! I can help!” But her cries fell to deaf ears as she watched Harry walk off, his shoulders in his seemingly perpetual slump, one hand jammed into his pocket and the other holding his coffee cup as he crossed the street.

“So,” Niall began, “Couple of things to unpack here. We don’t have coffee, I’m a little more out of shape that I thought I was, and we’re definitely late for class so I suggest we should just skip it and grab some food.” He finally straightened up and looked at Mags, as if was an afterthought, “Wait. How d’you know Harry? Did you sleep with him?”

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 4: October 27th, 4 days until Halloween

On days like this, Mags truly does take a second to appreciate the finer things in life. The fall foliage that lined the paved pebble pathways on the university’s campus only contributed to the magical spell of October. As maple leaves fluttered downwind and the cool wind blew against her skin, she embraced the enchanting atmosphere of the autumnal weather, taking in the beauty as college students hurried past her, a colorful, warm blend of red scarves, brown coats, olive sweaters, and all. The breeze that blew through her dark hair didn’t even bother her, when usually she’d be grumpy considering how long it takes her to tame the thick, wavy locks into an acceptable amount of frizz. Despite having an o-chem midterm waiting for her, she slowed her pace to truly enjoy the bliss she was in. Mags paused on the cobblestone to close her eyes and breathe in the cold air, a small smile slowly forming on her face. Nothing could ruin the feeling of contentment that she was feeling right now and –

“What’re you doin’?”

A deep baritone disrupted her. She stands corrected. Maybe she could be bothered. She took a longer second to herself, keeping her eyes closed and steadying her breathing before planning to huffily face whomever (whoever? Whomstever? Times like this really made Mags rejoice at the fact she wasn’t an English major) decided to ruin her moment of peace.

The same voice let out a chuckle. “Hey, are you planning to open your eyes anytime soon?”

It took her a second, but Mags recognized that voice. Ghost Boy! Harry! She whipped around towards the voice, her hair following along and sharply striking her face and shoulders as she settled her brown eyes on Harry. She was so happy to see him, even if he did ruin the coming-of-age, dramatic introspective Bollywood moment she was having to herself. Magnolia gazed at him, taking the surprisingly peaceful silence between them to truly assess him. His green eyes peered back at her, glistening from the cold breeze, pronounced by the dark purple bags that seemed to have worsened overnight. His cheekbones jutted out just below, and lower, his pink lips settled in an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, but she’d guess wistful if she had to. He seemed to be in better spirits, dressed in a chunky caramel cable-knit sweater. Maybe it was how cozily he was dressed or perhaps it was the softness enhanced by his sleepy demeanor, but Mags was hit by a sudden wave of endearment for him. For a boy she hardly knew! She shook off the weird feelings that washed over her and broke the silence.

“Harry!” She quickly recalled all their past encounters and decided to approach this conversation with a little less well-meaning aggression and exuberance. “Harry,” she calmly tried again, “I’m so glad you’re here. I really, really need you to listen to me. I am really and truly sorry I laughed at you the other day.” He opened his mouth to respond, but Mags bulldozed on, not wanting to lose her chance. “I – look, I have knack for saying the wrong thing but I promise that I really want to help you with –“ She paused as she realized she never knew what exactly seemed to be plaguing him, but persevered nevertheless, “with whatever it is that’s bugging you. I pinky promise I can help - somehow!”

He broke into an amused smile, one that Mags couldn’t help notice was a very nice smile at that. “Pinky promise, huh?” He prodded, “That’s pretty serious for someone who quite literally just met me and doesn’t even know what my problem is.”

“Well, whatever it is, just tell me! I won’t laugh!” Mags pleaded.

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise!” She said solemnly, her face somber, nodding with earnestness.

“Do you,” he paused, inhaling a deep breath, as Mags leaned in closer to listen, breath baited, eyes unwavering, “do you pinky promise?”

“Oh!” She swatted at him with a free hand as she realized he was teasing her, as he stepped away laughing.

“Sorry,” he smiled, not looking the least bit apologetic, “Couldn’t help m’self.”

They shared a small moment, each looking at the other with their own, soft smiles before

Harry suddenly straightened up, his smile vanishing just as Mags began to welcome the sight. His tone sobered, “I did wanna say m’sorry for being kinda a dick to you. I’m dealing with…something right now and I really didn’t mean to take it out on you, Magnolia.”

“Mags,” she instinctively corrected, “Magnolia is reserved for customers that I don’t insult.”

“Mags,” he repeated wryly, “I like that. Well anyways, just happen to pass you and wanted to say that.” He gestured to the papers she had forgotten were clutched in her hands, “Anyways, looks like you’ve got a test on…” He trailed off, squinting at her neat penmanship of carefully copied formulas and calculations, “rocket science or quantum physics or whatever those horrible numbers mean. Just looking at it is giving me a headache. I’m sure you’ll do well though.  G’luck!” He said, turning to leave.

“No wait!” She was not going to lose another chance. Truly, she did feel awful about how she treated Harry, but also, she didn’t want him to go for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. She liked his presence and didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. “Will you seriously tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

He considered her, his guarded eyes boring into hers for what felt like eternity, not even breaking contact when a boy with rounded hipster coke-bottle glasses and a plaid coat bumped against her shoulder without so much as an apology (friggin’ English majors she briefly lamented).

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded, running his hands roughly through his brown curls, “You think I’m crazy anyways and it’s not like my life can get any weirder.” He pursed his lips as he formulated his thoughts. Mags tried to be patient, resisting the urge to check her watch because she did actually care about her grades and she did have a midterm to get to after all and Niall was such a push-over he wouldn’t be able to save her a seat for much longer, but she had to hear what he had to say. Just as she was going to (gently, she swears) prompt Harry, he broke his contemplative silence.

“Um. Okay so basically,” he stalled, scratching at his hairline before spewing out in anxious, bullet-fast speech, “I um, pretty-sure-I-accidentally-summoned-like-a-demon-or-ghost-or-some-evil-otherwordly-spirit-in-my-house-and-now-I’m-being-haunted.

Brown eyes blinked in his directions. To her credit, Mags remained composed despite her thoughts that ranged from what the actual fuck, this boy is psychotic to my minority ass is not equipped for this situation to aww he looks kinda cute when he’s nervous.

“Yes,” in reality is how she responded, trying to maintain neutral as she organized her thoughts, her voice robotic, “I understand.”

“Yeah, see, I knew this was a mistake. I didn’t really expect you to believe me,” his hopeful expression fading to disappointment, belying his words.

“No! Okay, yeah I don’t believe you,” she confessed, “but,” brandishing her speech with wild gestures, “I can help you prove that your house isn’t haunted! That’ll like give both you and I peace of mind! Not right now, because I really do have to go kick some o-chem ass but like, later tonight? Take my number, text me your address, and we can like ghostbust the fuck out of your non-haunted home!”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Harry nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly but hey, she’d take it, Mags quickly gushed out her cellphone number as Harry’s thumb clumsily attempting to enter each digit and keep up.

Mags raced away, peeking at her watch and sparing a parting glance at Harry and calling out, “I’m serious Harry, if I don’t get a text, I will haunt you myself! And I am way more annoying than a ghost!” He smiled fondly in response, “I don’t doubt that. I swear I’ll text you,”

“Promise?” she shouted, as she retreated further away from him to her awaiting exam.

“Pinky promise.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Same day, later that evening

Mags leans against the bay window in the living room, watching the rain drops splatter against the window. A cup of chai in one hand, a worn murder-mystery novel in the other, with Pumpkin curled up against her feet hidden under thick socks, she truly felt content. Marisol had thrown a quilt over Mags legs earlier as the former left for work. Mags was so immersed in the book’s plot she barely gave the other girl an appreciative smile but she was sure Marisol knew.

She was pretty sure she aced her midterm exam earlier that day (and Niall was fairly confident that he didn’t fail so it was a win-win for all) and she was able to make some progress with Harry. The curly haired boy, whom she met for the first time a mere three days ago, seemed to consume a lot of her free time and thoughts.

He was just so curious, and skittish, and he genuinely did seem scared of something. Mags was a firm believer in science, statistics, hard, factual data. Give her an equation to solve or a statistical analysis to decipher over an essay any day. Even if she wasn’t a believer, she knew better than to laugh at others, even if her actions didn’t always reflect that. She had never believed in Santa Claus, being Muslim and all, but she’d been the one to comfort Kevin Vo in the first grade when the classroom bully had tried to convince others that Santa was fictitious. Likewise, even though she didn’t truly know Harry, she did believe that something was scaring him, and she was determined to figure out what it was. But one thing was sure, she positively knew it was not a ghost.

Her phone rang out with a small chime, alerting her of a text message.

Hey, It’s Harry. Harry Styles.

Before she could respond, her phone dinged again.

Or as you like to call me, Ghost Boy.

harry!! im so glad u txted!!!

I keep my promises. Are you sure you want to come to my house that is DEFINITELY haunted?

yes i do wanna come to ur house that is definitely NOTT(!!) haunted. send me ur addy.

Once receiving his address, Mags began to root through her closet for a warmer coat and umbrella. She grabbed her keys, gave Pumpkin an affectionate kiss on her furry little forehead, and gave herself one last look at the mirror. She almost found herself reapplying her mascara and running a brush through her hair, but she fought the urge. This is what she always looks like, and she wasn’t sure why she cared so much about her appearance for this friendly little demonic (but not really) excursion she was about to partake in. Certainly, she’s looked worse before. Liam has seem her adorned in her older brother’s shapeless, oversized sweaters as she hastily arrived seconds before her shift and Niall had seen her when she hadn’t showered in days, bra forgotten, her clothes stained, and remnants of last night’s dinner on her face (although, granted it had been Finals week).

As her blonde companion came to mind, as an afterthought, she shot one more text to Harry; just as a precaution because as attractive as he was, she didn’t know him that well yet. Though she doubted his heart was anything but sincere and good, she had to be safe.

also im bringin niall. the more the merrier rite?? (((:

Niall and Mags stood side by side on the property, their sneakers and boots respectively crunching the orange leaves that littered the lawn, as they gazed up. The house was huge, intricate, a stark contrast against the cloudy gray sky, and beautiful. Hauntingly so. If she believed in ghosts, Mags could envision how one would think this particular house was haunted. The brown and orange wood that made the exterior seemed to indicate that this house could creak when it wasn’t supposed to, the broken shutters revealing that the house holds secrets from its past, the surrounding black iron gates emitting a foreboding sense of doom.

But, she knew how to deal with facts. And the facts were that this house was old as shit and old houses liked to creak. She was sure that Harry probably just had an overactive imagination, which she was here to quell.

“Holy hell, you’re tellin’ me that Harry lives here? In this friggin’ place?” Niall let out a low appreciative whistle, “I’m definitely gonna have to convince him to host a house party here.”

She snorted in response, “Right? He couldn’t have lived in shitty student housing like the rest of us?”

They made their way to the porch, carefully side-stepping planks of rotting wood and loose nails. As Niall knocked, Mags sent a quick text to Harry alerting him of their presence. She’d filled Niall in when she picked him up for this adventure, letting him know that Harry was scared that this house was haunted and that they, soon to be scientists, were going to prove that it was all just hodgepodge. Blasphemous.  A figment of his imagination. And of course, Niall was game, as he always was, his laidback and flexible personality among the many traits that Mags loved about the Irishman. The door creaked open, groaning under the movement of shifting wood, as Harry greeted them with an appreciative smile.

“Hey. Come in. Thanks for doing this, honestly,” he ushered them inside, into the house, “though I’m not sure how smart this idea is, or why you’d be more equipped to tell if this house is haunted more than me, considering one of ya have literally drank yourself into a drunken stupor and became convinced that Big Bird was a part of a larger conspiracy theory.”

“Falsifications!” Niall boasted, while Mags yelled in her defense, “Hey that was literally ONE time!”

Both Harry and Niall shot her a concerned look. “Right,” she realized, “You were referring to Niall because we just met and how could you possibly know that about me? Haha. Moooving on.”

Niall and Harry amicably bickered in the background and Mags wandered off to take in her surroundings. She had every intention of taking off her heavy coat as she surveyed the house, taking in the wood floors, antique furniture, mosaic windows, and high ceilings, but there was a chill in the air, despite the burning fire crackling in fireplace. She turned to question Harry about the temperature, and his eyes were already on her, watching her take everything in with an unidentifiable emotion. Recovering from his unexpected gaze, she questioned, “Why’s it so cold in here? Trying to save money on bills?”

Harry seemed validated by her question, “See! So you notice that too! No matter how much I crank the thermostat or feed wood to the fireplace, it is always chilly in here.”

Niall nodded sagely, “Ah yes. A very common indicator that a house is haunted,” which caused Harry to nod enthusiastically in agreement in having found his kindred spirit and Mags to shoot Niall a look of annoyance.

“Or,” she interjected, “It could mean literally anything else. Climate change can be linked to more severe, harsher winters and this has certainly been a record-breaking cold October.” This, in turn, prompted Niall and Harry to shoot each other a look, as if to fondly say they found her adorable. Huffing slightly, she continued, “Okay, Harry, let’s get down to business. What else is making you think you’re haunted? Tell me everything.”

Harry nodded, “It’s a long story. Let’s get settled on the couch, I’ll grab us some drinks. This is going to be an interesting evening.”

Wine in hand (and a beer for Niall), bodies settled, and fire crackling, the trio sat on the rug and couch, eyes on Harry. He cleared his throat, an odd hush falling over them as he began his tale, “Well, let’s start from the beginning. The reason I even can afford to live in this house is because Bertha, the old widow who owns the place. She used to live here and took a liking to me, so she charges me cheap rent after her granddaughter took her to another state to live with her.”

“Gilf,” Niall responded nodding, as Mags inquired, “Wait, how did you even know Bertha?”

“We played Bingo together,” Harry clarified, which raised more questions, but he didn’t elaborate, “Anyways, I lived here for about a month, no problems other than the usually leaky faucets and the sorts. But one evening,” he broke off, lowering his head to focus on the arms of his sweater stretched over his palm, his fingers twiddling anxiously.

He looks so sad and worried. Mags instinctively reached out and placed a comforting hand on his knee, the warmth of his skin felt through his jeans, causing Harry to look up as she smiled in reassurance.

“Right,” he persisted, “Well, one evening, about a week ago, my friend Louis and I were having drinks and watching horror movies, as a little farewell celebration because he was going to study abroad the next day. Getting into the Halloween spirit y’know? We were drunk and shootin’ the piss, and Louis suggested we hold a séance as he had a Ouija board in his car.”

“He just happened to have a Ouija board in his car?” Mags questioned in disbelief.

“He’s odd like that,” Harry explained, coinciding with Niall’s comment “Yeah, that checks out. Sounds like Louis!” Once again, reminding Mags that Niall was such a social person, and of course he somehow knew this Louis character.

“So we were just being stupid, lighting candles and asking the Ouija board silly questions and really just goofing off,” the sound of the rain grew louder, the droplets slapping against the wooden house and glass windows, prompting Harry to raise his voice to be heard, “And off Louis went to Brazil the next day to study abroad. And over the next few days, things kept happening.”

“Things?” Mags encouraged.

“Things like…I would hear sounds in the night. The wood creaks like someone is walking through the house and I hear strange sounds like scratching on the walls. The lights randomly flicker,” He takes in a shuddering breath, his hands absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread form his sweater in apprehension, “and I dunno, a painting literally fell off the wall in the dead of the night. That is not normal! Sometimes, there’s a weird smell in here, like rotten eggs, and it doesn’t go away no matter how hard I clean or how much air freshener I buy. It is always so cold in here and I haven’t been able to sleep in days, because I feel like something is just…watching me. If I can sleep, it’s only for a little because I’ll have nightmares, or I find myself waking up in the middle of the night.” Harry’s voice gets louder and louder, becoming more agitated and fearful as he recounts, “I can’t take it anymore, but I’m stuck here until the next semester but I’m not sure how much longer I can last.”

A quietness overtakes them, as everyone processes the story. Once again, Harry breaks the silence, “I dunno what we did that night, but I think. I think we definitely woke something.”

Mags stared at him, her heart feeling for him and she so desperately wished she could just give him the answers. Her brain was in overdrive, considering what could be source causing all the strangeness. Sleep deprivation can cause a lot of symptoms, her mind raced, delirium, hallucinations, your cognitive functions skewed because of being loopy. Because she believed, that while he may believe everything he said to be genuine, there were other plausible explanations. Ones that didn’t include the paranormal.

“Well, we’re here for ya mate,” Niall promised as Mags murmured in agreement. “We ain’t leaving ya alone tonight and we’ll be here to hear anything strange.”

Harry exhaled in obvious relief, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Thanks mate,” he said, as Niall cheered and went off to grab himself another beer, leaving the pair alone, “And thank you, Mags. I just, can’t explain it, but I feel better just having you here.” Mags looked at him, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes. His words were sincere and made her feel warm despite the chill, alighting her nerves. “Of course,” was all she could muster in response, her voice thick with emotion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Day 5: October 28th, 3 days until Halloween

The rest of last night had passed in a similar fashion. They watched a B-rated cult classic on the Sy-Fy channel, played a rousing game of scrabble in which Niall of all people emerged victorious (the winning word with triple points: craic), and just swapping stories about their lives. It was fun, and Harry had looked the most relaxed that she had ever seen him. But when they woke in the morning, the mood was somber. Niall and Mags hadn’t heard a single peep the entire night, sleeping peacefully until morning, leaving Harry to fret over two options: the fear that he had gone crazy or that they wouldn’t believe him.

Mags was quick to dissipate both fears, assuring him that she would go home, shower, pack herself a bag, and come back again after work. If anything, she knew just having someone there with him helped Harry sleep better than he had in days, and although Niall wouldn’t be able to make it as he had a date night planned with Marisol, Mags wanted to be there for Harry. Harry was kind, Mags discerned, the way he had draped a blanket over her snoring figure last night and had given Niall his extra pillow. And the way she felt when he looked at her? She couldn’t describe. It was unlike any feeling that not even her past boyfriends made her feel, and it was simply small touches and gazes. She felt like a Victorian woman in the early ages, having to fan herself at the slightest contact, becoming undone and exhilarated when Harry had reached to embrace her in a hug earlier that day, his sweater rising to revealing his tanned, taut stomach and a peek of tattoos.

She drifted through work in a haze. She barely could recall any of the customers and she wouldn’t be able to you what she and Liam chatted about throughout her shift. She would get off in the evening, since she was closing again, and Harry insisted on coming to pick her up so they could walk back together to his home. Pumpkin lazily stalked through the aisles of the store, darting between the shelves and under tables as Mags watched in amusement. Mags wanted to bring Pumpkin along for their sleepover, and Harry thought it was a great idea because in his words, “A black cat would totally be able to sense if something was off.” Her bosses were never in the store and she knew Liam didn’t mind Pumpkin’s presence, if the fact that he had spent the latter half of the day cooing at her pink nose and soft paws, giving her belly rubs and half his lunch to share was any indicator.

Though she knew she was being silly, she mused as she kneeled on the worn carpet and shelved a stack of books, she couldn’t help feeling the anticipation and nervousness that usually precedes a date. But it wasn’t a date. She was just feeling this way because Niall wouldn’t be there and it would be just her and Harry in that big old house, alone together. If she was being honest, she would admit that she did wish it was a date. She found herself drawn to Harry, his caring personality and really taken by his dimples and all. His husky, low voice stirred something deep in her stomach, and when she heard the baritone in his throaty voice, coated with sleepiness earlier in the morning? She felt flush and wonderstruck, all at once.

But it wasn’t a date. Facing facts is what she did best. It was just two people on their way to becoming friends, working to prove that his house was not being inhabited by any spirits, that’s all. Completely platonic, normal stuff.

When it was 8 minutes to closing, Mags began to make sure that everything was put away so she could leave on time considering there probably wouldn’t be any last-minute customers, noting that Pumpkin was now currently snoozing near the cash register. She was deep in thought, dusting a particularly dusty shelf, secretly becoming more and more excited at the thought of spending more time with Harry.

“Boo!”

“Holy shit!” Mags’ heart jumped out of her chest, as she whirled around in fear, only to be met with a laughing Harry, one hand outstretched and grasping the bookshelf, the other across his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

“You’re an idiot!” She declared, without malice, shoving her shoulders against his. “Absolutely awful.”

“Y’know, for a girl who says she isn’t afraid of ghosts, you sure are quite jumpy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a girl, Harry. I have real things to fear. Like creepy men that come in here to harass me!”

His eyes flashed with amusement as he leaned against the shelf. “If you want me to leave, just say the word.”

Mags just smiled to herself in response, choosing to ignore his comment. “I’m almost finished up here and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Y’know,” said Harry, his tone become dramatic and teasing, “This is where we first met. When you first accosted me here, in this very aisle – “

“I did NOT accost you! You have to admit you were acting so suspicious!” Mags exclaimed indignantly. She straightened out one of the books and wondered aloud, “But it’s a bit crazy innit? That we just came into each other’s lives a mere four days ago?”

“Crazy,” Harry agreed, his sudden low and husky tone causing Mags to look up at him. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.��� His eyes caught her with an unrecognizable expression, and Mags stared back, unable to look away. It’s like she was in a trance. Harry takes a step towards her, closing the small gap between them, standing so close that she could feel the warmth exuding from his chest, could see the freckles that dotted his green eyes, could practically hear his heart beating in his chest. Now was it just her or was his heart beating very, very fast?

Another second passes between them and Harry brings up his hand, placing it affectionally against her cheek, as Mags impulsively nuzzles against his palm. He leans in, closing the virtually non-existence gap between, his eyes focused on her lips, and all she could think was Is he going to – Is this really happening?

“Please tell me you guys are still open!” An unfamiliar voice shouts, as a male college student races in, eyes frantic and voice desperate.

Harry and Mags spring apart, their bodies separating as they turned to face the newcomer.

“I’ve got a paper due tonight on a book that I haven’t read. Please tell me you’re open and that you have Shakespeare!”

“Y-yes,” Mags answered, her voice a little shaky as she avoids looking at Harry, “Technically, we’re still open for another 2 minutes. You said Shakespeare? Which one?”

The boy looks around, scanning the books in the aisle before answering, “William, I think.”

She lets out a huge sigh before finally looking at Harry. “I’m just gonna help this last customer and then we can lock up and head out.” “I’ll be waiting.”

She guides the customer to the classic literature section; On the outside, she was explaining how prolific of an author Shakespeare was but internally, she was still thinking about her interaction with Harry. They were already becoming so close. When people get close, Mags discovered from her 23 years on Earth, they find the things they like and appreciate about you. But it’s a double-edge sword. That kind of intimacy also reveals the unpleasant things, it gives the other an opportunity to see the all the little things that makes a person real. Real was messy and not always pleasant. What if Harry saw all the little things that made Mags real – her tendency to ramble, her need to always have opinions about everything that she often loudly expressed, her struggle to be emotionally vulnerable with others – and decided that she’s easier to admire from afar. It was always a fear of hers, one of those doubts deep within her heart that she’d never expressed, never spoken into existence, but that still dwelled profoundly within; the fear that the more you got to know her, the harder she’d become to love.

In the middle of asking the customer probing questions, and finally being able to deduce he was looking for Othello, she turned to look at Harry who was across the shop. Just like countless times before, she found that his eyes were already on her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Okay,” Mags twisted the key into the lock and pulled the door of the bookstore before turning to face Harry, “We are good to go.”

It took Mags seemingly forever to get the last customer checked out and out of the store. She and Harry seemed to have an unspoken agreement to not speak of whatever it was that almost happened between them.

Harry lifted the cat carrier up into his arms as Pumpkin let out an adorable little mewl, begging for attention. Harry stuck his finger between the bars, laughing as Pumpkin’s pink tongue darted out to lick his finger. “Well, how about this? We go drop Pumpkin off at my house and let her get settled. And then how about you and I go grab some dinner. There’s a diner nearby and I’m sure you’re famished,” Harry suggested, all the while playing with Pumpkin and not meeting her eye.

On the outside, Mags was cool, calm, and collected and she offhandedly remarked, “Sure” in agreement. But on the inside, she was a whirlwind of emotions. Dinner? Like a date? I’m not ready for this. I mean, I know I was just wishing this was a date but maybe I should have wished that I’d have the foresight to have changed into a top that didn’t have a coffee stain on it or to have applied some gloss before coming to work today. She felt so unprepared.

But then Harry’s looked at her when she responded affirmatively, his eyes shining happily and a broad grin overtook his face, and suddenly, she didn’t quite feel so panicked. It was as if he was nervous that she’d shoot his idea down. Anew with confidence, she stated, “Lead the way.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The diner that Harry had chosen was very kitschy, decorated in a way that heavy handedly embraced the retro 80’s vibe, with neon signs and polyester covers on the booths. The diner even got into the Halloween spirit, as evident by the fake bats that were hung all around the place, and the jack-o-lantern tablecloths covering each tabletop. Harry and Mags were seated across from each other, staring at the menu, as a male artist’s voice crooned from the juke box, singing about holding hands.

“So,” Mags began as she finished assessing the menu, “My options are either a hamburger or a cheeseburger. How ever will I decide?”

Harry laughed at her reaction to the limited food options. “What can I say? Don’t need really need too many options when everything tastes amazing.” Ordering a cheeseburger and coke for herself, Harry followed suit, and Mags inquired, “You come here often?” “Yeah,” Harry admitted, his fingers interlocked and resting atop the table, “I just really like the vibes. It’s also a 24-hour diner and I’ve been coming here more often within the past week, since I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Right. Harry’s haunting problem. She’d almost completely forgotten, but she wasn’t really to blame. Was she really supposed to stay focused when she and Harry had walked to the diner, their arms intertwined, chatting about anything and everything? When he sat only a few feet across from her, trying to catch her eye but also nervously looking away?

“Hopefully, you can finally start getting some rest soon enough. Maybe we’ll finally be able to put this whole ghost business to rest tonight,” she suggested optimistically.

He gave her a sad smile in return. “Hopefully,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he didn’t really believe that to be true.  

Her heart ached for him once more, so she decided to change the subject. “What song is this anyway? I kinda like it. It’s cute and – what?”

Harry regarded her strangely. “What’d ya mean who is this? It’s the Beatles.”

“Like the bug?” she joked, before quickly admitting, “I’m kidding, I know of the Beatles. I just don’t usually listen to this kind of music, now don’t go and have a heart attack,” she explained as Harry eyes had initially widened at her statement.

“So, what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

“I’m definitely a top 40’s kind of girl,” Mags responded, shifting in her seat. She thanked the waitress, who adorned a festive witch’s hat, as she set down their cokes and began to work on unwrapping her straw, planning to blow the wrapper at an unsuspecting Harry’s face.

“Top 40’s? What’s that?”

“Y’know,” she responded, “Like, the top 40 songs that are most popular on the charts. The songs that are always playing on the radio.” Harry held his hand against his chest, as if he couldn’t fathom anything worse. “You are so pretentious!” She laughed, “Those songs are popular for a reason!”

Harry laughed too, making sure to let Mags know that he was really just teasing her, no malice behind his mockery. “And just when I thought there was absolutely nothing wrong with you, you go ahead and admit to that.”

Mags couldn’t help her own smile from creeping across her face. “I’m far from perfect Harry.”

There’s a look of affection that seems to flash in Harry’s eyes and Mags flushes, not really sure how to deal with it. “Yeah?” he responds, looking down to swirl the condensation pooling at the bottom of his glass of coke, “Could’ve fooled me.”

The rest of their dinner passed by in a similar fashion. Comfortable jokes, casual conversations, and longing looks passing between them. It was the first time that Mags had ever seen Harry look truly happy. She decided it was a good look on him, and right then and there, she made a silent vow to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep that happiness. Even if it meant she’d have to face the devil himself.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Although Harry’s house was cold, it was still much warmer than the bitter icy wind howling outside. Entering his home, Mags immediately took off her shoes and coat, with Harry following suit. She looked to him to see where she should place her coat, and when he removed his dark peacoat and tossed it over an armchair, so did she. He was wearing a cranberry colored crew neck sweater, and he wore it well, leading Mags to ponder if his closets were just an endless supply of comfy clothes, each cozier than the last. Not wanting to be caught eyeing him, she shuffled into the living room, pausing to scratch Pumpkin under her chin, just like she liked it, and to drop her duffle bag onto the floor.

“There a bathroom just down the hall, if you’d like to change into your pajamas there,” Harry offered. He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just gonna, um, go in my room and change into mine to give you some privacy. I’ll meet you back out here and maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” she replied, somewhat amused. In the bathroom, she changed into her pajamas, which consisted of an old Maroon 5 shirt she had from years ago and a pair of soft fleece pajamas. When packing earlier that day, she had briefly considered wearing something a bit more flattering, but she realized it was futile because she liked to be comfortable when she slept, let alone the fact she didn’t actually own any proper sleepover, her pajama wardrobe made of oversized promotional t-shirts unsuitable for public wear. She washed her face and turned to face her reflection in the mirror. She gazed at her big, brown eyes, droplets of water tinting the tips of her lashes. Her warm tawny brown skin seemed dull and washed out under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting. Her dark hair was due for a haircut, and in its windswept state, wasn’t doing her any favors. She swept back her hair into a high ponytail, the stubborn baby hairs quickly reclaiming their rightful spot by framing her face.

Mags was never one of those girls that couldn’t acknowledge that she was pretty (not that girls who struggled with their beauty were less than, everyone had their own struggles. Mags was a large supporter of girls and wouldn’t speak ill of her sisters). She found that she did quite well with the male population, garnering attention when she so desired, and sometimes unwanted attention as well (looking at you, creepy Walmart man that had the audacity to comment on her big boobs just because she wasn’t wearing a bra). But then men she usually gave the time of day weren’t men of substance. Usually, she sought them out for something physical sans the intimacy. But something about Harry had her feeling self-conscious, unnerved. Raw. It was like he was appreciating her outer beauty but also truly seeing her, erratic enthusiasm and all. And even more baffling? He seemed to like what he saw.

Mags broke out of her reverie and found Harry lounging on the couch, remoted aimed at the tv as he flipped through channels. He looked up and automatically offered her one of his signature smiles, “You look lovely,” he commented nonchalantly.

“Thanks,” she responded reservedly. She joined him, careful to sit on the other end of the couch and looked around. “Where’s Pumpkin?”

“I put her on my bed,” Harry confessed, “Figured it’d be more comfortable than the hardwood floor.” “You’re gonna spoil her,” Mags snickered, “She’s used to sleeping atop the rusty radiator in my apartment.”

Harry and Mags quickly decided they should watch a movie, both wanting to stay in each other’s presence for a little while longer but struggling to find the words to express as such. Picking a movie, however, was a more difficult challenge as Harry felt that he’d had enough horror in his life to last a lifetime and couldn’t bear to suffer through another horror film, prompting Mags to put on “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” partially because she wanted to annoy Harry and partially because she just thought the move was really cute, okay? The joke was on her, because apparently Harry loved romance films and was really into the movie.

As entertaining as the movie was, both found their eyes wandering from the screen, looking at each other and quickly glancing away. Mags was very hyperaware of Harry’s presence on the couch, aware of his every movement. It was like her body was in tune with his. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t help himself. He automatically gravitated to her, like he was seeking out warmth that only she could give. Mid-movie, they found themselves to be sitting side by side, practically no space between them. If Harry wanted to, he could reach out and enclose her hand with his.

And he wants to. And so he does.

And she doesn’t pull away.

They don’t speak, just hold hands, the only source of light illuminating from the television. Neither saying a word in fear of breaking the moment. Harry finds that for the first time in a while, he feels safe. Safe and happy. He hopes she feels the same way. 

Needing to hear her voice, to get some reassurance, Harry breaks the silence once again, his eyes never leaving the scene playing out on the television. “I don’t get this part. Why is Lara Jean so scared to be with Peter? She’s so hesitant when he obviously cares for her and she does too.”

“I think it makes sense. It’s pretty accurate,” Mags responds, shrugging slightly. “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Because,” Mags bites her cheek in contemplation, “Love is scary, y’know? And letting yourself fall for someone? That’s…well, it’s terrifying.” “Not if it’s the right person,” Harry said with all the sincerity of an honest man, before quickly adding as an afterthought, “And obviously, Peter is the right person for Lara-Jean.” “Right, for Lara-Jean,” Mags agreed a little too quickly, “But it’s still scary nonetheless. Some guys aren’t all that great. It’s hard. To trust someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability, to let them know every part of you, and trust them not to hurt you.”

Harry broke the spell. He no longer referred to the characters and implicated himself. “Y’know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, right? I…I care about you. You do know that, don’t you?”

As she peers up at him through her lashes and meets his widened eyes, she becomes mindful of how close they had leaned towards each other. She fidgets under his intense gaze, his green eyes piercing through her own. She feels the warmth of his hand on her thigh as he inches closer until his forehead rests against her. A loose stray curl tickles her cheek and his lips just barely brush against hers. She hesitates for only a moment before deepening the kiss, pressing her lips against his forcefully. He pulls away, his pupils blown and the smallest of smiles playing on his lips, and his eyes scan her face for reassurance. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find because he rushes to close the gap and his soft lips captures hers again. She responds eagerly and her hand cups the nape of his neck. His tongue lightly sweeps across her bottom lips before slipping into her mouth, making her hum in approval.

He gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the couch. He breaks the kiss for only a moment to pull off his t-shirt and toss it carelessly across the room before swinging his legs over her until he’s practically straddling her. One hand flies to his head, pulling at his curls as the other rakes it’s fingernails into his shoulder. She angles her head back and lets out a sharp intake of breath as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down her neck. She feels the hand resting on her lower back slide up and swiftly unclasp her bra. His hands explore her body until he’s palming her breast, grazing her nipple and rolling it between his fingers, making her gasp. Harry always thought of himself as an ass man, but now, in this moment, he has a newfound appreciation for breasts. Her tongue darts between his lips hungrily and he pulls his body closer to hers, grinding steadily. She can feel her whole body on fire, the tingling sensation spreading to the pit of her stomach. Her hands immediately go for the band of his pants, but she breaks away suddenly, and he outwardly moans at the loss of contact.

“What – What is it? Are we moving too fast?” Harry questions, panting rapidly.

Mags places a hand against his chest, as Harry allows her to push him upright and she follows suit, both now sitting up.

He would never forgive himself if he had pushed her and scared her away. “We can slow down. I didn’t mean to –“ “No, shhhhh,” Mags harshly shushed him. “Don’t you hear that?” And suddenly, they’re still, unmoving like stone. The house just as quiet as the two, the only sound filling the air is their own ragged breathing stabilizing. In the silence, just as suddenly, another loud creaking resounded against the wooden interior.

“Okay,” Harry said anxiously, his eyes wandering upwards from where the sound was seemingly coming from, “I heard that.” “Do you think it’s Pumpkin?”

“I’m gonna go with no, considering Pumpkin’s right there by the fireplace.” And sure enough, Mags turned to see her kitten had at some point, bounded into the room and found comfort beside the warm flames.

Then an even more frightening sound could be heard. Mags would describe it as heavy, a hefty thumping sound that was very different from something that could be explained away, like the light scurrying of a rat.

Harry would describe it as footsteps.

It was irrational. Mags couldn’t explain it. She didn’t know what making that sound, but she did know that the sound was frightening her. She couldn’t rationally chalk it up to the characteristic creaking of an old house or wood settling, the thumps were too loud, too sporadic. Logically, she knew she should use the flashlight on her phone and go straight to the sound source. But the fact of the matter is, she’s scared. 

Just when she began to steady her racing heart rate and begin to think she could work up the nerve to go investigate the sound, a sudden crash came from the other side of the room, causing her to yelp in surprise and clutch Harry’s arm in fear. One of the picture frames that Harry had hung on the wall fell on to the ground, the glass shattered from the impact. It just fell. Nothing to cause it, as if the material had literally leaped from the wall to its untimely death. “Fat load of good you are,” Mags glared at Pumpkin who, unbeknownst to the danger, was playing with a discarded bottle cap.

Harry put in quick work to shrug his sweater over his shoulders, and then taking care to ensure that Mags wasn’t too frightened. “Well, at least now you believe me?”

“Believe you?” Mags asked in disbelief, facing him “I more than believe you. I think, I think we should get outta here. Let’s just go stay at my place.” She frantically stood up, brushing her stray hairs from her face, trying to clear her mind so she could form rational thoughts. Harry stood up just as suddenly, standing next to her, holding her elbow and shoulder, pulling her towards him in a comforting hug. 

“We need to come up with a game plan,” she said, her breath slightly muffled as she nuzzles her face against his sweater clad chest. “I think it’s best if we just spend the night at my apartment. And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Harry questioned encouragingly. 

“We’re going to do whatever it takes. A cleansing. Research. Anything to un-haunt this house, because this shit? It’s scary.”

They both spared one last glance upwards, to where the sound was coming from, an array of emotions filling the room; frightened (Mags, because ghosts can’t exist, they just can’t. It transcends the rules of physical science!), agitated (Harry because how could he be so dense as to put Mags in danger, though he figures that once she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her), and confused (Pumpkin, wondering why the humans were looking up when she was right here, as she softly mewls from the lack of attention).

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 6, October 29th, 1 day until Halloween.

The sun filtered in through the linen curtains, illuminating the white sheets beside her, warming her skin and giving her a bronze glow. Mags slowly peeled her eyes open, immediately noticing Harry’s absence. His side of the bed was empty, and Mags wasn’t sure how to feel. Was it really just a few hours ago that her world was shook by the presence of ghosts? If science wasn’t solid, then what else was there to rely on?

Once they got to her place, they were both too strung-out and tired to do anything. They shuffled under the covers and slept in her small bed, sleeping together in the most innocent way possible. The only touching was the hand holding that occurred under the bed, which although much less risqué than what happened last night had it not been for the potential ghost encounter, the thought of which still made Mags warm and blush. Stretching out her limbs and gathering her relentless hair into a manageable bun, she created an itinerary for herself. Bathroom first. Find Harry, second. Figure out what happened last night, third. Although she wasn’t so sure about the last one. Did she want to figure out the ominous sound they heard or figure out exactly what happened between her and Harry last night? All she knew was, it was way too early for this.

Once emerging from the bathroom, she tuned into the sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, immediately deducing Harry’s whereabouts. She knew it couldn’t possibly be Marisol, because she’d never be up this early, and she knew she had spent the night at Niall’s place.

His back was facing her, his shoulders moving as he poured batter into a frying pan, Pumpkin nuzzling against his ankles. Mags didn’t even know they owned a frying pan. Marisol and Mags mainly lived off of frozen dinners, take-outs, and Niall’s generous discounts at the café where he occasionally moonlights as a waiter.

“G’morning,” she croaked, alerting Harry to her presence. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Mornin’, Harry. What’s all this?” “I’m making pancakes,” He turned, greeting her drowsy appearance, his voice thickened with lack of use, guttural and raw. “Ran out to the convenience store this morning and grabbed some ingredients. Figured we could both use a hearty breakfast.”

Mags hummed in appreciation, rubbing a sweater-clad fist over her dreary eyes, sleepily offering help which Harry firmly denied and directed her to sit at the small kitchen table. “Are the pancakes chocolate chip?” “Is there any other way?” Harry responds, smiling warmly at her sleepy antics. He sets a plate of scrambled eggs and chocolate chip pancakes in front of her, placing a bottle of syrup within her reach without her having to ask.

Mags suddenly felt out her element. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment with any guy she had ever been with, and she technically hadn’t even been with Harry. Was she meant to kiss him in appreciation? He was so tender in everything he did, always putting her needs and comfort first. The situation was foreign to her, so domestic and comfortable that it made her feel uncomfortable. “Um, thank you – It all looks delicious,” she finally managed to stammer out.

Harry carried his own plate of food in one hand, his other opening the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. Witnessing how comfortable he seemed to be in her small apartment made her unnerved, but it was also exciting. Thrilling.

As he sat across from her, their eyes met once again. “I figure,” Harry began, “I mean, I think that we should probably talk about what happened last night. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mags agreed, nervously wringing her fingers, “Good idea. It…scared me. Um, I didn’t like it.”

Harry’s face blanched for a moment before he smoothed his features into an expressionless façade. “You didn’t?”

“Of course, I didn’t, it was just so…I don’t know how to put it. It all happened so fast, one thing after the other. It’s a lot to process.

Harry nodded slowly, gently, as if Mags was fragile and he was handling the situation delicately, although she couldn’t figure why. “It is a lot. And it was a bit fast. Maybe we need to just slow down and figure out what it meant?” He suggested nervously.

Mags eyed him in confusion, his apprehensive demeanor puzzling her, as she continued speaking. “It was just so unexpected. I didn’t think that was going to happen when I went to your place last night. It was so awful.” Harry’s brows furrowed together, looking wounded, as he murmured, “I mean, well me neither but I don’t think it was necessarily a bad th-“ “What do you mean you weren’t expecting it?” Mags probed, pausing to chew her scrambled eggs, “it certainly seems like you were positive that it would happen.”

Harry’s face, despite his efforts, flashed with hurt. “Well, I mean, I hoped it would happen but of course I wasn’t expecting anything. I just –” Abandoning his food, he rubbed his hands over his curls, then dropped them to rest against his knees, palms up as if pleading, “Look, I really, really like you and obviously it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but I really thought - ”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?” Mags questioned in confusion, wondering if perhaps Harry, as cute as he was, might’ve been a few screws short. Guess people truly can’t have it all.  

Meanwhile, Harry’s own face contorted in confusion, his voice borderline hysterical. “What do you mean who says, you says! I mean, you just said that you didn’t like what happened last night.”

“Right,” Mags nodded empathetically, “The noise we heard really scared me and I think it’s quite normal to not like the fact you have an actual fucking ghost in your house.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Did you think I was talking about, whatever happened between us?” Mags clarified, gesturing at their bodies. When Harry offered a sheepish look in response, Mags smiled with fondness, putting her fork down on her plate. “You’re silly. Let me be clear. Ghosts? Bad. Harry and Mags? Good. I’m not sure exactly what happened between us last night, but I like you. I think it should happen again, minus the paranormal encounter. Not just the, erm, the touching part. The diner part. The talking part too. We can table that for now and come back to it when we aren’t in fear of lurking ghosts. We can figure that part out together.” The relief that washed over Harry couldn’t have been more evident. “Oh thank god, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” and when Harry was happy, Mags couldn’t help but think that the sun was trapped within him, warmth, comfort, and blinding brightness and all. “And um, what about the other thing? The ghost thing?” Mags beamed at him, at the 6-foot boy that towers in her small apartment but looks over at all five feet of her with concern and care, before replying, “We can figure that part out together too. I have a game plan.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the tenderness and confusion of their morning breakfast, Harry and Mags got dressed for the day, each renewed with a determination to solve this ghost problem of theirs once and for all. It wasn’t just Harry’s problem anymore. Harry’s safety and happiness were now Mags’ priority as well. Cleaning up and getting dressed took a little longer than usual, as they spared moments to steal glances and accidental touches. By the time they made it out of her apartment, the sun was brilliantly shining in the sky, for once the skies clear of any clouds, and it was noon.

Mags truly did have an anti-ghost plan. And she intended to put it to use before tomorrow. It was as she explained to Harry, that tomorrow was Halloween, and everyone knows that on All Hallows Eve, the world between the paranormal and normal collided. Her extensive repertoire of horror movies led her to confidently assert that the if the dead were to roam the earth, then Halloween would be the best night to so do. She figured that now since science and everything she’s ever known has changed; she might as well rely on literature to guide them through this ordeal.

“So, first on our agenda is to seek out a priest,” Harry commented, eyes squinting at the sun, hand firmly holding hers. “Which church should we go to?” “Askin’ the wrong person here,” Mags chuckled while gesturing to herself, “Nearest mosque, I could help ya with. But church?” “Right,” he said, blushing despite her obvious joking tone, “Well, I guess we’ll have to trust google?”

Finding the church was easy enough. Getting the minister to believe that they weren’t pulling a prank was a little trickier. After much clarification and pleading, they left the church armed with some information.

“I dunno about you, but this bottle of holy water has me feeling a bit indestructible,” Harry joked, wagging the holy water tauntingly. Mags owns hands clutched the pewter candlestick holders and candles the church had generously donated to them. Though they had initially hoped for the church to interfere with their dilemma, the resources and tips they provided would just have to do. “Although,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows, “I must say, I’m surprised.” “Why? ‘Cuz I thought of such a brilliant plan?” “No. I’m shocked that you were able to last that entire trip to the church without swearing even once.” Mags opened her mouth, feigning offence, before shoving him. “So, what’s next?” Harry questions, after composing his laughter, “A psychic?”

“A medium,” Mags corrected.

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a difference,” Harry admitted good-naturedly.

“Me neither,” Mags confessed, but google sure did.

As they followed the GPS directions to the location of where the medium was located, Harry had another question. “How’d you pick this medium? Does she specialize in ghosts and exorcisms?” “Hmm?” She said, looking up, “Oh no, she just had the best Yelp rating.” She scrolls through her phone, thumbing through the device before presenting it to Harry. “And, she’s got a Halloween special going on right now. 50% off for her services. Pretty crafty of me, huh?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The medium, a woman named Clair LeMadeline, had looked relatively normal. Her red hair curled into define ringlets and her eyes were a piercing blue. She was wearing a simple pea blouse and black slacks. The only thing that was even considerably odd about her appearance was her green eyeshadow, bold and unnaturally glittery. She was a stark contrast from what Mags was expecting, which was a woman, possibly raven haired, with a crystal ball in a dark room with thick purple drapes.

Even more so, she had hoped the woman would be able to help them out a bit more. For someone who claimed to have a unique ability to hover between two worlds and a connection with spirits without a physical body, she wasn’t really helpful.

Mags recalled the only bit of information that was slightly useful. Clair had taken Harry’s hands into her own, hoping to get a ‘read’ on his aura.

“Ah yes,” she had said, her sharp nails outlining the lines on Harry’s palm, “I’m sensing something here. I see that recently in your life, you’ve come upon some suffering.”

“Yes!” Harry fervently nodded, with Mags reservedly watching from his side.

“Your future,” Clair continued melodramatically, her eyes tightly shut as she focused, “it’s blurry. Unclear. I see, red liquid. Lots and lots of red. It’s staining your shirt, dripping onto your shoes, there’s so much red.”

Harry’s face pales, dread overcoming him, as he frantically tightens his hold on the medium’s own hands. “Is it blood?”

“Hard to say, but my best guess is that it is indeed blood. Yes, I can see that. And, you’ve suffered a great loss. I also see here that you’re a widower.”

“Erm, no,” Harry confessed, pulling his hands back slightly, “I’ve never even been married. Way off base.”

The medium had looked slightly put out with that comment, “Well, I never. Surely you must’ve been married. With those dimples and a body like that, you’ve probably had your fair share of wives. You don’t have to lie to impress your little girly over here,” she harrumphed, gesturing towards Mags.

“Okaaay,” Mags announced, offering the medium a tight polite smile, “I think we’re done here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“That was a waste of time,” Harry groaned. “She was obviously a scam artist. Also, I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.” He glanced at his watch and groaned even more audibly, “And we’re running out of daylight. Halloween is tomorrow. What are we gonna do?”

“That woman certainly was…a lot of things,” Mags said, carefully choosing her words, “But she was surprisingly helpful.” Harry brows furrowed, his face distorting in disbelief. “Think about what she called you,” Mags explained, answering his unasked question. “She said that you were a widower.” “And you believed her?” He explained, “Mags, I’ve never – “ Huffing slightly, she interrupted his speech, “Okay, no. Obviously, I’m not an idiot. But that just got me thinking. Didn’t you say Bertha was a widow? Do you know anything about her husband? Maybe we can look into his death. Maybe his spirit was awoken by the Ouija board and it’s restless for some reason and unless we help him with his unfinished business, he can’t pass over to the other side.” “You’re a genius,” Harry commented, which prompted Mags to thank him and inform him with sincerity that it was all because she watched a lot of Buzzfeed Unsolved. “I don’t know much about her husband, but I know how we can find out more.”

And that’s how Harry and Mags found themselves standing on the steps outside the town’s public library. Harry’s idea was brilliant, Mags had to admit. The town newspaper always printed the obituaries for residents that passed. Older editions of the newspaper could be accessed using the microfiche. Even more promising was that if Bertha’s late husband had passed under unusual circumstances, the paper was sure to have done a story over it. But even with a great idea put into action, and their hopes and spirits renewed, Mags couldn’t help the nauseous pit growing in her stomach.

As they embarked up the steps, Harry looked over at Mags in concern. “You okay there? You look a little green.”

“Hmm?” She feigned ignorance, “No, I’m fine.” Harry opened the door, ushering her inside before stepping into the heated building. “Must’ve been something I ate.” “My pancakes have you feeling nauseous?” Harry exclaimed in concern.

Oops. Right, Mags had forgotten that the only thing she’d eaten today was Harry’s cooking. This was why she hated lying – she was bad at it.

“Hush, Harry,” is the route she decided to go with, “We’re in a library. We don’t wanna disturb the other patrons.” She gestured to the room, mentally groaning when she saw that the library was jam-packed with three other people, a young girl and her mother were fiddling on the computers, and an old man that was sleeping on one of the armchairs. Or, at least Mags hoped he was sleeping. One would think the library would be more popular on a Friday night.

Harry shot her another concerning look but chose to drop the matter, for now. In fear of being shushed again, he gestured to the circulation help desk, indicating that they should ask one of the library assistants where they could find the catalogued newspapers. As they approached the desk, Mags legs felt like they were heavy lead as she dragged them across the carpeted floor. She just needed an excuse to slip away for five minutes and then this upcoming crisis could be averted.

She stopped in her tracks, spinning around to face Harry. “I, um, need to go to the bathroom. It’s an emergency. Not that you asked,” She nervously chuckled. “Anyways,” she pushed Harry’s back towards the help desk, “Why don’t you ask where we can find the newspapers while I’m gone and I’ll just meet you there and – ” “Magnolia?” The voice came from behind her, just as smoky and honeyed as she remembered.

She froze in her tracks. This cannot be happening. I’m a good person she thought, I fast during Ramadan. I try to be nice to others. I’m fairly sure that I pay all my taxes. Why is this happening to me? Would it be too late for her to make a run for it? She could just tell Harry it was an emergency and then meet him back at his house once he acquired the information.

Just as she began to inch towards the exit, the voice called out again. “Magnolia, that is you! I thought it was. I’d recognize you anywhere. ” Ignoring Harry’s look of confusion, she turned around reluctantly. She looked at the other boy, his dark hair perfectly styled atop his head, not a strand out of place. His cheekbones sharp and proudly protruding, his lips slightly turned into a familiar smile. Unlike her, his brown skin didn’t seem to have a problem with dulling under florescent lights, as he was golden and glowing. One tatted arm reached out to embrace her in a hug, pulling her softly against his chest, before pulling back to get a look at her. “You look good,” he professed, looking at her intently form head to toe, “Beautiful like always.” From her peripheral, she could see that Harry certainly didn’t like that, if his body language was any indicator as he crossed his arms and shifted his stance to stand closers to Mags.

“Zayn,” she greeted, trying to modulate her voice and stifle her feelings of panic. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “At the library?” Zayn questioned, “Where I work?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” She nervously answered. Just as she was going to grab Harry’s arm and steer them away from the upcoming train wreck, Harry himself piped up. “I’m sorry. Mags hasn’t introduced us. Who are you?”

Zayn looked at Harry, as if he just registered that Mags wasn’t alone. “This is Zayn,” Mags answered quickly, “He’s my –”

“I’m Magnolia’s ex-boyfriend,” Zayn interrupted, reaching over to shake Harry’s hand, muscles tightening, jaw clenched, “She and I used to date.”

“He knows what ex means,” Mags hissed.

“Oh really?” Harry responded, his face unreadable, “Funny. Mags actually hasn’t even mentioned you.” His emphasis on her preferred nickname was evident to both Zayn and Mags, because Harry was as subtle as horse. “I’m Harry.”

Mags, despite the train wreck happening before her very eyes, was relieved that Harry introduced himself. She didn’t know what title she would’ve given him. She didn’t even know what they were. They were in some weird limbo until this ghost mess was past them. What would she have said? Harry piping up saved her from the verbal onslaught that would’ve been sure to follow. Hi, yes Zayn, my ex-boyfriend who broke my heart, this is Harry, a boy that I almost slept with and really want to sleep with but haven’t yet because I was cock-blocked by a ghost. Anyways, can you point us to the non-fiction section?

“Um,” Mags spoke, breaking the palpable tension, “While we have you here Zayn, we could actually use your help with some questions.”

Ignoring Harry’s disgruntled expression and Zayn’s self-satisfied smirk, she continued on. “Aren’t you doing your senior thesis on like witchcraft or something of that nature?”

“It’s on magical realism and occult fiction,” He clarified, before giving her a sly smile, warmer and more comfortable than his smirk, looking more like the Zayn she knew. “Y’know, all that haram and Jinn stories that used to bother the hell out of ya.”

Despite not wanting to, she couldn’t help but smile in return. “Right,” she warmed at the mention of their insider, “Well, we could use your help. For your research, did you come across anything about how to perform an exorcism on a house that’s possessed by a ghost?”

Zayn, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye at her odd question. He was used to Mags’ antics. “Yeah, from what I’ve read, the best bet is to light some sage. Ask the ghosts what they want and try to get them what they need, and they’ll leave.” He paused as if he truly registered what he just asked her, and then eyed Harry suspiciously. “But I know you. You don’t believe in that kinda stuff.”

“It’s nothing,” Mags lied, wanting to end this conversation, like, five minutes ago. “Can you tell us where the newspaper archives are? Ones from like 10 years ago?”

Heading towards the corner of the library that Zayn pointed them to, Harry and Mags walked in silence. Unable to take it anymore, Mags spoke up. “So, that was Zayn. My ex-boyfriend. But you already know that.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Harry assured her. And it seemed like he truly meant that sentiment, his voice unwavering and genuine He didn’t seem the slightest bit accusatory, no hint of sarcasm lining his tone, which was so unlike what she was used to when she was dating Zayn. Not that she was dating Harry, but she and Zayn had a knack for being able to get under each other’s skin. Had the roles been reversed, Zayn wouldn’t have let that interaction go, hounding Mags for more answers to impossible questions until they’d inevitably get into another one of their infamous fights. Zayn was an English major, through and through, envious and passionate. He felt deeply as an artist and fought just as dramatically too.

It was the fact that Harry was nothing like Zayn that encouraged her to share. “No, I want to explain,” She insisted, as they carried a stack of newspapers to a table, ready to dive into their town’s obituaries. “Zayn and I, well, he and I dated for a good while. It was one of those things where, when it was good, it was really good, y’know? But when it was bad? It was awful.”

Harry encouragingly nodded, his green eyes looking to her in sincerity, letting her tell the story at her own pace. “Well,” Mags exhaled, “It was serious. One of the most serious relationships I’ve ever had. But it didn’t work out. Obviously. We were just too different. We both retreated when we were hurt and angry instead of talking things out. And it wasn’t just his fault, it was both of ours. It wasn’t anything dramatic or serious. We just broke up because we never really tried our best, never gave our best effort to fix our problems.” She recalled the months after the end of their relationship, Mags tried her best to hold it together, but it really did wound her. “The break-up still sucked though,” she admitted. She may act collected and composed, but when she does let someone into her heart, it’s different. If it wasn’t for Niall and Marisol, she wasn’t sure if she’d have gotten through it.

Harry placed his hand atop of hers, taking care to look into her eyes. “He’s the guy that broke your heart, isn’t he? The reason that you’re scared to be vulnerable with someone.”

Mags kept her gaze on the stack of newspaper, unable to meet his eyes, wordlessly nodding in affirmation.

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me,” Harry said earnestly, reaching over to put a finger under Mags chin, turning her face so they were looking at each other. “Thanks for being vulnerable with me.” Mags raised her gaze, smiling at the kindness of the boy who sat across from her, unsure how to respond.

She needn’t worry though because she didn’t have to reply. “Anyways,” he continued, “We have a ghost to get rid of. Let’s get to looking through this decade’s worth of obituaries.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As they started to head back to the house, Mags was a ball of nerves, filled with anticipation. The trip to the library had been a success. Mags was able to find Bertha’s late husband, Tom’s, obituary. It simply stated that he passed due to a head contusion, with no information on how it occurred. News must’ve been slow that week because Harry then found the real treasure: an investigative article that revealed more information about Tom’s death. They discovered that Tom and Bertha had gotten into an argument, over something silly as she had to remind him multiple times to check the circuit breaker in the basement. Tom had begrudgingly gone to do so when one the wires in the breakers shocked him with a small current of electricity. The electrical shock didn’t kill him, but it did surprise him enough so that he stepped back, falling over and hitting his head on the edge of his workbench. The death was quick and painless, the article assured readers, but Mags still felt awful while reading it. Poor Tom, she thought, and poor Bertha. Even more so, it was a bit unsettling to Harry that a death had occurred in the house in which he was currently living.

As they had prepared to leave the library earlier, armed with knowledge and a secure plan to conduct their exorcism, Zayn had caught up with them, giving Mags a bottle of sage that he had lying around in his office that he acquired during his thesis research.

Now, she and Harry trekked back to the house, loaded with goodies that would hopefully guarantee an end to the paranormal activities; bottle of holy water, pewter candlesticks, and a bottle of sage, not to mention everything that they learned throughout the day. As she mentally recounted the day’s hectic and odd events, she voiced her thoughts. “Wasn’t that medium funny? The things she so-called predicted about you were so wild.” Mags laughed, brandishing her speech with air quotes.

“Heh, yeah,” Harry said, uncharacteristically without elaboration. There was a small pause, and then, “Actually, she wasn’t all wrong.” “How’s that?” Mags inquired, wondering how much longer their walk would take. She was so ready to deal with the ghost. Especially now since she knew it was Tom and he probably didn’t mean them any harm.

“I actually, uh, well you know how she said I suffered a great loss?” Harry reached over to rub the back of his neck before continuing, “Well. She wasn’t wrong about that. My uh, my dad passed away. Not too long ago really.” “Harry,” Mags said, concern and sympathy and sadness all intertwined in her voice, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t,” Harry agreed, but then he looked at her. And if Mags had to guess, the look in his eyes showed that he felt comfortable with her. Safe. “But I want to. My dad was an okay guy, not the best husband but a good father. He passed quickly – cancer, but not painlessly. It was tough for my sister and mom. Tough for me too.” He cleared his throat, sneaking a peek at Mags before looking down at his feet. “I just, I wanted you to know that about me. I like sharing things with you. You’re easy to talk to.”

Usually, Mags was quick to stick her foot in her mouth. Her special talent of saying the wrong thing reared its ugly head when it was most unwanted and in the most awkward situations. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen this time. Mags took one look at how exposed and open Harry was, how he shared his sorrow and confided in her, and she knew exactly what she wanted to say. “He must’ve been a great father,” Mags noted, “To have helped raise someone as wonderful like you.”

They shared a smile. A small one that meant that whatever this was, whatever was happening between them, it was going to be big. The shared smile revealed that there were wonders and adventures yet to come between them. But it would all have to wait until after tonight, when they would finally leave Harry with a ghost-free home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Harry unlocked the door to his house, they didn’t waste time in removing their shoes or coats and got straight to work. Harry began to burn the sage and Mags set the candle around the room, lighting the wicks and igniting flames. They worked in silence, the magnitude of what’s to come weighing heavily on their shoulders. When finished with their respective duties, they met back at the center.

Harry’s grip on the bottle of holy water tightened. “You don’t have to do this, y’know? I won’t hold it against you.” He was offering her an out, not wanting to put her in any unnecessary danger.

Mags rolled her eyes, before reaching over to grasp his free hand. “I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’m not going anywhere.”

Just then, the awful thudding and heavy footsteps could be heard from above. It was loud, the steps so heavy that it caused bits of wood shavings to fall from the ceiling. It was now or never.

“Hello?” Mags called out, her voice trembling at the unknown. “Is that you Tom? I mean Mr – “ “Bleakman,” Harry helpfully supplied.

Mags gulped, “Mr. Bleakman. If that’s you, can you give us a sign?”

Was it her imagination, or had the room suddenly gotten colder? The inside of the house seemed to be even more freezing that the harsh winds outside. It was chilling. Goosebumps began to dot her arms and an uneasy feeling settling around her.  She held her coat closer to her exposed neck, her grip tightening in Harry’s intertwined hand.

“Mr. Bleakman?” Now it was Harry giving it a go. “If you can hear me, I just want you to know. I’m Harry. Your wife, Bertha, rented this house to me. She’s a real sweet woman.” “They play Bingo together,” Mags offered.

“We did. We played a lot of Bingo together and – “ “Which isn’t a euphemism by the way!” Mags exclaimed, before mouthing an apology to Harry when he shot her an exasperated look.

“Right. Well, Mr. Bleakman. Tom. I was hoping that you could stop haunting this house. The thing with the Ouija board the other day? It wasn’t very cool of me and I won’t do it again.” The thudding didn’t stop. The cold air didn’t seem to warm. In fact, things began to worsen. Mags and Harry looked around just as the lights began to flicker, casting an ominous lighting around the room. Just as suddenly, the lights went out all together and everything was dead silent. In the dim lighting, with the candles their only source of light, Mags eyes struggled to adjust. A chill ran down her spine, causing her to tremble. She clumsily reached out for Harry, having let go of his hand earlier, and then let out an audible sigh of relief when his hand found hers instead, squeezing it once as reassurance.

The thumping sound stopped. The only sound that could be heard was their shallow breathing that seemed deafening in an otherwise silent room. They waited, breath baited, for something to happen. It couldn’t be that easy Mags thought. There’s no way.

And though she didn’t want to be, she was right. No sooner has she mentally expressed that sentiment that there was a loud smashing sound that came from the right of her, followed by a loud bang of something crashing to the ground. She screamed, backing up into Harry, who immediately pulled her behind him, trying to shield her from whatever danger that lurked. Before they could even question what caused that smashing sound, a sudden gust of cold air could be felt, causing Mags to shudder and simultaneously, and all the flames in the candles went out. They were trapped in pitch darkness.

The front door slammed open, and the pair whirled around to look at the entrance. A hooded figure could be seen, face hidden, a blunt object in his hand.

This time, both Mags and Harry screamed bloody murder.

The figure screamed back.

A voice thick with an Irish accent resounded in the room. “Why’re ya screaming?! It’s just me!”

“Niall?” Mags questioned desperately, while Harry shouted, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t just bust into someone’s home like that!” The latter’s voice sounding suspiciously scared in a falsetto.

As if this was a playwright and not reality, the lights flickered back on, almost on cue. The lights revealed that it was indeed Niall, as he pulled down the hood from his jacket and stepped into the room. The large object in his hand was just a scroll of paper, rolled up into a tight cylindrical shape.

Mags took long strides to cross the room and stand before Niall before not so lightly pounding him on the arm repeatedly. “What is the matter with you?” “Ouch!” The Irishman exclaimed, wincing and rubbing him tender arm. “I’m here because I’ve found the answer to Harry’s problem.” He was met with unimpressed stares. “Yikes, tough crowd. Look, why don’t you guys take a seat?”

Mags and Harry shared a look, and then walked over to the couch, sitting close to each other, practically on the same cushion, not wanting to be apart after what they’d just witnessed. Once settled, all eyes were on Niall, who physically claimed the center of the room.

“I have found the solution to this haunting,” Niall began. Mags noticed that he was using the same rambunctious, haughty voice he employed when he had to present a subject in class over something that he hadn’t done the reading on, but she ignored calling him out as he actually had piqued her interest. Could he truly have the answer to stop all this madness?

Harry hunched over and ran his palms across his face, and Mags instinctively reached out to rub his shoulders comfortingly. “Oooh! When’d this happen?” Niall asked excitedly, pointing at them.

Mags eyes just flashed in irritation.

“Right!” Niall exclaimed, as if he suddenly remembered he was in the middle of something important. “The solution.”

He began to pace the length of the living room rug, his hands tied behind his back, the rain droplets from his jacket dripping onto the floor. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about everything that Harry had said about this house. All the things that spooked him. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I did some digging of my own.”

He bent over and unfolded the roll of paper, and Mags and Harry reached out to hold opposite edges to keep it straightened.

“Erm, what exactly are we looking at here?” Harry questioned, his head cocked to the side trying to make sense of the white lines and measurements adorning the navy-blue page.

“I went to the town hall and asked for a copy of this house’s floorplan. You mentioned it was old, Harry, something in Bertha’s family for a while so I figured they would have it. If you look closely, right about here,” he pointed to a section on the paper of what Mags deduced was the living room that they were currently in, “that’s the room we are in right now. And if you follow the measurements of the floorboards, you’ll see that they don’t quite align.”

From Harry’s squinted eyes, it was clear he hadn’t caught on yet. But Mags had. The paper showed the square footage, measurements, and scales; Numbers! She was back in familiar territory! She excitedly traced the area that Niall pointed out. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered, “This bitch is built crooked.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, exasperated at being out of the loop. “What is this even showing me?” Niall seemed gleeful at Mag’s realization, validating his findings. “The house, while structurally sound, was built crooked. The plot of land it’s on is uneven. The left dipping lower than the right. Which is why sometimes,” Niall threw his arm out to point at the right wall, splattering Mags and Harry’s faces with more water droplets that flew off his sleeve, “the painting from that wall falls off periodically.” They all looked to where he pointed. The sound Mags and Harry had heard moments ago, the loud banging in the darkness, had been a picture frame that fell off the wall. That’s all it was. Mags felt just the tiniest bit of air fill back into her lungs in relief.

“B-but,” Harry nodded his head side to side in apparent puzzlement, “But how does that explain the lights? We – “He nodded his head at Mags, “We found out that Tom, Bertha’s husband, had died while messing with the breaker in the basement. The flickering lights has to be his ghost.” Niall only patted Harry’s head in response. “Oh, you silly lad! If only that were true. In actuality, Bertha forgot to tell you that in the winter months, the house needs a scheduled appointment with the town’s electrician. The house is old, the wiring is faulty, and it needs a nice tweak now and then in the cold weather.”

Niall stood up once again with a flourish, one finger raised and poised in the air, “And how would I know that? Fret not Harry,” to which Harry deeply exhaled in frustration. “I looked up Bertha, found her granddaughter on Instagram. She’s a fittie by the way, has a boyfriend though. Real shame.” A swift kick to his shins from Mags got him to stop his harmless flirting and get back on track. “Right, so I reached out to her. She relayed that information to me. She also pointed out something else that she thought we’d ought to know.”

He treads to the other side of the room, to the wall that has four large windowpanes covered by thick, velvet drapes. Grabbing the curtain from one corner, he peels it back, loudly exclaiming “Ta-daa!”, his hands outstretched as if he was presenting something fascinating to them, a magician in front of an audience.

Eyes blinked back at him. “There’s nothing even there!” Harry exasperatedly noted.

“What?” Niall did a double take, and then chuckled to himself. “Oops, wrong window.” He repeated his same dramatic motions, this time uncovering a window with a large, crack on it. On the corner, was a missing shard of glass. “Bertha had been meaning to get this fixed. The neighbor’s kid accidentally threw a baseball through the window. She got really forgetful towards the end, according to her granddaughter, which is why she whisked her away.”

Mags nodded excitedly, “That’s what’s been causing the drafts.” She turned to Harry, eyes glowing with relief, “That’s why it always so damn cold in here. Your thermostat can’t compete with that.”

“Hopefully the flickering lights will offset how high your electivity bill is going to be,” Niall joked.

Harry seemed unconvinced. “What about that smell then, huh? It smells something dreadful in the kitchen and I’ve cleaned the place spic and span.”

Mags turned to Niall in wonder, looking at him in a whole new light, as if he was an all knowing being that held all the answers.

“Follow me,” Niall said, leading the trio into the kitchen while continuing his monologue. “I called up our dear friend Louis. Hard guy to keep track of, that lad, with the time zones and all. I told him about the smell, and wouldn’t you know it? Our friend remembered the fact that when he was here, he had drunkenly tried to make himself scrambled eggs for breakfast when you,” he pointed accusingly at Harry, “were passed out on the couch. What he actually did was drop an egg on the ground. In his drunken state, he simply just kicked the egg yolk under the fridge, like ice, and promised to clean it later.”

Niall leaned against the fridge, arms crossed dramatically. “As we know, no follow-through that one. He forgot to clean his mess. So that smell you smelt? The scent of rotten eggs? It actually was a rotten egg. Disgusting but true.”

“I –” Harry couldn’t believe it. Gently pushing Niall away from the fridge, he knelt down on one knee, sinking onto the cool tile. Sliding his phone out of his front pocket, he turned on his flashlight app and shined in under the fridge. Niall and Mags also leaned in to get a closer look. Audible gasps could be heard from all three of them. There, under the dusty and sticky tile bottom of the fridge, wedged between a dust ball and an expired coupon, was a broken, rotten egg.

Mags pinched her nose, unable to take the scent anymore. “Niall, you’re an absolute genius,” she complimented nasally.

Before Niall could bask in his glory for long, Harry interrupted once again. “You’ve explained the lights. The painting falling off. The cold. The smell. But,” his eyes bleary and red, his arms flailing in frustration “what about the sounds coming from the ceiling? The footsteps?”

He turned around and looked at Mags frantically for support. “Mags heard it too! The night that she stayed over and we – um, she just heard it too!” while Mags nodded feverishly in the background.

Niall looked away, breaking eye contact. “That’s the only part I can’t explain,” the blonde confessed, scratching his scalp. “But the blueprints show this house has an attic. Let’s all go search up there together.”

Emboldened by Niall’s other explanations, everyone geared up for their excursion, which really meant that everyone had their phones in hand, flashlights shining. Once again, Niall lead the way, stopping in the middle of the hallway. It was no wonder Harry had never noticed it before. There, on the ceiling, was a subtle outline of an attic door and a very small chain dangling. It was so high up that Niall and Harry took turns hopping and trying to reach the latch, while Mags didn’t even try, watching the boys struggle because she know her attempts would be futile. Eventually Harry was able to grab ahold of the chain and pull the attic door open, as the wooden steps fell along with it. Harry looked back at Mags, feeling a surge of affection for this girl that was willing to risk everything for him, and then looked at Niall, the friend who jumped through hoops to help a friend. Inspired by the love and support around him, Harry took the lead, climbing up the steps as Niall and Mags respectively followed.

“Please don’t be a creepy man that’s been hoarding and hiding in Harry’s attic for shelter,” Mags whispered, climbing the last steps “Because I WILL die of shock, and that’s a promise.”

Niall and Harry helped her up, and she stood upright. They each flashed their lights at different corners of the attic, trying to find something amiss among the dusty boxes of forgotten belongings and storage.

“Wait,” Harry whispered, pointing in the opposite corner. “Look over there. Something’s glowing.”

And sure enough, Mags saw it too. Something was glowing and moving. Two little round balls of light.

“I think,” Harry began, taking a step closer to the source when all Mags wanted to do was drag him back to safety, “Oh wow, it is.” “Is what?” Niall exclaimed, unable to handle the suspense.

“It’s a family of possums!” Harry cried in relief, “It’s just a mama possum and her babies. It’s not a ghost!”

“Awww,” Niall cooed.

The release that everyone felt was almost palpable, the relief tangible. There was no ghost after all! No otherworldly being! All of this was caused by a forgetful old woman, a drunk friend, and a family of critters.

Mags could almost cry tears of joy. Science was valid. Her whole wasn’t flipped upside down. Numbers were important, her beliefs restored. Rationale could explain everything unusual that had occurred within the confines of this house. Without being too dramatic, she could firmly declare that once again, her life had meaning.

She took a few minutes to herself to truly appreciate that there was no haunting before finally speaking up. “I hate to ruin the moment,” Mags said as Harry and Niall admired the critters, “but mama possums are very territorial and will attack if she feels threatened.” When neither Harry nor Niall made any intentions to move, she added, “And possums are at high risk to carry strains of rabies.”

“And that’s our cue!” Harry quipped, as Niall vehemently added, “Yup!”

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Day 7: October 31st, Halloween!!!

Mags beamed with content, relaxing every muscle in her body as she laid on the bookshop’s couch, her head resting on Harry’s warm thigh, his face partially obscured by a book, reading snippets from the murder-mystery novel she had started but never got to finish given how hectic the past few days had been. His other free hand was draped across her shoulder and chest, and Mags divided her attention, taking turns to hold his hand and running her fingers across his forearm, despite Harry’s constant claim that it tickled.

It was Halloween, the day that she had first anticipated because she loved all things horror and it was her favorite holiday, and then the day that she had started to dread when she believed that Harry’s house was being haunted by a ghost. Now, she was back to loving her favorite holiday again, the world was ruled by science, and everything felt right. And it truly did. Ever since last night, when Niall was able to demystify all of the strange occurrences, Mags felt lighter than she had ever before. She let out an exhale as she relaxed into her position, nuzzling closer to Harry as his low voice rumbled, reading aloud to her, and embraced the pleasant sound.

She was so comfortable, so relaxed, she felt could fall asleep right here and now. A little nap was well-deserved at this point, she decided as she closed her eyes contently, considering the hell she’d been through this past week.

“Do not fall asleep,” a voice demanded.

She inhaled deeply in frustration, peeling one eye open to see Liam passing by. He eyed her, irritated, though Mags knew he wasn’t truly annoyed. “You’re still on the clock, y’know?” Liam said, “Just checking in to make sure you’re all set to close up.” He paused to nod at Harry in greeting, because apparently it was really a small world and Mags had found out that Liam and Harry actually knew each from freshman year history class.

Mags sat up, running her fingers through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it. “I don’t understand why you always ask me that when you never offer to actually help close up.”

Liam laughed in response. “I’m nothing if not consistent.” He reached over to give Harry one of those boy handshakes that would always elude Mags. Why couldn’t boys just say goodbye normally? “Anyways, I’ll see you at Harry’s place tonight. I’ve got a wicked costume planned,” he concluded as a farewell.

It wasn’t hard for Niall to convince Harry that he should host a Halloween party at his house, to celebrate the fact that he wasn’t haunted, but also because it was a great excuse to bring everyone together and get drunk. Mags, always eager to wear costumes, agreed with his sentiments and thus, they were hosting a last-minute Halloween party with no invitations spared.

Mags twisted her body to face Harry, his eyes already on her. “I probably should get up and start to close up.” She straightens herself up, ready to check inventory and cash out the register. “Before another student comes rushing in last minute again. Or God forbid, an English major,” she jokes.

“Um,” Harry treaded cautiously, “You know I’m an English major, right?” “You’re a what?” Mags eyes widen in shock. “Nope. No way.” She shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely not.”

Harry smirks in amusement. “Unfortunately, yes. Sorry to break it to you, hon.”

Mags froze, flabbergasted. She guessed she really did have a type. Karma really was a bitch. “I’m so glad you decided to reveal your major after the fact,” she joked, “Or else it might’ve been a deal breaker.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, changing the subject, “Don’t forget! I’ll need to rush home and put on my costume before meeting you at the house.” “Ooh,” Harry resounded in excitement, “Can you pretty please bring Pumpkin with you? I haven’t seen her all day.” She rolled her eyes in response. “I’m beginning to think you’re only dating me for my cat,” she joked amicably.

And that is what they were doing. Dating. As soon as all the ghost nonsense was put to rest, she and Harry finally had the opportunity to address everything that happened between them. Though their coming together was unconventional, the feelings were real and strong, and they decided to give their relationship a try. Mags felt good about it. They way Harry made her feel made her think they were in it for the long haul and she was excited about their future holds.

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Adjusting her halo that fell askew when she threw her head back to take a shot, Mags looked around the kitchen in happiness, the kind that fills your heart when you’re in a party, surrounded by close friends and loved ones, loud music thumping from a distance and filled with good vibes. Alcohol definitely plays a part too.

Suddenly, two tattooed arms reached out to envelop her, careful to avoid smushing her wings. She leaned her weight against Harry’s chest, allowing him to support her, as she turned her face slightly towards him. He lowered his head to her ears, his breath tickling her skin and making her blood rush. “You look so good,” Harry murmured, “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on my own party so they can kick everyone out. Want you all to myself.”

Despite rolling her eyes, Mags couldn’t help the pleased smile that snaked across her face. “Easy there, I’m spending the night anyway.” She turned around so that her wings were no longer a barrier between them, wrapping her arms around Harry from the front, her face against his chest, as he placed his head affectionally atop hers, the wisps on her Halo tickling his cheeks.

Mags had chosen an angel as her last-minute Halloween costume, mainly because it was an easy outfit, but also because the white contrasted well with her golden-brown skin and this particular outfit did wonders for her boobs. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, if the look he gave her when she first made her entrance was any indication. On the other hand, Harry had chosen to dress as a devil. Or at least, a very lackluster devil. He had a red sweater on earlier, but the warmth from the house crowded with bodies caused him to abandon that hours ago, and he was left with a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of devil horns hastily placed atop his mass of curly hair. It was mysterious the way the world worked. Just a week ago, she imagined that on Halloween she would be at home, watching the Scream movie series with Niall, Marisol, and Pumpkin, with a bag of Halloween candy to pass out to trick or treaters. And now, she was celebrating her favorite holiday with her friends and her boyfriend with a fun party.

As the Monster Mash played deafeningly in the background, and they were jostled from people entering and exiting the kitchen to get punch, they swayed to their own silent music, content to be lost in their world for just a moment.

A moment that was interrupted by Niall. “Seriously Harry? You were supposed to grab Mags so we could play charades!” To which Harry muttered an insincere apology. Niall turned to Mags, “It’s a Halloween version of charades. I know how competitive you get. You and Harry can be on the same team. It’ll be a true test of your love!” He declared, his speech slow and slurred.

Mags was game. “Oh, we are so gonna win!” She declared, already leaning into her competitive streak.

“Great!” Niall declared enthusiastically, his arms sloppily flailing in excitement. Unfortunately for him, and for Harry, Niall had forgotten about the cup he was holding and just emptied its entire content onto Harry. His white shirt was completely stained with red punch.

Niall avoided Harry’s harsh glare as Mags slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oops! I’ll just let ya take care of that before our game,” he announced, adjusting his fake leprechaun beard before hurriedly making his exit.

“Great,” Harry groaned, dabbing his shirt with a paper towel in vain, “I have to go change my shirt.” Unexpectedly, Mags was hit with a sudden realization. “Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed in a tone of wonder. “You’re completely covered in red liquid.”

It took Harry a moment, but then his eyes flashed with recognition. “That crazy old psychic was right!”

Mags laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I wonder,” she began, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, “If she was right about two things so far, I’m starting to suspect that she was right to warn me. I’ll bet you are a widower! How do I know I’m not dating a married man?” She teased.

Harry just looked at her fondly in response, at the crazy girl that he called his girlfriend.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buzz! The electronic buzzer resounded, indicating that Mags and Harry’s turn was over. She threw her arm up in frustration. “Seriously Harry? The word was Leatherface! It’s the killer in Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” “How was I supposed to get that?” He howled with laughter.

“I was pointing at Zayn’s leather jacket!” She explained, pointing at the boy dressed as a Greaser, “And I was miming a chainsaw!”

“A chainsaw?” Harry questioned, as Niall guffawed, “I thought you were chopping vegetables!”

Mags sat back next to Harry, arms crossed, and lips pouted in pretending to sulk. “It’s okay baby,” he comforted her, “We’ll get them next round.”

“You promise?” She teased.

His pinky reached out to capture hers. “Pinky promise.”

Mags had chosen a seat next to Marisol and Niall, her main competition in this game. She had squeezed Liam’s shoulder as she passed to get to her seat and shot Zayn a smile in greeting, noticing other familiar faces in the room. It seems that the people that she was the closest with had chosen to join the game.

Niall observed Mags and Harry tangled within one another, as she sat close to Harry, her back to his chest, his arm slung around her shoulders as they waited for their next turn. “You guys are so cute. We should go on a double-date!” He exclaimed, the alcohol causing his enthusiasm to increase ten-fold, “Marisol,” he called, turning to his girlfriend, “Let’s all get brunch tomorrow morning!” Marisol shared a knowing look with Mags, to say Gosh my boyfriend is so cute but such an adorable handful when he’s drunk. “Sweetie,” she began understandingly, as if she was speaking to a toddler, “Y’know I have church in the morning. The church on 3rd street holds their sermons really early on Sunday mornings.”

“Oh, the one with Pastor Mike?” Mags questioned, “He’s super nice!” Marisol looked over at her roommate in concern. “Why do you know that?” She questioned in exasperated confusion, the synthetic hair from her blue Coraline wig slipping over her eyes as she narrowed them at Harry suspiciously, who was busy playing with the ends of Mags hair, the long strands skirting against the small of her back. Marisol lowering her voice in a drunken whisper that wasn’t actually that quiet, “Is he trying to convert you?”

Harry looked offended at the accusation and Mags bubbled over in laughter, unable to explain to Marisol. She didn’t even know what’d she say. Yes, I know Pastor Mike is really kind because he helped Harry and I with an exorcism.

As Marisol and Niall got distracted because it was their turn, Mags turned to admire the mantle above the fireplace. When rooting through the basement for Halloween decorations, she and Harry had found a beautiful picture of Bertha and Tom. They felt it was appropriate to have it up, as a reminder of the love that once filled this house, instead of the horror they previously feared. “I guess I’ll have to go out and buy another frame,” Harry commented, following Mags eyes to see what got her attention. “Why’s that?” Mags asked curiously.

“For a picture of us, of course!” Mags shoved his arm playfully. “Harry, we’ve literally been officially dating for one day, why are you like this?” In turn, he dropped all pretenses of joking, carefully looking into her eyes. “When you know, you know,” he explained, his words firm and laced with adoration. He reached out to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ears, his actions tender and careful, his gaze unwavering. This time, Mags didn’t have to guess what expression was on his face, wasn’t confused about the look in his eye. As he ducked forward, dipping down to touch his nose against hers, she recognizes the emotion that all the signs point to: love.

Just as Harry’s lips are about to make contact with hers, Liam speaks up boisterously, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. “After this,” he boldly proclaims, his once carefully applied zombie makeup now smudged and his speech imprecise due to the effects of the punch, “we should all get into the true Halloween spirit by playing the ultimate spooky game.”

His proclamation is meet with cheerful jeers of encouragement and questions about what the game was.

“Great!” He all but shouts in enthusiasm, “I’ll just go and find us a Ouijia board.”

Time stood still. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion.

Completely in sync, their motions fluid and graceful, contradicting the amount of alcohol consumed between the three of them, Niall, Harry, and Mags jumped up from the couch in harmony, bellowing a resounding chorus of “NO!”

The End. (or isss iiiiiit?)

(Just kidding, it is.)