Hey everyone!

Writing this chapter was SO much fun! Hopefully you'll see why by the end of the chapter! I hope that the whole reveal in the last chapter with some of Fang's past and the strange powers the Fourth Eye of Mab is giving Elijah was not too much. I'm doing my best to build the tension and work my way up to the climax, all while giving you interesting chapters.

Also, I forgot to write something last chapter about posting the 25th chapter for this story. So, instead of that, I'll celebrate this being the 26th chapter of this story! It actually works out better, since I was born on May 26th, so it seems more fitting.

Anyway, here's Chapter 26 of the story! Enjoy!

Into the Eye

Tuesday April 8, 1997

Mrs. Flemming was saying something about assignments for the Spring Singing Competition, but Elijah simply sat in his seat as his mind clamored with a symphony of unspoken voices.

Can she hurry up and finish already? The bell rang five minutes ago!

My feet hurt.

I wonder if Tim knows that I made out with his girlfriend.

Why is she still talking about the stupid contest? It's not like I'm gonna get a solo anyway.

I'm. So. BORED!

I wonder what mom's cooking for dinner tonight.

If Larry isn't waiting for me when I get out of here I'll dump him again!

I should tell him, but what if he knocks me flat on my ass?

I never get a solo.

And my arm hurts, too.

I hope it's pasta.

Elijah shut his eyes, trying to block his classmates' thoughts from his mind. The noises dimmed, growing fainter in his head, and a few seconds later were gone. He gave a small sigh of relief, but jumped a little when Mrs. Flemming turned towards him.

"I hope I'm not boring you, Mr. Robbins," she said.

"N-N-No, ma'am," he said quickly, sitting up in his seat as the choir director turned back to address the rest of the group.

Looks like Elijah Shithead's getting what he deserves. This thought came from Art, and it took everything in the deaf teen had to not turn around and glare at him. However, he felt someone touch his arm, and looked over to see Amanda looking at him with a worried expression.

"You okay," she mouthed, her long and curly hair tied back in a ponytail [she had decided against cutting her hair]. He nodded a little, and the two turned back to face the teacher as she finally finished her spiel and released them for the day.

Everyone immediately got up, the sound of chairs scraping back and backpacks being grabbed blending in with the noise of everyone talking at once. Kaleb and Kathy Bates were arguing, Art was bragging to someone about how he was pretty much guaranteed another solo this year, and Cecilia meekly went up to Mrs. Flemming to ask her a question.

"You've been really quiet this week," Amanda said quietly, the concerned expression still on her face as she shouldered her backpack. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered unenthusiastically, picking up his own backpack. His girlfriend frowned at him, but said nothing as they walked out of the room. She tried to hold hands as they walked through the halls, but he pulled his hand away, not wanting to end up in her memories.

It was a beautiful mid-April afternoon. The Spring weather was perfect, with clear blue skies and the warm sun shining down on the town of Weisman. Several students stood around the courtyard in front of the school, some talking with friends while others waited for their parents to pick them up.

"Well… I've got work tonight," Amanda told him, the worried expression still on her face. "You sure you're doing okay? Is something wrong at home or with you-know-who?" She was talking about the gargoyles. "If you wanna talk about it-"

"I'm fine," Elijah said shortly, immediately regretting how hars he sounded. "I'm sorry. I'm just… tired or something. I can't really explain it." He sighed. "I know it's not a very good excuse."

"I understand. Maybe you're coming down with something," she suggested, trying to feel his forehead before he stepped back away from her. "Elijah-"

"I'm just… not in the mood to bee around right now," he said, turning away from her and starting to walk away. "I'm sorry. I love you."

"I hope you feel better," she called after him. "Mrs. Flemming's posting the competition assignments tomorrow morning!" She smiled a little and waved at him, but as he got far enough away, her grin faded.

I love you too, she thought, turning and slowly walking away from the school to go to work.

[][][]

Once he got home, Elijah said hi to his uncle, who was still working on whatever secret book he had in the works. He had asked him a few times what it was about, but Uncle Jeffrey said he wanted to keep it a secret until it was published. Going up to his room, the teen locked the door behind him, taking a shoebox out from under his bed and opening it.

"How come it didn't work," Elijah whispered to himself, staring at the glowing green stone that sat in the box. He had thought that being away from the stone would stop the voices and the glowing hands and the glowing eyes, but it had not.

In first period, his hands had glowed for a few seconds, causing his pencil to float a few inches into the air before clattering back to his desk [it was pure luck that no one had noticed it]. Lunch had been like a nightmare, his head pounding with all the unspoken thoughts of hundreds of other students. At one point when he used the bathroom, he nearly broke the mirror when he saw that his reflection had glowing green eyes.

After what happened with Claw, it had not taken long for Elijah to realize that all of this crazy stuff started happening after he found the stone. Plus, the stone was the same color as that flash of light he had seen that day on the beach, and seemed to be the source of this strange new power.

"No more of this," he muttered, closing the box once more. But what would he do? If he still felt whatever power the stone gave off when he was miles away at school, how would getting rid of the stone stop it? And, while it scared him, the teen was also intrigued by this power, wondering how much he could do with it. It was almost tempting to just take the stone in his hand and see all that he could do…

"Elijah?" Thankfully, his uncle's call snapped him out of his thoughts, and the teen quickly pushed the box back under his bed, getting up and going downstairs.

"Hey, Gilly," Elijah whispered, scratching the service dog behind the ears as he walked up to his uncle, who was using a special machine to write his story in Braille. "What's up?"

"I just got a call from my publisher, and need to fly out to California to meet with him," Uncle Jeffrey said, pausing in his typing and turning towards his general direction. "I leave tomorrow and will be back Saturday."

The teen blinked with surprise, not expecting this piece of news. "Your publisher's in California," he asked incredulously.

"No, but he's in California at the moment, and asked if I wouldn't mind flying out to meet him to discuss some business."

"Is it about this new book you're writing?"

The blind man smiled secretly. "Partly," he replied, "but it's mainly about one of my previous books; apparently, Hollywood's interested in making a movie based on Gilgamesh the King."

"A movie," Elijah gasped. "Radical! Does that mean you're gonna say yes?"

"It depends on how much of the story they want to change," Uncle Jeffrey explained. "Most studios have a track record of making adaptations of books with many key details and plot points either missing or changed beyond recognition."

"So you're gonna see what they have in mind for the movie before you say yes?"

"Exactly. They can't make the movie unless I sell the rights to them, and I won't sell if I don't like what I hear."

"Does this mean you're gonna get more rich if you say yes?"

"I hope you're not waiting for me to die," his uncle said, laughing a little. "Or expecting me to buy you something.

"Well I wouldn't mind a car now that I'm sixteen," Elijah said in a hopeful tone, smiling a little.

"Nice try, but I think you should get your license first," the author replied. "Anyway, would you mind stay at Xanatos' for the next few nights?"

"I wouldn't mind, but what about school? It's kind of a long drive."

"I'm sure Mr. Xanatos' driver could take you to and from Weisman."

"Well, I guess I'll have to cancel that wild party I planned on throwing here," the teen joked. "But it'll be fun; I haven't been to the castle in a while. Do the gargoyles know yet?"

"We'll tell them tonight." Uncle Jeffrey turned back to his manuscript, the pages covered in bumps instead of printed words. "How's your homework going?"

"Haven't started yet, but I'll get started on it," Elijah said, walking out of the room.

"Good job."

I'm proud of you, Elijah.

The teen paused in the doorway of the library, smiling a little at this thought. He turned back to his uncle, whose head was filled with so many ideas that it was hard to focus on one, save for the one he had just heard. Still smiling, he walked out of the room, stopping by the kitchen for a snack before heading back up to his room to study.

[][][]

Wednesday April 9, 1997

As the sun set, the gargoyle statues on the parapets of Castle Wyvern started to crack, the eyes glowing right beneath the stone. Seconds later, the stone broke open as the gargoyles awoke, roaring loudly in the new night.

"Never gets old," Xanatos said, standing a few yards back to watch.

"Yeah," Elijah muttered, holding a hand to his eye, which was still swollen and purple. An ice pack was in his other hand, and he watched Brooklyn and the others turn around towards him.

"Elijah," Nashville said happily, jumping down from his perch and rushing over to him. "You're already here! When did you-" He pulled up short, noticing the teen's black eye. "What happened to your eye?"

"Mrs. Flemming gave me a solo for the Spring Singing Competition," he replied.

"I don't follow," Hudson said, frowning at the black eye.

"Apparently, Art sang a solo for the past two years, and was a little miffed that I got it instead of him." He sighed. "He got me right after lunch."

"I'll give him a solo to sing," Brooklyn said angrily. "It's called 'Hospital Blues!'"

"You go, dad," Nashville cheered.

"Brooklyn," Katana said, putting a hand on his shoulder. She said something to him in Japanese, seeming to calm him down. She then snapped something at Nashville, who lowered his head and mumbled an apology.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Xanatos spoke up.

"Since when did you understand Japanese," Broadway said.

"I may." The billionaire turned to Goliath. "I have an update on Thailog."

"What," Goliath asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"He was spotted at a electronics factory in Connecticut. Brentwood and a human female were with him."

"Better them than Demona," Lex whispered to Broadway.

"Are Coldstone and Coldfire around," Angela asked, looking around for the two robotic gargoyles.

"They went out on patrol," Xanatos replied, gesturing out to the city. "They should be back in twenty minutes."

"Brooklyn, you and I will talk with Xanatos," Goliath said. "The rest of you, get ready to go on patrol."

"C'mon, Elijah," Nashville said, grabbing the teen's hand and pulling him along. "Mrs. Xanatos rented Ferris Beuler's Day Off for us!"

"Wait, I-"

The young gargoyle grabbed Elijah's hand and led him into the castle, quickly followed by Bronx, before he could ask if he could join Brooklyn, Goliath and Xanatos. He wanted to ask about what had happened with Thailog, since he was curious about what kind of a threat he was. The past few times he had hung out with the gargoyles, he found himself spending most of the time with Nashville. Not that he disliked the young gargoyle, but he hated being left out of the adult conversations; even his Uncle Jeffrey had occasionally sent him out of the room so he could talk to Hudson or Brooklyn about something. It was getting annoying, to say the least.

"I can't wait to watch this movie," Nashville said excitedly, leading the teen into the living room and going straight to the TV. "Broadway said it's hilarious!"

"Yeah, it's great," Elijah said unenthusiastically, sitting down on the couch as Bronx took his usual position by Hudson's armchair.

"You sound down," the young gargoyle commented, putting the tape in the VCR. "Did you at least hit that Art guy back?"

"No," the teen said dejectedly, his foul mood continuing to fester. His eye no longer hurt, but he could barely see out of it, meaning that practicing his new song was out of the question; he doubted he could see the sheet music, much less the piano keys. "Maybe I could ask Goliath and Xanatos if I could join in on their meeting."

"Why," Nashville asked, turning back to him. "It's just a boring meeting. And I thought you weren't allowed."

"I wanna know what they're saying is all. I mean, you probably think it's boring because you live here, but I kinda want to listen in and see what's happening."

"But aren't you a little young-"

"I'm not too young," Elijah snapped, glaring at the gargoyle as Bronx perked his head up. "I'm technically older than you, and regardless if I'm old enough or not, I'd rather listen to something interesting than watch a stupid movie!"

Nashville looked shocked and a little scared, still kneeling by the TV as the tape whirred in the VCR. There were a few seconds of awkward silence, and Elijah sat back against the couch, closing his eyes and holding his head.

He sounds angry, Nashville was thinking. Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to. I was just trying to cheer him up.

Something's not right, someone else thought. Elijah looked over at the garg-dog with shock, not expecting to hear any thoughts coming from the silent clan member [especially ones in English]. This surprise was enough to bring him out of his funk, and he immediately felt remorseful.

"Sorry about that," he said, looking down and picking at the couch cushions with his fingers. "That was… I was just… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

Nashville did not answer right away, a worried look still on his face as Elijah caught a few snippets of scared thoughts. However, the young gargoyle soon smiled.

"It's okay," he replied. "You don't have to watch the movie if you don't want to. Or you can chose what we watch."

"This movie's fine," Elijah said, now smiling himself. "And it is pretty funny; I think you'll like it."

"Then let's start it already!" The gargoyle turned on the TV, walking back to the couch as the opening credits started to play. Bronx, meanwhile, still stared at Elijah with a fixed glance, as if sensing that something was still off. However, the teen and the gargoyle smiled, soon engrossed in the story of the best skip day ever.

[][][]

Since he had school the next day [and since he now had to be driven there all the way from New York City], Xanatos said that Elijah had to be in bed no later than 11:30. A little miffed but not complaining, the teen did so, falling asleep in one of the billionaire's many guest rooms.

However, sometime after one in the morning, Elijah woke up with a dry throat. Groggily getting out of bed, he walked into the adjoining bathroom, grabbing a glass and filling it with tap water. Standing in the bathroom, he sipped at the water as he looked at his tired reflection in the mirror.

At least the eyes aren't glowing, he thought, feeling his black eye with his free hand. Still hurts a little; Art should've gotten detention for this.

"Yeah," he muttered aloud to himself. "But all he got was a warning. As if that'll stop him from hitting me again."

And does that sound fair?

"Not really."

Want us to do something about it?

The teen froze mid-sip, wondering how that last thought had just gotten into his head. He certainly had not thought it, and it did not sound like his usual train-of-thought. Shivering a little, he turned back to his reflection, momentarily relieved to not see his eyes glowing, but not expecting to see someone standing behind him.

"Wha-" He dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor. Elijah immediately whirled around to see who was behind him but found nothing but the wall. Confused, and with a sense of dread coming over him, he turned back to the mirror to find the woman smiling at him.

She was very beautiful; her long, curly hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, and her skin was fair and without blemish. She had an almost regal stance to her, but her dark green eyes had a kind glint to them.

"Okay… now I'm seeing things," the teen muttered, blinking at the unfamiliar reflection.

"You're not," the woman replied, her voice silvery and bright. It sounded similar to the voice he had just heard in his head, except she was now speaking out loud. "It's nice to finally meet you, Elijah."

"Who… W-W-Who are you," he asked, a little freaked out but mainly intrigued, wondering who this beautiful woman was. "How do y-you know my name?"

"My name is Mab," she answered. "I know everything about you; I'm the source of power from that stone you found."

"Stone?" Elijah shook his head, trying to remember. "Oh yeah, the marble. Is that yours?"

"Yes, but now it belongs to you." She placed a hand on his shoulder in the reflection, and he gasped as he felt something press on his actual shoulder in real life. "I know it's a lot to take in, which is why I'm here. To help you understand and control your powers better."

"Powers…" The teen frowned a little. "So, I'm like a superhero now?"

Mab laughed a little, her smile bright and warm. "If you want," she said. "With this power, there's very little you can't do."

"Like what?"

"Well, look at you now. Haven't you noticed that you never put your hearing aids back in when you woke up?"

Elijah's mouth dropped open, and his hands flew to his ears. Sure enough, there was nothing there, but he could hear his own voice and that of Mab's. To test it, he snapped his fingers by his ears, spooked when he heard them loud and clear. He then quickly turned on the faucet, laughing a little when he heard the water gurgling in the sink. There was no distortion or mechanicalness; just pure, unblemished sound. He had not been able to hear without aids since he was five, and right now, he felt like a little kid again.

"How did you do that," he asked Mab.

"You did that," she replied. "You're the one with the power now: I'm just along for the ride."

"What… What else can I do?"

The woman smiled. "What do you want to do," she asked. "You could heal that black eye, but I think your uncle and friends would find it suspicious if it disappeared overnight."

"Yeah… And my hearing… how would I explain that," Elijah asked.

"You haven't permanently healed them; you're not that experienced with magic yet," Mab explained. "So you'll be deaf again by the morning." She noticed his downtrodden expression. "Don't worry. I can teach you how to make it permanent once you've improved your skills."

"Really," he asked hopefully.

"Of course! But right now, I think I know what you want to do."

The woman waved her hand, and the mirror's reflection rippled like water over a pond. When it stopped, Elijah was no longer looking at his reflection, but rather into a bedroom he did not recognize. Its general messiness, poster-covered walls and bedsheets showed that this was a teenage guy's room, as he looked at the scene, he saw someone crawling in through the window.

"Art," he asked, watching his bully quietly sneak back into the house, closing the window behind him.

Looks like someone broke curfew, Mab's voice said, now resonating in his head. Probably out causing trouble and hurting others. Not like you, Elijah; you went to bed at a reasonable time because you're a good, obedient boy.

"Obedient boy," Elijah muttered, a slightly glassy look in his eyes.

Yes, and you would never disobey me, would you?

"Of course not." Why would anyone want to disobey someone as kind as Mab?

Art should be punished for breaking curfew, Mab continued. Shouldn't he?

"Yeah…"

And he hurt you today. What if he decides to go after Amanda tomorrow? Elijah heard the sounds of Amanda's screaming in his head, followed by Art's laughter. His hands clenched into fists, and while he could not see them, he felt his eyes glow with anger.

"If he hurts her," he started to say.

But you won't let him hurt her, the woman whispered in his head, her voice soothing and kind. You won't let any of your friends and family get hurt. You can keep them safe and together forever with your powers. Even your parents-

"My parents?"

You can bring them back if you want to. But not yet… not until your powers have grown some.

"I can bring them… H-H-How do I get stronger," Elijah asked, watching Art sit down on his bed and start to take off his shoes.

It's very simple, Mab said. You practice, and you study, and you learn. Now, are you ready for your first lesson?

Elijah's fists were now glowing too, and the bathroom light flickered a little overhead. Mab's words seemed to echo in his head, burrowing themselves into his thoughts and mind. He slowly nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I'm ready."

[][][]

Art Reaves woke with a start, breathing heavily from the horrible nightmare he had just been in. His hands flew to his chest, feeling his body for broken bones and bruises that had been there moments before.

"What the fuck was that," he muttered to himself, running a hand over his mouth. He had the strangest dream that the deaf kid Elijah Robbins had crawled out of his mirror with glowing green. His face… it had looked so terrible and angry. The nightmare was stupid and strange, but it had felt so… so real.

"It's just a stupid nightmare," Art said to himself, throwing off his covers and getting out of bed. "It was just a-"

He froze as he realized that he and his bed were not in his room. They were… frankly, he had no idea where he was. A dark, flat plain stretched out in all directions with no landmarks or trees or anything. His bedroom was gone, and even though he looked around, he could not find anything familiar. The sky above him was blank, and there was no sound anywhere.

"What the… Am I still dreaming?" Art pinched himself, but did not wake up. He slowly stepped onto the ground, which was cold and smooth to the touch. A cool breeze made him shiver, and he hugged his arms as he looked around.

"Where the hell am I," he wondered, uneasiness and fear covering him like a blanket. "Where is everyone… Where is everything? Mom? Dad? Ellie? Where are-"

A figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere, making the teen shriek with fear. It looked like a person, but he was completely see-through and glowed with an unearthly green light. The man's clothes looked ancient, like something from the Middle Ages, and his eyes were full of sorrow.

"AAAUGH!" Art tripped over his bed, scrambling to get away from the stranger. However, he bumped into something else, and looked up to find another ghost, this one a woman, standing there and glowing with the same green light.

To the teen's horror, more people stepped out from the darkness, surrounding him and his bed in a circle. Most were human, but to his shock, some looked like those gargoyle creatures he had seen on TV. All of them appeared to be ghosts, glowing and staring at him as he shook with fear.

"He's still alive," one of the humans said, walking through his bed to get a closer look at him. Art squeaked with fear, falling back onto the ground and scrambling away from him.

"How's that possible," a female gargoyle asked. "Isn't this the boy she got her hands on?"

"I don't think so," the first man who had appeared said, walking over towards him. "She would not let him go so soon." The teen screamed, huddling by his bed.

They're not real, they're not real, they're not real, the teen thought to himself, shaking like a leaf. The ghost kneeled down next to him, reaching out and touching his shoulder. Art gasped to realize that he could actually feel the man's hand, cold and clammy.

"You have nothing to fear from us," the man said kindly, his voice carrying a vague European accent. "We mean you no harm. My name is Matisse. Who are you?"

"I… I-I-I…" Art swallowed a lump in his throat, looking at and through the ghost. "I-I-I'm Art," he finally stammered. "Art R-R-Reaves."

"What do people name their kids today," another ghost muttered. "Back in my day, names were sensible and nice-sounding."

"That's a strange name," a male gargoyle ghost said.

"You think all of our names are strange," a woman ghost countered. "Just because gargoyles don't have names."

"It's not the 1200's anymore," someone else commented.

The ghost frowned, deep in thought. "What year is it again; I lost track a couple centuries ago."

"He will know," another gargoyle ghost said, pointing at Art, who flinched under her gaze.

"W-W-Where am I," Art stammered. "Who are y-y-you all?"

Matisse sighed. "We are all victims," he explained. "Victims of our own greed and selfishness and wickedness."

"And that bitch who trapped us here," another ghost spat.

"So… this is…" The teen swallowed another lump in his throat. "... Hell?"

"Be fortunate it isn't."

"Then… where-"

"We are in the eye. The Fourth Eye of Mab," the ghost explained. "In her eye. Trapped here after she no longer had need for us."

"I don't get... What's this Fourth Eye?"

"A powerful relic of an ancient creature," Matisse replied. "One that gives the one who possess it all the power they could ever want, and more. But at a terrible price. That power overtakes us and drains us of everything we have to make her stronger."

"What year is it," a woman ghost asked Art. "Please, tell us; it's been so long since anyone new has shown up!"

"It's 1997," the teen answered. There were several gasps at that, and the ghosts started to mutter.

"Well, I've passed the five-hundred year mark," one of the men from earlier said unenthusiastically. "Here's to five-hundred more."

"I'm past the thousand year mark," a gargoyle commented.

"What… Y-Y-You've all been here for centuries," Art asked, gaping at the group of ghosts. "Just stuck here in this… eye place?"

"Yes," Matisse said sadly. "You're the first child to be brought here, but you're also the first living person as well; that must mean something outside is changing, whether it be good or bad."

"Living?"

"Clearly, you can see that we are not flesh and blood anymore," the ghost explained, holding up his see-through hand and looking at it. "Our bodies have turned back into dust long ago, but our souls remain trapped here. We cannot rest. We cannot go to Heaven or Hell. All we can do is wait."

"Wait… Wait for what?"

"For someone to set us free." He sighed. "But I've been here for nearly seven hundred years; some have been here longer. So I doubt that any of us, you included, will be leaving anytime soon."

"No…" Art suddenly remembered now; he saw Elijah standing over him, a glowing green marble in his hand and a sinister grin on his face.

"I think I'll put you in time-out for a little bit," his classmate had said in a strange voice, as if someone else was using his mouth to talk. "I may let you out eventually... but not until the 22nd century, at least." The marble had then glowed brighter and brighter and brighter, taking up his entire field of vision, and then-

"Elijah… he put me in here," the teen said. "I think he has this eye thing." He quickly stood up and looked at the blank sky above him. "Let me out! Elijah, let me out of here, please! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for hitting you and acting like a-"

An invisible force backhanded Art, sending him flying through the air. He landed hard on his shoulder, crying out in pain. Matisse and a few other ghosts walked over to him, but he waved them aside.

"It appears this friend of yours wants you to be quiet," Matisse said. "It's best not to aggravate him now that she has him under her thumb. He'll only get worse as her influence covers him more and more."

"I want to go home," the teen said, feeling like a little kid as tears welled in his eyes. "I want to see my mom and dad and Ellie again. I don't want to be stuck here forever!"

"Don't worry," another ghost said. "Just be comforted by the fact that, after a couple centuries, you'll probably forget what they look like. Then, after some more time, you'll forget their names. You'll be less sad when you forget them."

"No... No no no No NO!" Art curled up on the ground at this statement, crying into his hands as his sobs echoed a little around him, soon swallowed up by the blackness.

[][][]

Thursday April 10, 1997

"Are you okay, Elijah," Fox Xanatos asked, currently feeding Alex a spoonful of some mashed food.

Elijah nodded, silencing Art's screams as they echoed in his head. "I'm fine," he replied, smiling at her. "Thank you again for letting me stay here."

"No problem," she replied, smiling as she wiped some squash from her son's chin. The baby gurgled happily. "I overheard you tell Owen that you accidentally broke a glass last night."

"Yes, I dropped it getting some water. I'm sorry."

"No problem at all. Though you should get going; Owen's waiting downstairs to drive you to school."

"Of course," Elijah replied, sipping the last of his orange juice and standing up.

"And if that boy tries to mess with you, don't fight back," Mrs. Xanatos advised him. "There's nothing worse than stooping to their level."

"Don't worry, ma'am," the teen said with a grin, grabbing his backpack. "I've got everything under control."

So... WOW! We finally meet Mab for the first time, as well as her past victims who had found the Eye before. Clearly, Mab has plans for Elijah, and giving his growing power and moodiness, it might spell trouble for the Gargoyles. Only time will tell!

Also, does anyone recognize the Easter Egg with Art's last name?

Please favorite/follow me or this story, and feel free to leave a review if you want! Have a great day!

-aggiefrogger

I do NOT own Ferris Beuler's Day Off.