Hey…remember how I said that this would be a one-shot?

It's already 8,000+ words long and counting, so I decided to bust it up into a two-shot instead.

Which means that you now get this part first. Yay!

This part is about 6,000 words long. Get ready to sit a spell.

So, if you're new here, let's get this out of the way. This is AU. This is OOC. There's cussing and demons and the occasional lewd remark. If you haven't read the Hybrid trilogy – at the very least – you'll be way, way lost.

Anywho, let's get on with Halloween!

"Original name there, Zara."

I will hurt you, Dougie.

So, who wants to do this? Bree?

"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."


"When witches go riding, and black cats are seen, the moon laughs and whispers, "'Tis near Halloween!'"

Unknown


Chase

You know what rocked about Halloween?

I didn't have to hide myself in public!

That was how I ended up in the middle of a supermarket with Tasha, my full demonic form displayed. She had been unsure about it, but when someone remarked on my "amazing prosthetics," she instantly calmed down.

"Chase? Mixed bag of Hershey's or a mixed bag of Nestlé?" Tasha was asking, snapping me from my thoughts and holding up two bags of bite-sized candy for me to inspect.

I smiled. She and Mr. Davenport were the only ones that called me by my name on a regular basis anymore. With everyone else, I was known by the nicknames I had gained a few months ago. I was used to answering to either "Hellcat" or "Half-Breed" now.

Those were better than "Chasey."

I perked my ears at both, my tail - rather, the half that was left - twitching thoughtfully. I honestly was just putting on a show for her. I gave zero fucks about what kind of candy a bunch of kids were going to be stealing from us that night.

Freeloading little welps, taking perfectly good candy for free. They should at least have to dance for it or something cute like that. What was the point in dressing up little kids if they didn't do cute shit while dressed up, right?

Sometimes, I felt like didn't understand the world anymore.

You could just eat the children. They wouldn't be confusing after that.

"Just get both," Leo groaned. He had been dragged on the shopping trip by his mother and was obviously eager to leave.

Why she forced him to come along was a mystery to me. Something about quality time? I mean, think about it: Who the hell bonds over shopping for candy? But Tasha was in charge - of everything - so what she said was what went down.

Most of the time, anyways.

Tasha sighed, but held on to both. "Who stepped on your toes today?" she asked Leo, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, I know!" I volunteered, raising my hand. "He's upset because Janelle rejected him." I clapped his shoulder, shaking my head sympathetically. "Just when you worked up the courage to ask her on a real date instead of one of your little 'study sessions.' Tough break."

Leo glared at me. "For your information, she has to take her nephews trick-or-treating."

"Sure," I drawled, grinning cheekily.

"Be nice, Chase," Tasha reprimanded, glancing at me.

I looked as chastised as I could - having the ability to lower my ears and tail helped a lot with that illusion - and sighed. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Mommy, look! A vampire kitty!"

Can I just say that the high-pitched voices of excited children don't mix well with bionic hearing? I winced as we all turned our attention to a young boy - he couldn't have been older than five or six years - who was pulling on an older woman's sleeve and pointing at me.

Well, I supposed he was right. Between my four sharp canine teeth and various catlike features, I supposed I looked rather like a "vampire cat." He had probably noticed the wings, too, but decided to rationalize it as part of the vampire thing.

"Actually, I'm a demon," I corrected with a smile. Because who would think that I wasn't in costume, right?

The kid's eyes widened. "Awesome."

His mother, however, reacted a bit differently. She pulled her kid away from me like I had threatened to kidnap him. "You should be ashamed," she huffed.

This ought to be good.

"It's people like you - people who think it's okay to portray demons as if they're harmless rather than enemies of God and man - who are ruining the world! You need to repent and pray that God has mercy on your soul before he throws you into Hell! Your mother may have raised you wrong, but -"

"Excuse me?" Tasha interrupted, raising her eyebrow. "You do not tell me how to raise my son!"

"Yeah!" Leo jumped in. "You don't know what she's done."

I threw an arm around Tasha's shoulders. "Just because you don't like me doesn't mean that you get to judge her. It's not her fault that I grew cloven hooves because I sold my soul to the beast below."

The woman stormed off, apparently indignant that we stood up to her. How dare we defend ourselves against her idiotic rant, right?

After a second, Tasha sighed, rubbing her eyes. "We've been spending too much time around Douglas."

"Oh, come on," I reasoned. "She was asking for it."

"Besides, Douglas would have probably scarred her obviously-fragile psyche somehow," Leo continued. "She got off very lightly."

Speaking of, said bitch was approaching us again, clinging to her son's hand like I would eat him. Poor thing had to pass us again to find what she was looking for.

Probably "homemade" cupcakes for her overly-sensitive Bible-thumping comrades.

When she was walking by, she glared sideways at me. So, me being my glorious self, I leaned towards her with a massive grin and quietly hissed, "Hail, Satan."

This apparently aggravated my voice. Who the hell is Satan? And why are you hailing him? You shouldn't be acknowledging anyone's leadership!

I ignored the voice as Leo and I started laughing. The woman paled and hurried away. Tasha smacked us gently on the back of the head, but was smiling herself. "Stop scaring innocent civilians. Now, let's go. Douglas and Donald were playing with fake blood earlier, and I'm afraid to see what kind of mess I'll have to clean if they're left to their own devices."


"Sneaky would be a lime-green Volkswagen. Nobody would suspect the assassins in the lime-green Volkswagen."

Adam Rex, Cold Cereal


Adam

Oly was standing on the part of the roof that hung over the door, her tail twitching thoughtfully. The small rhinestones on her wings reflected the sunlight like a dim disco ball, a sharp contrast to her gray coloring.

Adam crossed his arms as he watched her curiously. He glanced at Yahn, who was perched on his shoulder. "What's she doing?"

Yahn nodded towards her with a mischievous grin. "She's finding her perch for when kids come trick-or-treating. Master let her scare them last year. Most got a kick out of it, but some flipped out in the most entertaining ways."

"So Oly spends Halloween scaring little kids?" Adam asked, frowning.

"And their parents," Yahn added cheerfully. "It's a bit like a free haunted house."

"And Douglas is okay with this?"

Yahn let out a laugh. "Master likes it almost as much as the people Oly scares. Well, the ones with a sense of humor, anyways."

Adam nodded in consideration as Oly crouched down on the edge of the roof and spread her wings out, her mouth wide open as she seemed to freeze in place. If Adam hadn't known better, he would've mistook her for one of those gargoyle statues that tended to adorn older buildings in Europe. "So...that's all she's going to do? It's not that scary."

"She snarls at unsuspecting people," Yahn explained. "Almost like a curse is bringing her to life or something."

Oly finally broke her statuesque stillness, appearing satisfied. She grinned as she leapt off the roof, her wings beating to allow her to descend gracefully. "I hope someone drops their candy again this year. I like those little Bit-O-Honey things."

Adam frowned. "You don't eat, though. And isn't stealing candy from kids mean?"

Oly landed on the driveway, shooting him a look. "Kids can kiss my ass. If the brats want candy, they should hang on to it. And demons don't have to eat. Doesn't mean that I don't like some of your human food. Master won't get those, anyways. He says they're disgusting. And that I would get fat, like Yahn over there."

Yahn huffed and snapped his beak loudly, but that was all he did. Oly was right, of course; Yahn had a bit of a permanent paunch now due to Adam often sharing his snacks.

Adam smiled and scratched under Yahn's chin. "I don't mind." As Yahn closed his eyes with a grin, Adam nodded at Oly. "Tasha's at the store right now. If I ask her to get that candy for you, will you let the kids keep theirs?"

Oly's eyes widened. "You can do that?"

Adam nodded again.

Oly grinned. "If she brings it, the little brats can keep their candy."

Adam smiled at her. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

Oly instantly nodded. "Yes. But I'm not lying this time."

Adam was a bit shocked by the honesty, but he was convinced now. It helped to be able to charm promises and truth from demons sometimes. He bent over a bit and offered Oly his arm, which she used to climb onto his free shoulder. She settled into a comfortable perch and poked his cheek. "Now get Tasha to bring me that Bit-O-Honey stuff."

Adam rolled his eyes, but pulled the phone out of his pocket as he started towards the door. With a text riddled with "pretty please," Adam asked Tasha to get Oly some candy. He conveniently left the imp's name out, but whatever. He couldn't even name somebody who liked that candy, so it wouldn't matter when Oly ate it all. As long as she wasn't stealing it from children, who cared?

He did want to see her scare a few people, though. It sounded like fun.

Adam opened the door while reading Tasha's response - Oly would be quite excited - and sent his thanks as he gently kicked the door closed. He slid the phone into his pocket before he finally looked up to see Ysthry curled up a bit on the jacket he had left on the kitchen counter by the caramel-covered apples Tasha and Leo had made earlier, licking blood off of her scales. The crimson marks were spattered all over her randomly, sharply contrasting with her dull, green-brown scales.

Adam instantly rushed across the room and scooped her up in his arms. "What happened?!"

Ysthry moved her tail around to get her balance before she settled down. "It's fake. Douglas, Donald and Bree got into a blood-slinging contest. That's the last time I take a nap around them." She started licking her scales again, obviously upset at having been caught in the crossfire.

Yahn ran his finger through a stain, dyeing it red. He licked it curiously. "Corn syrup and food coloring, all right."

Adam frowned. "That's it?"

Oly nodded. "Doesn't take much to make fake blood."

"Tastes worse than blood," Ysthry muttered between licks.

Adam nodded sympathetically. However, his curiosity was overcoming his caring nature. Especially since Ysthry was covered in proof that something fun was going on without him. "You said something about a fake blood fight?"


"One of the common failings among honorable people is a failure to appreciate how thoroughly dishonorable some other people can be, and how dangerous it is to trust them."

Thomas Sowell


Bree

She was frozen in place, clutching a small bowl close to her. The fingers of her free hand were dipped in the blood red concoction that the bowl contained as her eyes darted back and forth between Mr. Davenport and Douglas. Both men were in a similar position as her, looking like two snakes coiled to strike. They were paying more attention to one another than to her, but she was a bit grateful for it. It gave her an advantage.

Good thing that sibling rivalry still manifested itself between them.

Mr. Davenport looked like he had just slaughtered a cow. He had smears of blood everywhere, including a long streak that went from just over his right eye and ended just below the left corner of his mouth. Douglas was similarly marked, but the most pronounced stains on his face were the pair of parallel lines that he had drawn on both of his cheeks when war was declared, giving him the appearance of a particularly violent ruffian.

Bree was sure that she didn't look much better; she could feel the sticky substance drying where it had come in contact with her bare skin. Her clothes were likely ruined at that point. However, all of this was surprisingly far from her mind. This was the most fun she had had in a long time while making a mess.

And she had almost refused to help them make fake blood. She was glad that they talked her into it.

A slight movement from Mr. Davenport caught her immediate attention. He had shifted his weight a bit, his expression hard. Douglas was watching him more intensely as well, his eyes shining with cunning and cold calculation. It was a stark contrast to Mr. Davenport, who tempered his attack plans with a sense of honor. Unfortunately, Bree figured out about thirty seconds after the blood flinging began that Uncle Dougie didn't share the sentiment, even going so far as to say that honor was for idiots as he dumped one of the bowls over Bree's head when she turned her back to him.

As much as she wanted to scrub her sticky hair at the moment, she felt the desire for revenge burning inside her. And, by now, both had given her reason to target them. She had yet to make her move, but she would. She was faster than both of them, which she planned on using.

Not yet, though.

Not until the opportunity presented itself.

Mr. Davenport shifted his weight again, seeming to inch towards her. Bree didn't have to think twice to know that this was a decoy. He was trying to get Douglas to let his guard down.

Unfortunately, Douglas probably knew this, too. Worse, though, was that he started edging towards her now.

Bree fought the urge to back away. If both of them flanked her, then they would get much, much closer to one another.

It was exactly what she needed. She suppressed a smirk. Let them come.

Inch by subtle inch, they approached her, their bowls of fake blood held close. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, waiting for one - or both - to just charge. She saw them exchange a brief look before they focused on her again, their movements now synchronous. Somehow, they had lost interest in each other for a moment to take her on.

Bree frowned. Since when did they make an attack plan? Was it a spontaneous thought they had communicated silently? What happened to the petty, competitive rivalry they had displayed not moments ago?

Them being brothers was a double-edged sword, indeed.

This might get interesting, Bree thought, bracing herself a bit. She found all the escape routes she could, ready to fall back a bit if she had to. She wasn't losing this to a couple of middle-aged, self-obsessed men. Especially ones that would gloat for days to come.

They steadily approached.

Bree just waited, trying not to look at her real target as she prepared to make her move. She didn't want to tip them off, after all.

The silent tension was broken by Mr. Davenport, surprisingly. He let out a wild cry and charged, fake blood flying from his fingertips as Douglas followed, his eyes wild.

Bree bolted across the room, scooped up some lengthy loose wires, and ran back to the brothers. She shoved Douglas towards Mr. Davenport before wrapping the wire around them multiple times, securing it with a knot. She then stood back, smirking at their temporary expressions of shock and confusion as they realized that they were tied together, back to back. The bowls they had been holding clattered noisily on the floor, the contents creating a crimson puddle on the tiles at their feet.

Bree almost laughed. There was almost nothing that would bother them more than being tied together.

Almost nothing.

Bree tightened her hold on the bowl in her hands.

After a few seconds, Mr. Davenport started struggling. Douglas, however, burst into laughter that was borderline psychotic. "You evil, evil little girl! I'm so proud!"

"Don't encourage her!" Mr. Davenport huffed. "We don't need any more trouble makers in this family!"

"Is this because of last week?" Douglas asked. "Because I understood that the jackass was asking for it."

While Mr. Davenport growled out a futile warning about Douglas' colorful vocabulary, Bree had to bite back a laugh at the memory of the event Mr. Davenport was referring to. She and Chase had gone out for frozen yogurt together - a bonding day, if you will, since Leo and Adam were working on their magic skills - but a guy had repeatedly made less-than-appropriate advances towards Bree. Chase had tolerated the guy when he was just talking - it got to the point where "fuck off" accented almost everything Chase said - but the peace was broken the second the pervert touched Bree's thigh like he had every right in the world to do so.

Mr. Davenport wasn't at all happy when the police showed up at the front door with Chase and Bree in tow and handed him a ticket that had been issued for Chase's reaction. Not that Mr. Davenport was pleased that someone had treated Bree in such a manner, mind you. He just thought that Chase breaking a chair over the guy's back was a bit excessive. It resulted in a two week grounding. It was supposed to be two months, but Douglas and Adam were quick to point out how much worse the situation would have turned out if they had been there. At least the guy would recover from Chase's assault.

Chase had been banned permanently from the yogurt shop, but it was worth it.

Bree grinned before turning her attention back to her helpless victims. "I think I won," she gloated.

"You cheated," Mr. Davenport growled.

Douglas just scoffed.

Bree raised the bowl a bit. "Feel my wrath!" She then zipped forward, dumped the bowl over their heads, and bolted out of the Lab in less than a second with a loud whoop of victory as a devious smirk crossed her face. Behind her, loud cries of anger and lamentations about sticky hair echoed.

Speaking of sticky hair, Bree became painfully aware of how her own hair was sticking to her skin in various places due to the corn syrup that was drying in it. She pulled a face. It was time for a shower.


"Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Cackle maniacally, and people back away from you slowly."

Unknown


Douglas

Being tied up usually made him excited. Things tended to get exciting when one was helpless.

Even if it was in a bad way.

However, being tied to Donnie while fake blood dried on his now-messy hair wasn't quite as enjoyable as he would've liked.

Donald's elbow jerked slightly, catching Douglas in the ribs yet again. It hadn't hurt when he did it the first few times, but a bruise was starting to form that Don always seemed to hit. "Quit struggling," he snapped.

"I actually want to get out of this," Donald huffed. "I don't see you doing anything!"

"Because I have a plan," Douglas informed Donald. "And, unlike yours, it'll work."

Donald finally went still. "Fine," he muttered. "But don't start whining when it fails."

Douglas rolled his eyes. However, he didn't respond. They stood still for a moment before Donald decided to speak again. "Your plan is to stand here?"

"Yes," Douglas responded.

"Why?"

"Because Adam's upstairs. As soon as he hears that we're making a mess down here, he'll show up. I give him a few more minutes," Douglas explained.

Besides, he could plot his revenge against Bree while waiting. No one got his hair sticky and went unscathed!

But what was a punishment befitting the atrocity she had committed? Burned at the stake seemed appealing. Douglas entertained the notion for a few seconds before dismissing it. He didn't want to hurt her.

Scare her, then? It was Halloween, after all.

A devious smirk played on his lips as a vague idea formed in his mind's eye, growing more detailed with each passing second. He had almost forgotten how much fun plotting was.

Adam was practically running when he finally showed up, his eyes shining with excitement. He slid to a stop just inside the tunnel entrance, his breathing a bit heavy from the exertion. He glanced around at all the fake blood spattered across the Lab before he finally acknowledged the captives in the center of it all. "I missed it, didn't I?"

Douglas nodded while Donald tried to turn his head to look at Adam. "Can you get us out of here?"

Adam frowned. "I can't untie you. That would be against the game rules."

"What game?" Douglas asked, furrowing his brow.

"Escape Artist," Adam said slowly, rolling his eyes as if he had just been forced to answer the easiest question in the world because someone else lacked the mental capacity to do so themselves. "You're supposed to get yourself out of that."

Donald started struggling again. "Seriously, Adam?"

Douglas hissed through his teeth before he responded himself. "Try this game: If you don't untie us in the next ten seconds, I'll hit you upside the head with a baseball bat as hard as I can every time you start to fall asleep for the next month. Sound fun?"

Adam paled visible and practically bolted over. He snapped the wires in half easily and tossed them away with a nervous laugh. "Now you won't hit me with a bat, right?"

Donald smacked the back of Douglas' head before rolling his shoulders a bit to regain feeling. "Don't threaten them."

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me what to do."

Donald glared at him.

"So the blood fight is over, right?" Adam asked slowly. "I can't make a mess?"

"I don't think this place can get any messier," Donald pointed out.

Douglas frowned. Sure, the Lab looked like the crime scene of a brutal murder, but it could always be messier.

Adam sighed. "So much for getting sticky."

Douglas almost snorted when the temperature seemed to drop several degrees, sparking an ominous dread in his stomach. He shivered involuntarily, earning strange looks from both Donald and Adam. However, just as soon as the temperature had fluctuated, it was back to normal. He waited a few seconds, but nothing else happened. What the hell was that? he thought.

"What's wrong with you?" Donnie finally asked, frowning.

Douglas offered him a tight smile as the general sense that something was off grew stronger. Obviously, they hadn't felt whatever happened. "I'm fine." Maybe he was just imagining things. He could do that on occasion. Or someone was playing a trick on him. Either way, he couldn't swallow down the rising nervousness inside of him.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

Douglas ran his finger through some still-wet blood. "Let me help with that stickiness problem, Adam. Hold still." He ran his finger along Adam's forehead, thankful that his hands weren't shaking so that the lines were straight. After a few seconds, he finally stopped drawing. "There," Douglas declared, examining his handiwork.

Adam grinned. "I was hoping for something more fun, but I'll take it."

Donald, however, shot Douglas a confused look. "Why did you draw that?" he asked quietly.

Douglas shrugged and turned around, walking through the tunnel. He needed to get the corn syrup out of his hair. Besides, maybe taking a shower would help him shake the feeling that he was being watched. Until then, he hoped that Adam didn't wash his forehead.


"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown"

H.P. Lovecraft, Supernatural Horror in Literature


Leo

If he hadn't found Ysthry trying to clean her scales while Oly and Yahn sword fought on the counter with caramel apples - she had perched on his shoulder the second she saw him and complained about how no one ever respected the imps - Leo would've thought that someone had exploded in the Lab. Fake blood stained nearly everything, including Mr. Davenport. Adam wasn't messy - shockingly - but he had the oddest bloodstain in the entire room on his forehead: A pentacle.

Well, it wasn't really a bloodstain. Someone had obviously drawn it there.

Tasha raised an eyebrow. "Why is this place a mess? And why does Adam have that on his forehead?"

"Have what?" Adam asked, straining to see his forehead. "What did Douglas draw?"

Tasha's eyes widened. "You let Douglas draw an evil symbol on Adam's forehead?"

Mr. Davenport quickly shook his head. "Never, honey. That's a symbol of protection." He shrugged. "I guess something made Douglas nervous."

"Guys," Adam insisted, "tell me what he drew."

"A pentacle," Ysthry answered. She then arched her neck expectantly. Leo rolled his eyes and rubbed her head with his index finger. Needy imp.

"What's a pentacle?" Adam asked.

"A circle with a star in it," Leo answered before anyone could overcomplicate it with symbolism and spirituality. It was just a shape, after all. He nudged Chase. "Right?" When Chase didn't answer, Leo glanced at him.

Chase was frowning, his brow furrowed as his eyes darted around the room, darkening and returning to normal repeatedly as he filtered through the planes. He stalked forward a few steps - his limp made the movement seem less intimidating - and froze, his ears pinned and tail lashing.

Mr. Davenport frowned. "Okay, what are you -"

Chase interrupted the question by snarling loudly and lashing out at nothing. He was still for another second before he bolted across the room, actually vaulting over the cyber desk before hiding behind Adam and glaring at the corner of the Lab with bared teeth, the fur on his ears and tail on-end and his wings extended a bit, as if he was trying to make himself appear larger. He let out a loud growl, a sound that never should have come from a person.

Even if they were half-demonic.

"What's wrong with you?" Mr. Davenport asked as Adam reached back and patted Chase's shoulder.

"There's a blurry thing" Chase growled, not taking his eyes off of the corner. "It keeps moving and whispering things."

This, of course, prompted everyone else to stare at the corner for a bit. Leo even squinted, trying to see whatever bothered Chase. Ysthry snorted after a second. "Those things show up every Halloween. They're harmless."

"What things?" Tasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It looks kind of like when the air is wavy over a hot road," Chase described. "But it's not heat waves."

"I don't care what they are," Ysthry said casually. She curled her tail around to lick fake blood off of one of the two stingers that adorned the tip. "They leave me alone, so I never bothered to investigate them."

"I still don't like it," Chase hissed as he peeked around Adam. "It's creepy."

"Speaking of creepy," Tasha cut in, her attention back to the mess now that Ysthry had basically declared that the room was safe, "this place looks like a slaughter house."

"Douglas and Bree started it," Mr. Davenport instantly responded.

"Where are they, anyways?" Leo asked, frowning.

"Probably taking showers," Mr. Davenport answered. He ran his hand through his bloody hair. "I should probably do that, too."

"After that, you three are going to clean this place," Tasha informed him, crossing her arms.

Mr. Davenport opened his mouth to protest, but Tasha's expression left no room for negotiation. Finally, he sighed. "I'll be back, then." He started for the tunnel, mumbling under his breath about injustice when Chase's head whipped from the corner of the room to the tunnel entrance. Mr. Davenport paused and shivered slightly before he continued around the corner, vanishing from sight.

Chase gestured broadly at the tunnel. "How is that thing harmless, Ysthry? You saw what it just did!"

Leo squinted at the tunnel entrance, desperate to catch even the slightest glimpse of what Chase was seeing. Meanwhile, Ysthry scoffed. "It just poked him. What a threatening action."

"Don't use sarcasm against me," Chase huffed. He spread his wings a bit more as he backed up a step. "I don't like that thing."

"It'll go away tomorrow," Ysthry reassured. "They always do."

Adam smiled at Chase. "See? She says it's nothing to worry about."

Chase nodded instantly, pulling his wings in to rest against his back and perking his ears. For a second, Leo wished he could have that kind of effect on something just by talking. Oh, well. Good looks were an excellent consolation prize.

Tasha eyed the tunnel entrance wearily before she gestured at Adam. "Let's get your forehead washed off. Besides, Oly and Yahn are probably fighting with the caramel apples again."

"Can I at least see what Douglas painted first?" Adam asked as he followed Tasha to the elevator.

"I guess," Tasha answered as the door slid open. "It's not that special."

"I still want to see it," Adam insisted before the elevator doors closed, leaving Leo and Chase alone in the Lab.

Well, alone with Ysthry and a squiggly anomaly that Leo couldn't see.

Leo rubbed Ysthry's chin. "Are you sure they're harmless little squiggles?"

"Little?" Chase scoffed. "That thing is the size of a person."

"Harmless," Ysthry confirmed, stretching her neck out.

"Harmless or not," Chase growled, pinning his ears again, "I'm going to find out what it is."

"You have until midnight," Ysthry responded. "After that, you won't see them for a year."

"I won't need until midnight." Chase crouched a bit, his eyes narrowed.

"You're never going to catch it," Ysthry informed him.

Chase charged towards the tunnel, his limp more pronounced now - jumping over the cyber desk must have aggravated it - and swatted at thin air before roaring loudly and chasing the invisible thing around the corner.

"Did he just ignore me?" Ysthry huffed indignantly, growling a bit.

Leo shrugged. "He'll give up eventually."

Ysthry snorted loudly, still annoyed that Chase had completely disregarded her.

Stifling a laugh at her almost-childish behavior, Leo smiled. "Want to tear up an old shirt and bury yourself in the pieces or something?"

Ysthry leapt into the air, beating her wings to keep her flight at eye level. "Let's go!"

Leo rolled his eyes and followed Ysthry as she flew down the tunnel excitedly.


"I was born on the night of Samhain, when the barrier between the worlds is whisper-thin and when magic, old magic, sings its heady and sweet song to anyone who cares to hear it."

Carolyn MacCullough, Once a Witch


Chase

I lost the damn thing upstairs.

I had taken too long to climb the stairs, I suppose.

I blamed it on Tasha for yelling at me to stop running through the living room while she wiped at Adam's forehead with a paper towel. Or Oly, who had sprawled out in the middle of the floor with her head buried in the bag of Bit-O-Honey candy that Adam begged Tasha to buy. Or maybe it was that the thing itself was fucking with me.

Either way, when I arrived in the hall, it was nowhere to be found.

You're the worst hunter in history! hissed my voice.

I hissed in frustration as I went through the nine planes I could see and still saw nothing. It had shown up at plane three earlier, so what the hell? Things didn't just vanish.

"I know you're here," I growled to no one.

Of course, no one answered. Still, I felt better for having said that out loud. I felt like trying to speak to whatever that thing was justified the dull throbbing that radiated from the scar on my leg.

Jumping over the desk hadn't exactly been the smartest move on my part. I could've gone around.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes to listen more closely to everything. If I were a blur, where would I go next?

Wait, that question was stupid. Why would a blur go anywhere? Blurs didn't just float around.

Except for the blurry thing that was floating around the house.

Shut up.

My ears twitched as footsteps sounded down the hallway. Light, rapid, almost gliding over the ground...

Bree, I finally concluded. Bree was walking towards me. I opened my eyes to see her down the hall, her head tilted curiously as she approached. "Tasha says that you have to help clean the Lab," I informed her.

Bree shrugged. "Easy." After a second, she asked, "Are Mr. Davenport and Douglas still tied up?"

"They were tied up?" I asked, frowning.

Bree's eyes widened. "You never saw me!"

"Before you hide," I said quickly, "I have a question. Did you check the planes and see a blurry thing up here a few minutes ago?"

"Near the bathroom," she answered. "I was honestly expecting Douglas to send Oly after me. Glad it was that thing instead."

I wanted to hear about that Douglas thing later. However, I had prey to catch first. "You didn't do anything about it?"

Bree shrugged again. "It has followed Douglas and Mr. Davenport around all day," she responded. "If it was dangerous, it would've done something by now. At the moment, I'm more concerned about Douglas plotting some revenge scheme against me."

I smiled a bit. "Why?"

"I poured fake blood in his hair," she answered. She glanced over her shoulder wearily. "You saw nothing," she said before she bolted down the stairs.

To the bathroom, then, my voice ordered.

I pinned my ears. I can stay here all fucking day if I want to!

Then let the thing get away. It's not my problem.

Stupid little voice. Hissing between my teeth, I quietly started towards the bathroom. I was going to find out what that thing was if it took the rest of the day.

Considering that it was already 4:00 in the afternoon - and Ysthry said that it would vanish at midnight - I wanted to catch the thing as soon as I could.

The bathroom was still warm from Bree's shower when I arrived at the door. Even the mirror still had a layer of condensation on it when I flicked the light on, excluding a spot Bree had wiped clean in order to see herself. More important, though, was the shimmery blur that was just hanging out in the middle of that bathroom like it owned the place. I pinned my ears at it and growled as I cycled through the planes repeatedly. "What the hell do you want?"

The thing floated towards the mirror a bit. However, that was it. I stared at it for a moment. Seriously, what was its problem? Finally, I growled again. "Don't ignore me, asshole!"

The thing floated towards the mirror again.

I bared my fangs at it. "Are you fucking serious? Don't think for a second that I won't..."

Letters started to appear in the condensation on the mirror as if an invisible finger was writing them. I trailed off as I watched, backing up a few steps as words appeared.

You wouldn't hurt me. Not that you could, anyways.

What the hell? I stared at the words for a bit, trying frantically to come up with an explanation to their existence. I didn't write it, so that left the squiggle.

Last I checked, squiggles didn't just write things on mirrors.

I swallowed hard, glancing behind me. "Very funny, guys," I huffed, half-hoping that someone would pop out and explain the elaborate prank to me. I glanced at the mirror again, now looking for some kind of projector or something that could create the illusion of a writing blur. However, all I saw was my reflection.

Because the words were gone.

I looked around again. "Seriously, it's not funny anymore."

The only answer I received was my reflection staring back at me, eyes wide as hell when I saw a second reflection - a somehow familiar-looking stranger - beside me when I reached plane eight.

The man smiled as he raised a hand and started to write in midair. Slowly, words appeared on the mirror again.

Hello, Chase.


Gonna have to wait!

Mua ha ha ha! Go, cliffhangers.

What's going on in the bathroom with Hellcat?

And will Dougie get even?

Will Oly still steal candy from children?

Anywho, part two is coming soon, so be on the lookout for that.

I told you it wasn't going to be scary, didn't I?

So, until next time, feel free to read and review. Or don't. I don't care. xD

And, as always, enjoy.

*Bows and exits*