Marks's part time job as the on-duty night shift clerk had just about ended. It had just been pretty quiet for most of the night, so he had just taken the time out to look at what went wrong with the prototype generator he had been developing.

Looks like the core was unstable, he mused to himself.

He was glad to be alone. At least those two nimrods were down the hall checking on patients. He couldn't stand them. One was a blithering idiot who was always down his neck looking at what he was doing, and the other was always busy nagging everyone.

Seriously, how many adults dyed their hair pink or even green nowadays? Not many, thank God.

But now back to the problem at hand.

It seemed that the components of the core wasn't strong enough to support the power it was being given. It, and everything connected to it had been affected, and now he sat there staring at a melted toaster and a cell phone that probably wouldn't be doing any phoning anymore at home waiting for him.

It just wasn't meant for that kind of power.

Back to square one.

He sat there analyzing every last detail of his prototype, when a khaki-coloured hat appeared just above the counter and went right past his field of vision.

"Excuse me."

He leaned over the desk to see a short man, dressed in typical detective wear, trench coat and cap, standing there, light blue eyes staring right at him.

But this guy had a peculiar air about him. More than peculiar - he almost seemed to be floating as he walked past the check-in desk towards the wards.

As he went past, he cocked his head back and said, "Which way to room 402?"

"Down the hall to your left. But sir, you need to check in before you can pass here!" he yelled down the corridor at the man.

"That's alright son, just call emergency and maybe a cleanup crew. I expect a lot of damage is about to occur."

Mark stood up to go chasing after him, when suddenly a surge of red sparks flowed through the hallway in his direction, then dissolved just before reaching him.

Then the rooms shook from an ensuing explosion.

Mark was knocked off his feet by the sudden impact.

But the man just kept walking straight for room 402, whose door seemed to have dislodged and landed right at his feet.

Mark leapt up and hit the emergency button. He'd actually have to work today, he mused.

Timmy was shocked at the end result of his panic.

The room had literally shattered from the force of the magic he had used to get Trixie away from them.

He remembered only slight images of what had just happened: the maniacal stare, the syringe coming down at Tootie, his panicking, and the magic working on behalf of his uselessness had done the rest.

He had grabbed Tootie and held her close just as the room was torn apart, tossing Trixie outside like a speck of sand in a hurricane.

Trixie just lay there with the syringe sticking out her arm, releasing the paralytic liquid slowly into her blood stream. She was in too much agonizing pain to move. She was in torment.

But what tortured her more was the sight of her Timmy protecting that little tramp.

Protecting her.

And she couldn't move.

She was so angry that she just started screaming hysterically, as she slipped away into madness, losing her sanity.

She couldn't stop it. She didn't want to.

Every fiber of her being hated this -thing- in front of her. Everything. Down to the very magic that drove her.

Timmy could feel it. The magic inside Trixie making her love him was turning dark. He couldn't control it anymore. It was driving her insane. He tried to focus on her mind, to reconnect with the magic, but all he got was a head full of her memories of while he was unconscious.

It was terrifying.

He saw it all through her eyes: her standing at the top of the cliff watching his parents careen over it, seeing Chester's face grow more deformed with each bone jarring strike, hearing AJ's gurgled screams as he tried to crawl away from her towards his door; all of it, in mortifying detail.

And he saw what she planned to do to Tootie next.

He crashed off the bed and staggered to his feet, but collapsed under all the pressure.

Had he really done this?

Trixie was still screaming, blood streaming down her arm, and tears down her face. She was on the edge, she was just about to lose it completely. She just wanted to kill that witch and end it.

Let me twist your heart. I possess the power to materialize your will.

She stopped screaming. Where did that come from?

Your envy, Trixie! I am your hatred! Born from magic and nourished by your lust for blood! Let me have the reign and I will lay her severed head at your feet.

Her mind went hazy black, and a vision of the beast talking to her flashed before her eyes.

He would help her. He would kill anything for her, she grinned, the need for blood screaming at her for another victim was overwhelming her.

So do we have a deal? The green eyes stared back at her, extending a ghastly hand out to her.

She took it.