This chapter doesn't really have a crossover, but it is based off of hidden object games I play when I should be working on a chapter. Not going to name them yet, it might give something away if you're familiar with those games. I also did a lot of research for certain things.
So about the delay... Things were bad. Like bad enough that I almost had to go to the hospital. It was awful. After that I started increasing my volunteer hours and increasing my endurance so I can hold a job because I've been chronically ill for eight years but now I'm getting close to the age five out of six recover from it.
If your really curious look up Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. I have it. It sucks.
So after essentially being a shut in for eight years for medical reasons, which is what let me spend lot's of time writing/reading fan-fiction, I am now trying to transition into a functioning member of society. As you can probably imagine this is something I find extremely difficult so I've been getting help for my crippling anxiety issues. Professional help.
On Mother's day I was in charge of dinner. I made Flambeed mustard glazed filet mignon and mustard mashed potatoes for my family. It was good, and the first time I ever Flambeed anything, so yay!
And then when I was finally finishing up this chapter San Diego, where I live, decided to spontaneously combust. When I flipped through the local news stations I discovered that it could pretty much be summarized like this "Fire. Fire everywhere." Nine. Nine fires in one day so I had to drop everything and prep things for evacuation in case one of the fires started going in my direction. Better to be prepared for the worst than scrambling as ash rains down on your head. Fortunately they got the fires closest to me out, but there are still fires burning and arson is suspected in at least one fire and I live in an area surrounded by hills full of burnable material. So I've had the news on pretty much all the time since then because I don't want to die in a fire.
The road was covered in fog and Bree was pretty sure that the driver had taken more than one wrong turn. Most of the other passengers seemed to have fallen asleep but Bree was resisting the urge to nod off. She stared out the window, trying to make out shapes in the fog. Suddenly something darted out into the road, the driver swerved wildly to avoid it. The tires squealed loudly but went quiet as the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass signaled the abrupt stop of the bus.
Bree was the first the one to recover. She pulled herself up off the floor and checked herself for injuries. There was no major damage, just a lot of bruising. A young man with sandy brown hair and five o'clock shadow was the next to get up. His hoodie and cargo pants were both loose fitting and worn.
"Is everybody alright?" he asked.
"We just crashed. Do you really need to ask that?" a busty dark haired woman snapped from her position on the floor.
"Is anything broken or bleeding?" Bree questioned irritably.
"No." the woman replied.
"Then you're fine."
The woman glared at Bree as a man with slicked back dark hair helped her up. Bree recalled that she had seen the pair snuggling before the crash.
"The driver isn't." someone at the front of the bus commented, drawing everyone's attention. The speaker was a scrawny man young man wearing a pair of glasses with a cracked lens. He fidgeted under the collective gaze of the other passengers and played with the hem of his blue sweater.
The sandy brown haired young man walked up to check on the driver. He was slumped over the steering wheel with blood gushing out of a gash on his head.
"He's breathing." He reported as he moved the driver to get better access to his injury. "Someone find a first aid kit."
The purple haired girl found the kit and took it to him.
"Anyone got a signal?" the man with broken glasses asked, holding up his phone.
Everyone checked their phones.
"Nope."
"Nothing."
"Must be a dead zone."
Bree put her phone away. "I'm going outside to see where we are."
"I'll go with you." the dark haired man volunteered.
The fog outside was thick, visibility was low, and everything was damp. The bus had plowed over some roadside trees before stopping in a shallow ditch. Bree headed toward the back of the bus to check the engine. It seemed fine, but Bree didn't know much about engines. She checked her watch and took a sip from her flask.
"We're not going to be going anywhere for awhile!" the dark haired man called from the front of the bus.
Bree went up to the front and immediately saw the problem. There was a power pole lodged up underneath the front axle.
"Well, I guess that's what stopped us." Bree commented. "Let's check out the road."
"Careful, the power lines are down." the dark haired man commented.
"Along with at least one more power pole that I can see." Bree said as she walked toward the road.
"Well, if we can't find any help we know a repair crew will be coming out here eventually."
Bree examined the cracked asphalt beneath her feet. "Might be awhile. This road isn't well maintained, it obviously doesn't see a lot of traffic."
She stopped walking and looked around.
"What is it?"
"Skid marks. This is where the driver swerved to avoid..."
"To avoid what?"
"There was something in the fog. I couldn't really see it."
"It was probably just a deer or something."
"I doubt that."
There was a tree on side of the road where Bree had seen whatever had been in the fog. It stood out because of the tendrils of black goo the shined like crude oil spiraling up the trunk and spreading across the ground until it reached the road. The tree's leaves were rapidly turning gray and falling to the ground.
"What is this stuff?" the man asked, kneeling down to touched it. Bree grabbed his wrist.
"Yeah, that's a great idea. Touch the mystery substance that is clearly killing the tree over there."
As if to punctuate Bree's statement a branch fell from the tree and the bark started to crack loudly as it dried out.
"Aw, you're worried about me girl. We only just met."
Bree dropped his wrist quicker then if it had burned her. "Let's get back to the bus."
"Hey no need to be like that! Next time you want to touch me just ask, no need to maked up an excuse."
"I should have let you touch it!"
"Ok. It's looking like we're going to be here for awhile." Bree announced after she had climbed back onto the bus. The driver had been moved so that he was laying across a row of seat with his head propped up and everyone was seated.
"So, I guess we should do names then." The teenage girl stated. "I'm Clara."
"John." said the sandy haired man.
The scrawny man adjusted his glasses. "Nathan."
The dark haired guy smiled in what was supposed to be a charming way but it just pissed Bree off. "I'm Tony and this is my girl Carolina." He sat down next to the dark haired woman an threw an arm around her.
"Shauna." Bree said. "So now what?"
There was a moment of silence until Clara spoke up. "We passed town not too long ago, or at least some buildings, and buildings mean people so maybe some of us should go check it out."
"Okay. Anyone willing to walk out there with me and see if we can find a town raise your hand." Bree instructed.
Clara and John were the only ones to put a hand up.
"Great." Bree stated. "Grab anything you want to take with you and let's go."
"Wait, what about the driver?" Nathan asked.
"There's not a lot more that we can do." John replied. "But if he bleeds through the bandages leave them on to keep pressure on the wound and just put more on."
Bree, Clara and John followed the road in the direction they had come from. After about fifteen minutes of walking they saw headlights in the fog. An older model sheriff's vehicle emerged from the fog and stopped next to them. The window rolled down so they could see a brown haired man with a thick mustache, wearing a beige uniform and a sheriff's badge.
"You folks need help?" He asked.
"Our bus crashed." John replied. "We went out to look for help while the others passengers stayed behind."
"Anybody hurt?" The sheriff questioned.
"The driver was knocked out." Clara answered. "He was still unconscious when we left."
"Your bus," the driver began. "It didn't happen to to hit a power pole did it?"
"Yeah. There's one jammed underneath the front axle, the lines are snapped, and I think a couple of others that went down too." Bree reported. "Hard to tell with the fog."
"Powers out for the whole town but there are a couple of emergency generators running." the Sheriff stated. "You might be able to get a call out, and we should get the driver to the clinic."
"How far is the town?" Bree inquired.
"Not far. Maybe ten minutes on foot." The Sheriff answered.
"Okay. John, why don't you go with the Sheriff and get the driver and the other passengers and Clara and I can walk to the town and see about making a phone call." Bree suggested.
"Sounds good." John replied.
"So, um, where were you headed before the bus crashed?" Clara asked as they walked.
"Florida." Bree replied.
"Do you have family there?" Clara inquired.
"No, I just travel a lot for work." Bree answered.
"What sort of work do you do?"
"I'm a debt collector."
"That must be interesting."
Bree shrugged. "What about you? Where are you going?"
"I don't really know." Clara answered. "It's just that I just feel like I'm meant for something more and I've spent my whole life running towards it."
"Hey, I see something up ahead." Bree announced when she spotted something up ahead that wasn't a tree or the road. It was a large sign that was slowly being engulfed by leafy vines. "Welcome to Greenville" it read in peeling paint. Someone had added the words "Turn back" at the bottom, partially obscured by the vines.
They walked down the main street and into town. It was completely silent and empty. Most of the shops were abandoned, locked up tight or boarded up by owners that were never coming back. Paint was peeling, wood was rotting, bricks were crumbling, mushrooms, lichens, and mosses were growing in places. There were only three buildings that were well maintained, the clinic, the hotel, and the sheriff's station.
"Let's go to the clinic and let them know someone will be coming." Bree suggested.
The sign above the door read "GREENVILLE CLINIC" with the name " Dr. Johnathan Elliot" printed below that next to another name that was scratched out.
The clinic's waiting room was empty save for two rows of chairs, the receptionist's desk, a few tables with potted plants and old magazines. Clara picked up a magazine and looked at the cover.
"Marilyn Monroe? This thing has got to be older than I am."
"Can I help you?" someone asked. Bree and Clara both jumped and turned to the receptionists desk. There was a young woman with brown hair sitting behind it. She was wearing a blue shirt dress that brought out her eyes and a white sweater.
"Yes, uh, well, maybe?" Clara replied, still a bit startled.
"Our bus crashed nearby and the driver was knocked out. We just wanted to let you know that the Sheriff was going to be bringing him by and maybe use your phone." Bree explained.
"Oh, I'll go let Dr. Elliot know." the woman replied.
"Let me know what, Bonnie?" a blond man in a white lab coat, presumably Dr. Elliot asked.
"There was a bus crash. Sheriff Vogel is going to be bringing the driver in." Bonnie replied.
"Was anyone else hurt?" Dr. Elliot questioned.
"Just bumps and bruises." Bree answered. "I think the driver took the brunt of the impact. He hit the steering wheel pretty hard, hard enough to knock him out and leave a cut a least."
"It was bleeding a lot." Clara added.
"Head wounds tend to do that." Dr. Elliot replied. "Was there anything else?"
"They were wondering if they could use the phone." Bonnie answered.
"Of course, go ahead. I'll just be in the back preparing for my new patient." Dr. Elliot said before leaving the room.
"Right well, it's just over there." Bonnie stated, gesturing to a wall mounted rotary phone. Bree picked up the receiver and dialed. The monotone voice of a woman picked up.
"We're sorry, but the number you are dialing from doesn't exist anymore. Please hang up and don't call again."
Bree stared incredulously at the receiver for a moment before hanging up.
"No connection." she reported.
"That's unfortunate. It would be best for you to leave town as soon as possible." Bonnie replied, sounding slightly ominous. "I mean, you probably have somewhere you want to be instead of hanging around here." she added hastily.
"Right." Bree said.
It wasn't long before Sheriff Vogel and Tony came in, each with one of the driver's arms slung over their shoulders.
"Dr. Elliot is already preparing a room in the back." Bonnie informed them. "Just take him on through."
Nathan and Carolina came in.
"Where's John?" Bree asked.
"There wasn't enough room for all of us in the car so he decided to walk back." Nathan explained. "I told him it wasn't a good idea to split up but..."
"So why didn't someone go with him?" Clara asked.
"All this moisture is making my hair frizz enough as it is." Carolina whined.
"I uh, felt a lot safer going with the guy with a badge and weapons than walking down the foggy road." Nathan explained a bit sheepishly.
"So when is someone coming to get us?" Carolina demanded.
"They're not." Bree replied. "The phone couldn't make a connection so we might be stuck here for awhile, or at least until someone comes to fix the power lines."
"In that case ya'll should probably go see Miss Lorraine over at the hotel." Sheriff Vogel stated after he and Tony emerged from the back. "No one will be coming to repair the power line until until the fog lifts. I'd try getting a message out for you on the radio at the station, but it's been busted for weeks and driving to the next town is out of the question since the fog is only getting thicker."
"Yeah, okay, that sounds like a plan I guess." Bree replied.
True to the Sheriff's word the fog had gotten much thicker. You could barely see across the street anymore.
"Kind of creepy." Nathan commented. "Just like Silent Hill."
"Is that a movie?" Bree asked.
"It's a game." Nathan replied.
Carolina snorted derisively. "Geek." she muttered before striding over to the hotel. Nathan seemed to wilt.
"I used to play Halo with my cousin." Bree told him. "It was fun, even if she couldn't aim the rocket launcher to save her life. It's been awhile though." He perked up and bit and Bree continued on to the hotel.
The lights in the lobby flickered a bit, the furniture and potted plants cast eerie shadows on the red carpeted floor and old black and white photos of the town back in it's heyday hung on the walls.
"Hello there." an old woman in a pink frock and a blue knitted shawl greeted. "Carolina told me of the trouble you have been having, poor dears, you can stay as long as you like, no charge."
"That's very generous of you ma'am." Clara replied. "Are you sure?"
"Why of course. I don't really need the money you see. My husband was quite wealthy and he left everything to me when he died. No one comes to visit me anymore at my estate. I was getting so lonely so I bought the hotel." the woman replied. "And please, just call me Lorraine. Everyone else does."
"Right, thank you Lorraine, that's very kind of you." Bree said.
"Now let's get you your room keys." Lorraine said as she got several keys with numbered tags attached to them down from hooks on the wall behind the front desk and handed them out.
"I'm sorry dear." she said when she got to Bree. "But I'm afraid I only have so many good rooms so yours is a bit smaller than the rest."
"That's fine." Bree said, taking the key from her.
Bree's room was on the first floor while everyone else had a room on the second so she ended up walking down a hallway alone as the lights flickered. She found the room and opened the door. Lorraine had understated the size of the room. It was small and very plain. There was really only enough space for a bed, a small dresser and a nightstand with just enough room left over to navigate to the door that led to an even smaller bathroom.
Bree hadn't really planned on staying in the room very long, she was more interested in making sure John got to the town safely and then maybe heading to the sheriff's station to see if anything could be done about the radio but she he suddenly felt very, very tired. She struggled to keep her eyes open as she stumbled over to the bed. She flopped onto an immediately fell asleep.
When Bree woke up sometime later she noticed that her last dose of polyjuice had worn off. She quickly sat up and took another drink from her flask and waited for a moment as her body shifted and changed. Looking around she notice a few things she had missed before. The layer of dust on everything, the wallpaper peeling around the edges, and the cracks in the ceiling. She must have been too tired to notice all of that before, she decided.
She stretched, joints creaking and popping, and then she left the room, intending to find out if John had made it back yet.
"Hello dear." Lorraine greeted.
Bree turned quickly.
"Hello, I didn't see you there." she said after she had recovered.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Lorraine replied.
"It's alright." Bree stated. "I'm just a little jumpy after the crash."
Lorraine looked sympathetic."That's understandable dear, you've had quite a fright today."
"There was one more bus passenger, but he decided to walk into town since there wasn't enough room in the sheriff's car for all of them. Do you know if he got here alright?" Bree asked.
"Oh yes, a young man came into not to long ago, I gave him a room upstairs." Lorraine replied.
"Upstairs?" Bree repeated, remembering what Lorraine had said about being out of nicer rooms.
"Yes, is something wrong?" Lorraine inquired.
Bree smiled, hoping it didn't look too fake on Shauna's face. "Oh no, it's nothing really, but I guess that means I'm the only one on this floor."
"Oh, yes, I suppose it does." Lorraine replied. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"You know," Lorraine began "You look a lot like my nanny from when I was a child. She used to have tea parties with me and even after I grew up I always loved getting together with friends and having a nice cup of tea. Of course after the mill burned down people started leaving town and i was left with no one to invite... If you're going to be here for awhile perhaps you can join me for a cup of tea."
"Maybe, but first I think I'll go see the Sheriff. He said something about a radio." Bree replied.
"I understand dear. I'll see you later." Lorraine said.
Bree shivered slightly as the fog seeped into her clothes. The fog seemed to make everything damp. Bree paused for a moment to get her bearings int the unfamiliar town.
"Is someone there?" someone called out. Clara emerged from the fog. "Shauna? Is that you?"
"Hello Clara." Bree replied.
"This fog makes it kind of hard to find your way around." Clara said. "I was just on my way to the clinic to check on the driver."
"That is a good idea. I'll go with you. Then I'm going to find the Sheriff and ask about the radio." Bree replied.
"Didn't he say it was broken?" Clara asked.
Bree shrugged. "Doesn't mean it can't be fixed."
The clinic was the same as when they first walked in, though the plants looked a bit more wilted than they had before.
"Dr. Elliot? Are you here?" Clara called.
"Ah, girls, you're back. Is there anything I can help you with?" Dr. Elliot asked as he emerged from the back.
"We were just wondering how the driver was doing." Clara replied. "Has he woken up yet?"
"No, but that's normal, the brain needs time to heal from these things after all." Dr. Elliot replied. Clara didn't looked convinced.
"Don't worry, he'll be fine, better than fine, he's under my care after all." Dr. Elliot assured her confidently.
"Well, please let us know if he wakes up." Bree requested.
"Of course, of course." Dr. Elliot said, giving them a toothy smile that reminded Bree of Lockhart.
"Right. Let's go Clara." Bree said, guiding the girl out.
They could see the lights from the Sheriff's station through the fog and started walking toward them.
"What are you doing?" someone demanded sharply. Bonnie had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, but that was probably just because of the fog.
"We were going to see the Sheriff about his busted radio." Bree replied.
"That thing has been busted for ages, you'd be better off trying to find some other way out of town. Other people have tried to fix it without any luck." Bonnie replied.
"Are there more people living in the town?" Bree questioned. "Lorraine said most of them left after the mill burned down."
"No, everyone else left, I'm talking about other people that got trapped in the town because their vehicle broke down or something similar. I've always tried to leave with them but..." Bonnie trailed off. "Look, I can't talk about it now, someone might overhear, but there's really something wrong with this town. Meet me by the town sign in an hour, I'll tell you everything then." Bonnie walked back into the fog.
"Well, that was interesting." Bree commented. She looked at a Clara. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."
"I didn't want to say anything, but I saw a phone behind the front desk at the hotel. I tried to make a call but it said that the location I was dialing from didn't exist anymore." Clara replied. Bree was quiet for a moment.
"Pretty much the same thing happened when I tried the phone at the clinic." she finally said.
"What do you think it means?" Clara whispered.
"I don't know, but I guess we'll find out in an hour." Bree replied. "Until then let's go back to the hotel."
"Does this place seem dustier to you?" Bree asked.
"Maybe it blew in from the vents?" Clara suggested.
"Oh, you're back! Did you get the radio working?" Lorraine interjected suddenly. She shawl was looking a bit gray and her frock was slightly faded.
"No, I didn't even go the station yet. Clara and I went to go check on the driver instead." Bree replied.
"Oh, Clara dear, you're so pale! You simply must come have some tea with me." Lorraine insisted. "Nothing makes me feel better than a nice hot cup of tea."
They went with Lorraine to a small dining room with blue wallpaper, white drapes, and a chandelier that's candles had light bulbs instead of flames.
"Sit, sit." Lorraine told Clara, pulling a cushioned chair out for her. "You rest here, I'll go to the kitchen make the tea." She turned to Bree. Could you please get us some cups from the china cabinet?"
"Alright." Bree answered.
Lorraine smiled. "Thank you dear, I'll be right back."
Bree had a quick sip of polyjuice while Clara was looking away before she got three cups and saucers from the china cabinet by the window and set them on the round table Clara had been seated at. Lorraine was back a few minutes later with a teapot, a sugar bowl, and some creamer on a serving tray.
"Here we are dears, nice and hot." she said as she poured them each a cup of tea.
"So, what can you tell us about the town's history?" Bree asked.
"Oh, I know just everything there is to know." Lorraine replied. "Back when it was founded the settlers saw that the area was lush and green and prefect for growing things. My husbands family built a plantation that was very successful. After the war they sold off most of their land and built a mill, which provided jobs for the community and the town flourished. There were some difficult times during the depression, but the town made it through, and my husband's family still had quite a bit of money."
Lorraine sighed sadly. "My family, though, lost everything during the depression. My sister was lucky enough to marry dear Thomas and they soon had a little girl. Unfortunately my poor sister fell ill so I came to take care of her. Her condition deteriorated until she was unable to even get out of bed and she passed away. I stayed in house. After all, my parents had passed and little Maisie was the only family I had left. Thomas and I... Well eventually we fell in love and he asked me to marry him. I said yes, and for a time, we were happy, but then Maisie came down with the same illness that took her mother. Thomas was beside himself with grief and one day he just went out and never came back."
Clara gasped. "That's terrible."
"Yes, it was." Lorraine agreed. "But my husband had left me enough money to live quite comfortably and with the income from the mill I never had to work. And I still had my looks. I was quite beautiful in my younger days, men would do anything for me." She smiled at the memory. "I used to through the best parties, wore the best clothes, the best clothes, and the best jewelry. All the young woman wanted to be just like me."
Her expression turned sad again. "Age eventually caught up to me, even with all the wrinkle creams and miracle products. People stopped visiting me, save for the doctors I called up to keep these old bones in working order. I bought this hotel and moved in to be closer to everyone. Then a fire devastated the mill and everyone began to leave our beloved town." Bree saw something dark in her eyes. "What's left are the people reluctant to leave a place with so many memories."
Nothing else particularly interesting was said at the tea party. Bree realized that it would soon be time to meet Bonnie and managed to dismiss herself and Clara rather easily. When they entered the lobby it had quite noticeably aged. There were thick layers of dust and cobwebs, the paint was peeling and the carpet was threadbare.
Tony and Carolina seemed oblivious to the altered stated of the room. They were too busy making out... or trying to eat each other. Whichever it was it was really intense, and kind of gross.
"So you're not worried about the rapidly deteriorating state of the hotel we'll be staying in for the foreseeable future?" Bree asked. There was no reply.
"Just me? Swell. Let's go Clara."
"That was, uh..." Clara said after the had left the hotel.
"Yeah." Bree said, checking her watch as they approached the town sign. "Does this road seem different to you?"
"Different how?" Clara asked.
Bree shrugged. "I don't know, it just seems off somehow."
"Maybe because we were coming from the other direction last time." Clara suggested.
"Maybe." Bree agreed.
Bonnie suddenly appeared out of the fog. The edges of her dress were tattered and frayed, her sweater was gray and moth eaten and her skin looked pale and waxy."There you are! I was worried you wouldn't come! I know it must sound crazy but there is something really wrong with this town. The only people that come here anymore are the ones that don't have a choice. Their cars just stop working, or something darts across the road and they crash. I've tried to help them out but nothing works. Then they get a room at the hotel and they start to change. It's like that place brings out the worst in people, or maybe it's just the town itself. Eventually they just disappear without a trace."
"You don't think they're finding a way out on their own?" Bree questioned. "I mean worst comes to worst you can always just walk out and hitchhike."
"No, I've tried that, and well, just see for yourself." Bonnie replied.
"So what? Just start walking?" Bree asked. Bonnie nodded, so Bree and Clara.
Walking toward the town there had only been a single turn, but walking away from it, the road became a twisted winding path, leading them around in circles. Bree tried poking at it with her magic to see if it was some sort of spell like the one that kept muggles away from Hogsmeade. It wasn't, it really, really wasn't. Whatever it was was twisted and dark. Eventually Bree and Clara ended up back and the town sign where Bonnie was waiting for him.
"See what I mean?" she asked. "The only ones that can leave are people that intend to come back, like the Sheriff. And if you try to leave through the woods the same thing happens. You just end up right back where you started. Something is keeping people trapped here. Back when this all first started the pastor and I were working together to figure out what was going on, but he disappeared a while ago."
"When exactly did this start?" Bree asked.
"After the mill burned and people started leaving. Then the fog rolled in... Although now that I think about it people were acting a bit strangely before that." Bonnie answered.
"Strange how?" Clara asked.
Bonnie hesitated. "They just weren't themselves anymore."
"You said you were working with the pastor at first, right? Maybe he left something behind that can give us a hint." Bree stated.
"That's possible." Bonnie agreed. "I wish I could offer more help, but I have to get back to the clinic or Dr. Elliot might get suspicious."
"It's starting to get dark." Clara stated. "Well, darker." She amended after Bree gave her an funny look. They had been looking for the church for a couple of hours without any luck. The fog had turned the streets into a confusing maze of abandoned buildings. Fortunately for Bree, Clara hadn't commented on her the occasional sips she took from her flask.
"I wish Bonnie had given us directions." Bree replied.
"What are you ladies doing out here?" Sheriff Vogel asked, stepping suddenly into view. His uniform was frayed and his badge was rusted.
"Just walking around." Bree answered. "There's not much else to do around here."
"Well, it'll be getting dark soon, you should go back to the hotel. These streets aren't safe at night." Vogel advised before taking a big gulp of something from a flask of his own.
"We will." Bree responded. Vogel tipped his hat and walked back into the fog.
"I guess we should ask Bonnie for directions to the Church tomorrow." Clara said.
"Yeah. Let's head back." Bree replied. They started walking in the direction they thought the hotel was in. Admittedly, Bree could have used the point me spell to navigate, but she didn't want to risk it with Clara around.
Bree saw something dart past them in the fog and was going to ask Clara about it but the teenager beat her to the punch.
"Do you smell that?" she asked. Bree stopped and sniffed the air.
"Yeah, it smells kind of smokey." she replied, walking into the alley that the smell was coming from, Clara followed. They found John leaning against a wall, holding a joint between his fingers.
"I've been thinking," he began, taking a long drag before he continued. "What if we all died on that bus and this is limbo?"
"I think that's the probably the pot talking." Clara replied.
"We saw the Sheriff around here not to long ago. You might want to put that out." Bree suggested. John snuffed out the joint and put it in his pocket.
"It's not just the pot. There is something wrong with this town. The people, the fog, even the buildings. And I've seen this shadow out there, moving around just out of sight." he said.
"I've seen something too." Bree told him. "Just before the bus crash, and just now near one of the back streets. And that's not all, when Tony and I went out to check on things and I found the spot where the bus went off the road. There was some kind of black goo infecting one of the trees."
"You didn't mention that when you came back." Clara pointed out.
"I thought getting out of there was more important than figuring out what caused the crash, but if we're seeing the thing that caused the crash all over town..." Bree trailed off.
"Maybe we should go back to the bus." John suggested.
Clara shook her head. "We tried. It was like the road kept doubling back on itself so we'd end up back in town."
"Bonnie told us that the only people that can leave town anymore are the ones that intend to come back." Bree added.
"What else did Bonnie tell you?" John questioned.
"She was working with the priest to escape the town, but then he vanished, and she said that we aren't the first people to have gotten trapped in the town and the others had their personalities change before they disappeared." Clara answered. Her stomach suddenly let out a loud grumble.
"It's been awhile since I've eaten." she said.
"Yeah, Lorraine set something out in the dining room for everyone, but I wouldn't trust it." John replied. "I have some MREs in my bag, I'm just going to eat that."
"You carry MREs with you wherever you go?" Clara questioned.
"You don't?" Bree asked in false surprise.
Clara grimaced. "I've heard they're not really that good."
"Good enough for our troops." Bree replied. "Are you saying you're better than our troops?"
"No, of course not!" Clara exclaimed.
"Then you'll eat some MREs with us." Bree said.
"Yes." Clara answered. "Wait, what?"
Bree grinned. "Too late, you already agreed to it!"
"Why don't you want to eat Lorraine's food anyway?" Clara questioned. "You already drank her tea."
Bree's grin fell. "No, I pretended to drink it."
"Why?" Clara pushed.
"Because she gives me the creeps and she takes special care not to touch me hen we interact. Like when she was handing me the key to my room." Bree replied.
"You don't think..." John began.
"Don't think what?" Bree questioned.
John frowned. "Well, she's an old lady, and this is the south."
"You're saying she's racist." Clara stated.
Bree blinked and glanced down at her skin. "Ah, and here I almost forgot what color my skin was."
"You don't have to be so sarcastic." Clara replied.
Bree shrugged. She actually wasn't being sarcastic, she was just getting more used to Shauna's form.
Bree headed back to her room after eating with Clara and John and found Tony leaning next to the door to her room.
"Hey Shauna, I haven't seen you all day, where have you been?" he asked.
"Not here." Bree replied.
"Aw, don't be like that. We might be here for awhile, we should be nicer to each other." Tony said, smiling. He put an arm around Bree's shoulders. "Why don't we going your and get to know each other better."
"I have a boyfriend, and I'm pretty sure you have a girlfriend, from the way I saw you and Carolina going at it earlier." Bree responded.
"I don't see either of them here now." Tony replied, sliding his arm lower and squeezing while forcibly kissing Bree. Bree kneed him between the legs, causing Tony to let go of her and clutch his groin. Bree kicked him in the knees hard enough to get him on the floor, then kicked him in the ribs.
"Leave, before I do worse." Bree snarled. Tony scrambled to his feet and ran. Bree turned and was about to unlock the door to her room when she noticed something. The end of the hall was a dead end. One of the corners looked especially dark, even with the shadows created by the flickering lights. Bree looked closer and found more tendrils of black goo radiating from a corners were the wall met the floor. As an experiment, Bree got out some salt and threw it at the goo. It retreated into the corner until it could no longer be seen leaving rotting carpet and wallpaper behind.
Bree turned and headed back to her room. She unlocked the door and turned on the lights. A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and landed on the bed. The wallpaper was peeling, and the bedding looked threadbare and moth eaten. Bree sighed, then put a line of salt around the entire room before vanishing the plaster and using reparo on the ceiling. Hopefully find a way to escape the town in the morning because she didn't want to stay there for another night.
Bree got up the next morning and went to find Clara. Instead, she found Nathan in the lobby.
"I didn't see you yesterday." she said.
"I went to the Sheriff's station to see if I could fix the radio." Nathan explained. "It's pretty old and missing some parts, including the mic. I can't change the frequency so right now all it's picking up is some garbled radio station."
"At least you don't have to open it up and mess with any of the wires." Bree replied. "And who knows, maybe one of the shops around here will have the parts you need."
"Maybe." Nathan agreed.
"Anyway, I was looking for Clara, have you seen her?" Bree asked.
Nathan frowned. "She's upstairs trying to get John up. I get the feeling he's not a morning person."
"Thanks." Bree replied. "Good luck with the radio."
Bree found Clara and John coming down the stairs.
John yawned. "What's the rush anyway? It's too damn early."
"The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of this town." Clara replied.
"Did you two eat?" Bree asked.
Clara grimaced. "Yeah, we had more MREs."
Bree nodded. "Good, I did too."
"I don't know why you two are so suspicious of the food, Lorraine's just an old woman." Clara said quietly.
"Little old ladies make the best killers." Bree responded just as quietly. "No one suspects them."
"Nothing bad has happened to the others." Clara pointed out.
"Not all poison take one dose." Bree told her. "Besides, we don't know what's going on in this town or what's causing it. We need to be careful."
"What about Bonnie? You seem to trust her." Clara said.
"She's the only lead we have." Bree stated. "Let's just go."
They went to the Lobby, Nathan had left and Tony and Carolina were snuggled up on one of the couches. Tony grinned a Clara when Carolina wasn't looking, but flinched when he saw Bree's glare.
"What was that about?" John asked when they got outside.
"Bastard tried to assault me last night in the hall so I beat him up." Bree replied. "Afterward I saw more of the goo at the end of the hall."
"Think the two are related?" Clara asked. "I mean Bonnie said that people started to change after checking in to the hotel."
Bree shrugged. "I know how to get rod of it know at least."
"How?" John asked.
"Salt." Bree answered. "Just sprinkle a little on it and it disappears."
Clara gave her a questioning look. "Why would you think of doing that in the first place?"
"A lot of cultures believe that salt has purifying powers." Bree answered. I always carry it with me along with a little silver and holy water, and I've been considering getting some cat's eye shells, but that might be necessary now that I've got a mojo bag."
Clara blinked. "Wow, so you're really into that Supernatural stuff."
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Bree replied.
"Do you carry around a shotgun loaded with rock salt too?" Clara joked.
"What?" Bree asked, surprised.
"Like in the book series, Supernatural." Clara replied. "Two brothers travel around in a cool car hunting monsters, saving people? One of my foster sisters was really into it." She added after Bree gave her an uncomprehending look.
"Never heard of it." Bree replied. "But really. What idiot is writing about that kind of thing? It's bad enough we have wannabe summoners that have no idea what they're doing, the last thing we need is more misinformation or some teenagers thinking they can be hunters just because they read about in a book!" she ranted.
Clara looked shocked. "But that's not, I mean, it's not real, right? People don't go around hunting monsters. Monsters aren't real."
Bree sighed. "Clara we are trapped in a town that is aging and falling apart right before our eyes, including the people, and black goo shows up where bad things happen. Salt gets rid of the goo, so let's just take this one step at a time and see what works and what doesn't, then we'll continue this discussion once we're finally out of this town."
"Okay." Clara replied.
"Now, let's find Bonnie." Bree said.
Bonnie wasn't at the clinic, though Dr. Elliot was. He told them that the driver was still unconscious and that he had sent Bonnie out to do a few errands. Bree couldn't imagine any errands that could be done in the nearly empty town, but didn't say anything.
They went to look for Bonnie around the shops and eventually they found her, or she found them.
"Well to you find anything at the church?" she asked.
"We didn't even find the church." Bree replied. "We did find John though, he's going to help us."
"Oh, that's good that you have more help." Bonnie replied. "I should have remembered to give you directions. With this fog the streets can be a maze if you don't know where you're going. To get to the church you need to go down the side street next to the hotel until you get to the second intersection then turn right, then take the first left, then the third right. The church is next to the parsonage."
"Thank you." Bree replied.
"Your welcome." Bonnie said. "Oh and be careful around the Sheriff. There are rumors. They say he has a violent temper."
"We will." Clara stated.
"Good luck. I wish I could be more helpful, but I have to get back to the clinic." Bonnie said.
"It's fine, don't worry about it." Bree responded. "See you later Bonnie."
"Right. See you later." Bonnie said before disappearing into the fog.
"Does anyone else think it's odd how she appears and disappears seamlessly into the fog?" John asked as they walked toward the hotel. "Because that's just creepy."
"Yeah, I just file it with all the other stuff that's wrong with this town and move on because I think it's all tied together and we'll figure it out eventually." Bree answered. "Takes less time then treating it all as separate stuff."
The walk to the church was longer than Bree expected and she had to pause once to take a sip of polyjuice.
"Did you see that?" John asked.
"See what?" Clara asked.
"There was something moving in the fog." John replied.
"Let's just keep moving." Bree responded, keeping a wary eye on the surrounding fog. There were a lot of places for someone to hide. Narrow alleyways between buildings, rooftops, or just far enough away to be concealed by the fog. "Whatever is out there will have just as much trouble seeing us as we are seeing it... probably."
"You don't sound that sure." Clara stated.
"We still don't know what's out there, so we don't know how safe it really is." Bree told her. "Let's get going, the next turn is just up ahead."
They kept walking in silence until John stopped and stared into a a gap between two buildings. His jaw was clenched tightly and is hands were balled into fists.
"What is it?" Bree asked.
"I thought I saw... never mind. It was just my mind playing tricks on me." John answered. "I'm pretty stressed out, I need to relax." He pulled a joint out of his pocket and sat down on the curb.
"You two go on, I'll catch up later." He said.
"You're not worried about whatever is out there?" Clara questioned.
John shrugged. "It hasn't really done anything directly."
"Right." Bree said skeptically, but she continued walking anyway.
The church was the typical long and narrow white building topped with a steeple. Bree paused just outside the door and looked around.
"Something wrong?" Clara questioned.
"There's no fog." Bree stated.
"What?"
"There's no fog." Bree repeated. "Not on the Church grounds or around the parsonage."
Clara look around. "It's like we're in a glass box and the fog can't get in."
"That proves that the fog is unnatural and probably evil, or at least has an evil source." Bree replied.
"How?"
"Holy ground. Evil forces tend to avoid it." Bree explained. "Especially the demonic ones."
Clara flinched. "You don't really think there's something like that going on, do you?"
Bree shrugged and started working the door open. "I'm not going to rule anything out yet."
"Is it locked?" Clara asked.
"No. Moisture made the door swell up and it's stuck in the door jam." Bree replied. She finalled got the door open by kicking it a couple of times.
Bree sneezed because of the dust that had been stirred up. "At least this building isn't hiding it's age." she muttered.
The church's interior was covered in dust and cobwebs. The stained glass was cracked and a few pieces of it had fallen on the floor, flowering vines had invaded through one windows, and some of the pews showed signs of dryrot.
There wasn't anything that hinted at was was going on in the town. Bree found a storage room and went in. It was mostly full of things that might have once been used as part of services, along with an alms box and a nativity that would have been put out around Christmas, but again, there was nothing particularly useful.
"Let's go check out the parsonage." Bree said.
The parsonage was a rather normal looking two story house with peeling yellow paint and an overgrown garden. Inside was also normal, if extremely dusty and aged. On the first floor there was a sitting room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small study with bookselves full of religious texts and a few novels. There wasn't anything there that indicated that the pastor was anything other than a normal man, except for the lack of photographs and the absence of any personal objects with sentimental value.
Bree was about to go upstairs when Clara noticed something behind the peeling blue wallpaper.
"Look at this!" she exclaimed as she ripped a section of it away revealing symbols and runes that had been painted on the wall.
"Do you think the pastor was involved in the occult?" Clara questioned.
Bree shook her head. "No. It's all protective."
"How do you know?" Clara asked.
"Defense class." Bree replied.
Clara looked skeptical. "What kind of defense class did you take?"
"The kind that prepares you for the absolute worst." Bree answered. "Let's check out the upstairs."
The door at the top of the stairs was locked but Bree had the lock pick she had taken from Jimmy's shop in Mission City. She pretended to get it out of the pocket of her rain coat so Clara wouldn't think she had pulled it out of thin air and then went to work.
The top floor was very different from the bottom floor. In the bedroom there was a case full of guns, knifes, and ammo. The second floor study was full of reference books for any and every kind of monster, books on runes, books on lore. There was a cabinet full of things like Holy water and Van Van oil.
"You were right about those being protective symbols." Clara said as she looked through a book. "But I don't understand why a pastor would be using symbols from other religions."
"The pastor wasn't just a pastor. His kind uses whatever works, doesn't matter where it comes from." Bree replied.
"And what was he?" Clara pushed.
"A hunter." Bree answered as she walked over to the desk inside the study. It was strewn with papers, books, and newspaper clippings. Bree frowned as she went trough them, pocketing a few and making a mental note of the dates.
"But, it's not real. Those books aren't real. Monsters aren't real." Clara protested, her eyes wide.
Bree sighed. "I already told you Clara, we'll talk about it later. For now let's just figure out what-" Bree cut herself off.
"What is it?" Clara asked.
"A letter." Bree replied, holding a up an aged piece of paper. "To Whom it may concern, if you're reading this then I have have failed in my mission to free the town from the evil force that has taken hold of it. I don't know how yet, but I am certain that the hotel owner, Lorraine, has summoned or created a create most vile. I suspect she is a murderer, poison being her weapon of choice. If you intend to finish my work then first you must protect yourself from the corruptive forces in the town. There are instructions in my desk's top drawer and ingredients can be found in both the cabinet in my study and in the garden. I leave now to find answer and am taking a few books with and I apologize if you have need of them. I pray your actions prove more fruitful than mine, Nicolas D. Lowell."
Bree opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out the only piece of paper that was inside. "Let's see, devil's bane, devil's shoestring, holy water, salt, agrimony, cat's eye shells, white clover flowers, and van van oil."
"And what are we supposed to do with it?" Clara asked.
"Make mojo bags." Bree replied. "Well, one of us is supposed to anyway because apparently the energies can get contaminated during assembly and since you're kind of a skeptic you'll be expecting it not to work, so it won't work."
"And since you believe it work, if you do it it'll work." Clara stated.
"Exactly." Bree said. "But you can still help with ingredients.
The cabinet had holy water, salt, cat's eye shells, van van oil and devil's shoestring so they only needed three ingredients for the garden and after looking through one of Lowell's books so they knew what the plants looked like they went out the back door with a couple of baskets that had been liberated from a closet.
"Look, the sun came out." Clara said, pointing out the obvious.
"Only over the church and parsonage." Bree replied. It was an odd sight, the perfect rectangle of light surrounded on all sides by a thick fog.
"That is bizarre." Clara declared as they walked over to the garden gate. The wooden gate wouldn't budge but was fortunately opened for them to squeeze in. The garden had been divided into four sections, three were devoted to plants while the forth had a couple of benches and a decorative bird bath.
It had obviously been neglected for some time, runner beans spilled out over the fence, flowers and vegetables mingled together with weeds and tall grasses. The fence was falling apart in places, letting squash plants escape. There were tomatoes, carrots, and lettuce interspersed with lavender, mint, and rosemary and wildflowers provided splashed of color where you would least expect them.
"This isn't going to be easy." Clara said.
Bree took a swig of polyjuice. "No, it won't be."
It took over an half an hour to collect enough flowers and leaves for the mojo bags. Bree felt like they were being watched the entire time and even though the sun was shining over the parsonage and the church there was still something unsettling about the place. She stopped just outside the door as she and Clara were making their way back into the house.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Clara asked.
"Listen." Bree instructed.
Clara was quiet for a moment. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly." Bree replied. "There's nothing. No bird's, no insects, not even a breeze."
Clara listened again. "That's just... Let's get inside."
Bree cleared off the desk in the second floor study to use as a work space and set out the ingredients.
"What am I supposed to do while you're doing that?" Clara asked.
"I don't know, maybe find something we can eat for lunch." Bree suggested. "Otherwise we'll be having MREs again."
"I guess I could try making a souffle." Clara said. The statement made Bree pause for a moment.
"With what?" she questioned. "I'm pretty sure you'd need eggs and milk, which would have gone off by now even if the power was working."
"I guess you're right. Maybe I can get some vegetables from that garden and see if the pastor left anything canned." Clara replied.
"I'll come down when I'm done and help." Bree told her.
Clara nodded and left the room, shutting the door as she went. Bree sighed and looked over the ingredients and small flannel bags on the table. She pulled out the mojo bag Miss Zibi had given her and ran her thumb over the stitches that kept it closed.
"I wonder, just what did Miss Zibi put into you?" she said before tucking it away again. She picked up the first bag.
"So, uh, hi there, the instructions say I'm supposed to talk to you, but not what to say, they suggest, like, prayers and bible verses asking for protection and basically telling you what your job is because I should consider you a living thing which is actually par the course for my life lately." she told it. "So I guess I'm making you to protect someone from this evil entity take has taken over the town and it's ability to corrupt people so that's why I'm going to fill you with things that are used for protection."
She picked up green leaf. "Agrimony leaf. It undoes jinxes and curses that have already been put on someone. A pinch of salt is protective and purifying on it's one but also makes the agrimony stronger."
After adding the salt Bree picked up a round shell that resembled an eye. "Cat's eye shell for protection."
She picked up another green leaf. "Devil's bane, also know as vervain, it's been used for protection throughout history." Next was something resembling a small twig. "Devil's shoestring, another protection, mostly for things more, ah, demonic in nature, like hellhounds. That leaves the white clover flower, for luck and protection from evil."
Bree sewed that bag shut, then sprinkled it with holy water and van van oil.
"For purification, protection, and a little boost in power." she explained. She held the bag with both hands and closed her eyes, focusing on her magic like she would when doing bush magic. Instead of pushing it out into the ground she took a deep breath directed it into her lungs, mixing it with the air inside them before breathing out onto the bag.
This was the real reason Clara couldn't make the bags. The instructions called for a magi to breathe life into them, which meant that either Lowell was a magi, or he knew one.
Bree opened her eyes after feeling the bag fill with warmth.
"Hi." she said softly. "Please do good work once I give you too the person you need to protect, even if they don't believe that's no reason for them to get hurt. And they'll probably believe soon anyway." The bag seem to warm up a bit more in response. Bree set it down gently and repeated the process several times, growing more confident with what she was doing with each completed bag.
When she was done she put the bags into one of the baskets and and covered them with a handkerchief and went downstairs. She found Clara in the kitchen, fiddling with the wood burning stove. She had gathered enough vegetables forr the two of them and set them one the table.
"Looks like the church couldn't pay for an upgrade." Bree commented.
"Yeah, I want to get this thing working so I can boil the beans." Clara replied.
"There's water?" Bree questioned.
"There's an old well. I think it's been awhile since anyone has maintained the plumbing." Clara answered.
Eventually they got the stove lighted and washed the vegetables.
"So I take it you didn't find any canned food." Bree said as she stirred a mixture of squash, carrots, onions, and a bit of garlic in a pan.
"I did, but I think is was probably left by the pastor before Lowell." Clara explained. "It was really old, expired decades ago."
"It would probably still be safe to eat as long as it's still sealed." Bree replied. "Commercially produced canned food doesn't rot or grow bacteria, so it's mostly an issue of how much nutrition is lost and how much the texture changes, but I wouldn't want to try it unless I had absolutely no other choice."
"How do you know that?" Clara asked.
"Emergency survival class." Bree said a bit too quickly. "The beans are starting to boil, can you find something to stir them with?"
Lunch was a bit of an awkward affair. The meal itself was okay for what it was but there wasn't really and opportunity to talk after Bree had given Clara a mojo bag since they were both busy eating.
"That's a nice ring." Bree said, trying to break the silence. The silver band with a single diamond set in it didn't really match Clara's brightly colored clothing, but it had a simple elegance.
"Thanks." Clara replied. "It was my Mom's. She wanted to travel and see the world and I feel like if I keep it with me I can show her all the places she never got to see... I guess that sounds kind of silly."
"No, it's kind of nice really, I mean, if you think of it that way then you're not really traveling all alone like me." Bree told her. The silence returned.
"I've been thinking." Clara stated abruptly. "You've been hiding things from me."
"Yeah." Bree said slowly. "I thought it was pretty clear that we'd talk about it later."
"That's what people say when they want to to avoid talking about things!" Clara exclaimed. "There's no point in keeping secrets to try because you think I can't handle it and you're trying to keep me safe."
"I'm not trying to keep you safe, I'm trying to keep me safe!" Bree shouted.
Clara stood up. "We're not safe!"
Bree sighed tiredly, leaned back in her chair, and checked her watch. "Actually, this one of the least dangerous situations I've been in for almost a year. Sure there's a weird shadow and you can't trust the townspeople, but so far no one has tried to kidnap, torture, or murder me, but you do have a point. It's pretty much a given that reality is going to smack you in the face before we get out of this town and it's probably better that you're prepared for it so you won't freak out and get killed, but what I'm about to tell you I'm not really supposed to tell anyone, not unless they already know."
Clara sat back down. "You make it sound like some sort of conspiracy."
"It is." Bree replied. "That's one of the reasons I was trying to get you to wait until this whole thing was taken care of so I could ditch you and not explain anything because frankly it'd probably be better for both of us that way because if I tell you the truth it will shatter the illusion that is your so called normal life. And that's illegal and I think there's jail time and maybe a fine involved, but I could claim that you would have found out anyway because of the town's weirdness, but then again I'm legally dead so it might actually be Shauna who get's in trouble-"
"What was that about you being dead?" Clara interrupted.
Bree grimaced. "Yeah, that, I was murdered. My heart stopped because of all the blood loss, I mean, they did get it beating again, but someone, not me I was unconscious, decided it would be better if everyone thought I was dead so I've been borrowing Shauna's identity for awhile, partly because my face was all over the news mostly so the people that are after me don't find me."
"But just using someone's ID doesn't change the way you look." Clara pointed out.
Bree noticed that her skin was lightening. "Right and here comes the first reality shattered revelation. Magic is real. Watch carefully" Shauna's dark skin slowly became lighter and her hair lightened as it grew. Her body shifted and rearranged itself until Bree was left in her own body and clothing that didn't quite fit right. Clara gasped.
"Hi." Bree said, waving a little.
"But how is that even-" Bree cut Clara off.
"Polyjuice potion. Only works for an hour so you have to keep drinking it, hence the flask."
Clara eyes darted around, taking in Bree's changed appearance.
"Aren't you the girl the Joker killed?" she asked.
Bree threw her hands up. "And there it is! Kind of hard to blend into the crowd when your face has made the front page as the Joker's latest victim."
"Right so, magic. If you have magic why didn't you use it to escape from the Joker?" Clara asked.
"I did. And then I tried to kill him. It didn't go well." Bree replied tersely.
"Okay then, so do you think magic is involved with what's going on here?" Clara asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah, but it's not a kind of magic I'm familiar with." Bree replied. "But I'm going to guess it's something really dark."
"So you don't have any idea how to counter it?" Clara pressed.
"You'd have better luck asking a geologist about string theory." Bree answered. "On the bright side I don't have to be careful about using magic in front of you, so that makes things easier."
"So why couldn't you tell me sooner?" Clara questioned.
"It's illegal." Bree reminded her.
"I know that." Clara responded. "But why is it illegal?"
"Fear." Bree replied. "There are things in the universe that "normal" people are better off not knowing. The universe is vast and complicated and there is more to it and more to this tiny speck of blue we live on then anyone person could possibly know. Monsters and magic. Secret invasions, ancient conspiracies, and people that don't come back out of the dark. Somewhere a world is burning, a star is disappearing, and someone is going home. Somewhere a vampire is feasting, a banshee is screaming, and a werewolf is waiting for the next full moon.
Bree leaned forward. "And the truth about it all would make people afraid. Fear can make people lash out. Fear is what made our precursors hide. But some have forgotten their ancestors fear and deluded themselves into thinking they're better than anyone without magic. But they'll remember that fear. Well, either that or they'll die since they're a bunch of racist bastards and bullets travels faster than spells, which is why I carry a gun."
"You have a gun on you right now?" Clara questioned.
"Sort of, I'm actually not quite sure where it goes when I put it away." Bree replied. "Watch."
Bree held out her hand and a Glock appeared from thin air. "Ta da."
"But, where did it- how did you do that?" Clara stammered.
The gun vanished and Bree pulled down her sleeves to show Clara the runes on her wrists. "These runes creates a space within space, I channel a little bit of magic while thinking of what I want, and suddenly I have it. I can carry a whole lot without the strain of actually having to haul it around."
"That's amazing." Clara said in awe.
"Magic can make things happen, wonderful and terrible things." Bree replied. "Speaking of, we should get going, John should of been here by now."
She took a sip of polyjuice, her form shifting back into Shauna's.
"That is so weird to watch." Clara stated.
"Imagine how it feels." Bree told her.
She shuddered. "I'd rather not."
"I could let you try it." Bree offered.
"No thank you." Clara replied. "So I take it you won't be telling any of the others about this."
"I might let them know about magic if it comes up, but I'm supposed to be dead. Kind of waste if I go around letting people know the truth." Bree answered. "Now let's go."
They retraced their steps until they found the spot John where John had stopped for a smoke break. He wasn't there, instead there was more black goo. Threads of it hung from a lamppost like slimy Spanish moss, longer strands coiled around the lamppost, corroding it as they wound their way down to the sidewalk.
"That is not a good sign." Bree muttered. "This goo has been showing up every time something bad happens. Well, the last two times anyway. It's becoming a pattern."
"We need to find John." Clara stated.
Bree sighed. "Hold on a minute." She tossed some salt at the goo. It let out a sharp squeal that sounded like multiple unearthly voices and shriveled until there was nothing left but the rusting lamppost.
"What do you think that stuff is?" Clara asked.
"Pure concentrated evil?" Bree guessed. Clara gave her a look.
"What?" Bree said defensively. "It's a good a guess as any."
"Let's go find John." Clara said.