a/n: So this chapter isa little longer, its a random look into the life of Melena Watson, AKA "Hocus Pocus" I tried to make this sound like it was insane, like an insane person was writing it.

It usually is a time of most unbelief that a woman is told her most horrible and despicable nightmare has come true. Take Hocus pocus for example. Her hair was s brown as winter snow, her eyes were as purple as the dew on the average family's front lawn. She wanted to look good, just like any woman.

"Oh Edgar…." She would ask the wind, for that was what she had named it. "I don't know what to do. If I am to stop anything I do they'll get me. I just know it. It seems to me you are the only person who understands me."

"Swoosh" replies Edgar.

"Faster you imbecile!"

"Yes, Miss Payne."

"Faster, Jonhothan! God, what do I pay you for!?"

John's hands squeezed so hard on the wheel that they hurt. He gritted his teeth. Under his breath, he muttered "…These days…you don't seem to pay me anything…"

John drove the stunning pink limousine past the squawking cries of Reporters and onlookers. They'd come to gawk at the now-orphan . In the backseat, he thought he saw Miss Payne wipe away an eye from beneath her glittery black veil, but he couldn't be sure.

This morning Priscilla Payne took her tea out on the balcony. She wanted to go home. Go away from Gotham City and leave behind the pain. As she sat in her golden chair, tears dripped into her cup. Martha and Brandon assured her they would handle everything so she could mourn in peace. She was so thankful she had them around during this horrendous time.

"Are we there yet!?" she yelled.

"We will be there soon, Miss Payne-"

"When I looked at the newspaper this morning, the advertisement for the fortune teller was right there! It must be a sign. It must. I have to go. I have to talk to him…one last time…" as she spoke, her head went back into the shadows. Johonthan heard a sniffle.

"I believe this is it, Priscilla…" he said quietly.

Priscilla planted her face against the glass. There was a big sign shaped like a pink cloud with the words "JONES MAGIC STORE" written in green neon.

Priscilla Payne gathered her purse and opened her door. She looked up and said to herself "…here I come, Daddy…"

There was a big, evil, demon bat that lurked in the shadows of the city. He would stalk the kind and cannibalistic and once they do one thing wrong, he would swoop down and take them to the land of white coats and civil injustice.

The evil bat also had a mean-looking friend. The bird man. He had always been tall and rather threatening, his pure white eyes piercing into your soul and your small intestine.

He was like the purest form of evil there is: the cute kind. It is hardly ever heard of seen of. Cut people are never scary, but the Old Bird Man was. He didn't fool around or show mercy like the previous Bird Man. No sir, he came down on you, and came down on you hard.

"Good luck." Edgar would tell her, as he brushed the hair out of her face. "And be careful."

Priscilla went into the store and looked around. Behind the counter I was drinking an iced tea and turning the page of the local newspaper—some murders were going around in my neighborhood. It was good to stay informed of things. I was just about to leave for my tanning appointment when I saw her.

"A customer! Hello! Welcome to the store." I tried not to be shy and offered the pretty girl a friendly smile.

She didn't even seem to hear me. She marched up and made a serious, cold glare.

"I hear you have a service that can let me talk to the dead!?" she asked. She sounded desperate.

I set down the newspaper and straightened my Tie. "Why, yes…in fact, we offer our séance package at fifteen percent off right now-"

The beautiful girl threw wads of money at me from her purse. "Any price! Just take it! TAKE IT! I need to speak to my father now, please!"

"Okay then, please follow me to the back."

She didn't introduce herself, but she didn't need to. I could tell she was Priscilla Payne, the now orphaned billionare beauty queen. Honestly, even without lookinga t her face I could have known that. Her clothes were so fabulous. It was a dead giveaway.

"Hurry up!" she snapped as we passed the shelves of incence and spellooks. I took Priscilla Payne into the séance room and put on my séance Hat. Priscilla told me her father's name and how he died—Murder. Then she threw even more money across the table, uncaring of the amounts. Twenties and hundreds piled in front of me. After I counted out the money, I lit a fire under my Crystal Ball.

Before the ceremony started, I looked over to see her perfectly manicured fingers drumming away nervously.

"Okay, let's start. Spirits of the dead, I come come…!"

But suddenly, a loud noise tore through the whole shop. Fire and heat and smoke encased the building. The explosion sent me flying back out of my chair. I hit my head on a dresser. I was knocked out, so when Batman saved me later I wasn't able to tell him what happened next.

Hocus Pocus entered the room, skirt fluttering in the wind.

"Who are you?" asked Priscilla, brushing smoke from her hair.

"Call me Hokey Pokey!" said the insane girl. "Magic's the name, and sphycotic tendencies is my game! I'm a big ball of peanut-butter flavored insanity! Say, do you know where he keeps the keychains?" She pointed at my unconscious body.

"I saw them over there."

"Saaay…were you two holding a séance!?"

"Yes…"

"OMG! I want to do it too!

The girl twirled in her shiny purple goth outfit—she looked like a stylish, sexy witch at Halloween. When she'd found a seat at the table, she grabbed something from her bah and set it down on the table.

"A crystal ball? These things are for evil kitties! Oh—that's what I call fakers, evil kitties! I hope you didn't pay this wastoid much!" She gestured at my unnconsious body.

Priscilla bit her lip. "Well…"

"LOL!" shouted Hocus. In front of her was the old, ancient-looking book. She started flicking through the pages while humming some weird, bad song. "I can't really contact the dead, but I can contact someone who can contact the dead! Does that make sense?"

"I just want to speak to…my father…"

"Sounds like a plan, blondie! By the way, you're so pretty—like a sparkly mermaid!"

Priscilla did not know what to say, but she enjoyed the compliment.

Finally, Hocus Pocus found the page she was looking for. She lifted up the book and began to chant: "Treblam'ussistic k'vellionagrussusissius d'nada platock'nundado Klarion p'relenius r'ibbeckiamo…"

A big purple light exploded in the center of the table. Priscilla shielded her eyes. The room shook. All around the girls, every window and Mirror in the building suddenly shattered.

When Priscilla moved her gentle hand to look up…an ominous, vacant head floated in the air. She couldn't believe it. The Theory of Magic…it was…real. It was a boy…a boy made of purple smoke. His eyes shined like flashlights. He smirked, and spoke.

"Ah, my sweet! You have done well…"

"OH MY GOD thank you so much honeybear!"

"…But not well enough!"

"Fart."

"Why haven't you released me from this book yet!? I've been floating around in this dark expanse for what feels like a decades! I feel so antagonized! You need to pull my body from these wretched pages!"

Tears dripped from Hocus's eyes and dribbled down her mask.

"I'm trying, my darling! The potions! The rituals! They take time! I wanted to visit you…to see…how you were doing…"

The smokey face smirked again. "I know that. You also summoned me for…something else…"

The head quick-turned around and faced Priscilla. The Payne heiress thought she might faint. The head was big, and quite frightening.

Klarion smiled down at her. "What can I help you with, sweetling?"

Priscilla took in a big gulp and said, "I want…to know what happened to my father…Steven Payne, he-"

"I KNOW WHO HE IS!" the voice boomed. "Here in these otherworldly expanses I can see all…I can feel the in-between where life ends and death begins. I felt your father pass through. I could tell what lead to his fate."

"What!?" Priscilla shot up. "Tell me, please!"

Once again, the head smirked. "The friends. The family friends. The ones watching over you your whole life…they are the blame. They want your money, dear! They always have."

Priscilla fell back. Her manicured nails clawed at her hair. She let out a wretched shriek.

"Martha and Brandon!? No! NO, THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE!"

Then, something in the dark knocked over the book…and the head disappeared.

"Swoosh"

"Edgar? Is that you?" But it wasn't Edgar, she turned around fearing the worst, the demon bat had found her. She would be stricken from her duties and be personally escorted to fluffy hell. All her worst experiences would group together to form her worst nightmare.

Upon turning around she learned that it wasn't the evil demon bat. It was the mean old Bird Man. She heaved a sigh of relief before looking up al the fluff ball of purest evil.

"Oh shit. This is worse." She thought.

The bird boy started by smashing her face with a toy, it was a gardening trowel she believed. she tried to fight back but he would just punch her again. The claws in his knuckles would seep into her face, and she forgot everything about having magic powers.

"Edgar! Help me!" she pleaded.

"Swoosh!" Edgar replied.

And then she remembered, the duck neck! She had saved it for an ocassion just like this. She reached into her pocket and took out the gnawed, sharp, and dangerous-to-run-with neck bone of a duck.

Without hesitation, she threw the bone right at the Bird Man's face, it stuck in her eye, it appeared. She leaped up just as he pulled it out. Grabbing it back, she began to stab his face until it looked sorta like Victor Zasz's.

"Bitch!" The Bird Man yelled as he leaped to his face. She made one last jab into his side, he fell over in pain. Victory.

With a heart filled with pride and skin made of tissue cells, Hocus Pocus walked off into the night. The only she knew how to do right.

"Swoosh" Edgar congratulated her.