It had not taken long for Bart and Nelson to crowd around Milhouse, who now lay sprawled on the floor. His eyes glazed over as a small amount of drool made ran down his chin. Bart, ever intelligent, nudged his friend with his foot. "Dead, dude. You killed him."

"No, he's not," Nelson said and proved his argument beyond a reasonable doubt by dropping his elbow straight into the center of Milhouse's stomach, who jolted sputtering for air. "See."

Dazed, confused, and sweatier than usual, Milhouse stared up at the ceiling, his pupils drifting apart as he clutched the glowing orb to his chest. Bart, a mother at heart, knelt down. "Hey buddy. You took quite a fall there."

Milhouse remained mute, opening and closing his hand, unable to respond. He mouthed a response, then clambered to his feet in a panic. Nelson watched him flee the room. "Call me old fashion but I find possession is best saved for the second act."

"I warned you about watching those kinds of movies with Sherri and Terri." Bart made a slurping noise. "Sucks the fun right out of it."

A crash further into the house echoed back toward them. Nelson went to the entrance and leaned out to get a better look. "You think we should … I dunno, restrain him?"

Bart shrugged. "I'd hope you'd do the same for me." The pair nodded at each other and gave chase after the wrecking ball disguised as a two hundred pound nerd. Their path through the wreckage, winding through the various corridors of the house until they, much to their annoyance, stood in the foyer. Watching Milhouse vanish between the heavy wooden double doors across from the main entrance, Bart brushed blackish muck from his pants. "Did he really need to take us through whatever that was in the pool?"

"Shh!' Nelson raised a finger, inching his way into what they soon determined to be a greenhouse. Bart hid behind him, as the two watch Milhouse push aside overgrowth and vine, careful to not disturb the ancient roots protruding from the tiles below their feet. He did not need to, however, as like wooden serpents, they receded to accommodate him. These motions almost imperceptible caused both Nelson and Bart to hesitate going any further.

The choice was never theirs to make. Without warning, someone or something shoved them from behind, sending both boys right into the center of the waiting roots. From the dark brown wood, erupted pulsating veins of vibrant ruby, grabbing each them by the throat. Bart kicked away one of the largest roots, but when the other tightened itself, cutting into his skin, he rasped. "Nelson … Lighter."

Nelson had dropped it during the fall. Holding back one root with his right hand and straining with the left, he nudged the tip of his index finger against its top. On every side, the green wall closed in around them, ready to feast.

"You worry too much, they are going to be fine," Jessica said, between sips of her cup of sugar, much to the horror of both Sherri and Terri. Rumors suggest some espresso was buried beneath the white granules. Jittery Joe's late night hours made it a perfect place to haunt while waiting on the boys to crack. Besides a couple of sleep-deprived tuckers and an even more sleep-deprived waitress, the restaurant stood empty. A quiet monument to how a highway could kill a small time.

Terri poked at the plate of pancakes in front of her. "Well … uh, I know, but …" She gave a quick look at Sherri, who ignored her, staring out the window at the vacant highway.

"But? Is this the part where you tell me there is an evil curse on the old manor?" Jessica asked, already well aware of where the conversation might be heading.

Sherri bobbed her head side to side, making a non-committal grumble as she tugged on her costume's gory collar. "Mhmm … erm."

"Oh, my god. You actually sent Bart into a murder house!" Jessica gasped. ''How could you!?"

"Possible." Sherri corrected, raising her finger.

"A possible murder house." Terri repeated with emphasis on the possible. She laughed, her eyes darting around. "So what if Mr. Burns was messing with forces he didn't understand? It's not like that has had drastic ramifications on our family or the world or anything."

Jessica leaned onto the table placing. "We can go save them, ya know? " She walked her fingers up Terri's forearm. "But then you both would have come tanning with me."

For a brief second, the twins' collective soul escaped them, leaving behind a corpse-like hollowness which only abated when Sherri groaned. "Fine!" She snapped a finger. "But only if you swear to tell no one!"

"Oh, I am taking pictures." Jessica batted her eyelashes. "We will get you both matching bikinis."

"Death," Terri uttered. She would not be dissuaded, though, as the gnawing anxiety in her stomach insisted their friends needed help.

Sherri paid the bill and joined the other two outside, where, as if to taunt them, a torrential rain burst from the darkened clouds, soaking all three to the bone and leaving white costume paint running across the sidewalk. Now came the problem of logistic. Jittery Joe's Diner sat on the other side of town; the walk over had been one adventure, the possibility of another in the rain no less, did much to dampen their rescue mention.

Until Sherri grabbed hold of Terri, motioning for Jessica to follow them behind the building. Shouting, she asked. "What is it? You gonna call a vampire!?"

"Err, nope! We are going to call the wizard!" They yelled back.

"The wizard!?"

Sherri and Terri broke off, whispering to themselves. Jessica watched a flurry of hand signs, straining to listen to the forbidden words being spoken. A game of a patty-cake never seemed so menacing. It ended with a white flash of light, out stepping a peculiar man.

"Who has summoned the great and powerful Magus P. Lot Whole!?" He bellowed out in a high-pitched squeal of a voice as he flung both arms out wide. His scraggly grey hair did not stand a chance beneath the rain's onslaught, and the pointed blue cap he wore could do little to prevent the deluge.

Sherri and Terri offered a short wave. "Hi."

P. Lot snapped toward them, his pink cape fluttering in the wind. "Sherri and Terri!" He thundered, a crack of lightning breaking the clouds. "This better be good!"

"It is!" They cried. "Our friends are in danger and we need to get back to the old Burns' place!"

"Urm, so why the pajamas?" Jessica asked, more concerned about his choice of fashion. Namely, the gaudy stars and crescent moons glowing in the rain.

"Style of choice," P. Lot said, fixing his black glasses. "Very well, I shall assist you! Since your mother has done me a favor before." He wagged a finger at them. "Don't make a habit of this, though."

"We won't, mister."

"First! To reach your destination, you must solve a math equation."

Silence followed as Sherri made a vague gesture. "Can it wait until after the whole…" She wiggled her fingers. "Reality alteration?"

"Hmph. So impatient," he grumbled.

Jessica, still at a loss, looked around. "So, is he going to give us a ride or …" she trailed off when more spoken forbidden words caused a violent cracking sound.

P. Lot pointed to where Jittery Joe's met the highway. "Take a look for yourself."

Confused, she walked over to the corner and did a double take. Where a parking lot once fed into an exit ramp, it now led right up to the driveway of Burns' estate. "Wha!?"

"See, now you know. A wizard did it." Terri snickered.

"About that," Sherri said, before grabbing hold of both girls. "Run!" She had no desire to work on a math problem in the raining to satisfy the whims of a wizard.

Their mad dash caused P. Lot to place both hands on his hips, clicking his tongue. "Why does everyone always do that?"

Bart and Nelson's dire predicament became even more so when they lurched toward the center of the greenhouse. A sudden motion which caused Nelson to fumble his lighter. Without an easy out, both boys found themselves suspended in the air, hovering in front of an aged oak tree. Discolored, flesh-like bark, reminiscent of a pock-marked face, spread apart to reveal two black bulbous eyes. Hooks of brass and glass dug into an inky sclera, holding these eyes open so the treeture could look upon those who intruded upon its domain.

Dangling above an infinite pit of tar, Bart opted to plea. "Easy there, big fella! I come in peace!" He gave a quick peace sign to supplement the shaky claim. His entreaties of peace gave the treeture pause but only for the moment. It squeezed. Bart felt as the bark cut deep into his yellow skin, teeth grinding against his bone, causing the wind to leave his lungs.

From below, Nelson kicked and struggled while being pulled deep into the center of the tree. "I swear! If I ever see that pasty ass —" He vanished into a mangle of root and gore, pulled into the haunted Earth below.

"Nelson!" Bart shouted. He thrashed and this frantic, desperate motions freed the cookies he had previously stuffed into his pockets. Laden with pumpkin spice and thick with sugar, these treats fell through the air, drawing the attention of his attacker. Perhaps the artificial ingredients possessed a quality unknown to man, or maybe the high content of cavity forming sugar was too much for the treeture. Because the moment those grotesque cookies hit the dirt at the base, it let forth a harrowing howl, flinging Bart beyond the bounds of space.

When Sherri, Terri, and Jessica entered, they heard the shattering of glass ahead of them. They raced to see the cause, but neither twin noticed Jessica get jerked upward by a crimson cast root. The shadows above welcomed her as their own, coating her in a shroud of blackness until not a memory of yellow skin remained.

Greeted with nothing more than a craggy, broken ravine where a greenhouse once stood, Sherri and Terri gasped in union when confronted with nothing. Not a light in the sky. Not the slightest indication of civilization. No car driving by. Not even the comforting patter of rain on glass. Nothing but nothing itself and yet, something, deep within nothing, peered back at them.

Instinct took over, each girl seized the other, and turned. The door leading to the foyer no longer remained. In its place sat cold, indifferent stone overgrown with roots of crimson. Built into its exterior, skeletal remains. Though not human skeletons. Crooked arm bones splayed open into multiple new appendages and ended with five broken fingers. Two pairs of insectoid wings, visible behind twelve brittle ribs. An angel buried deep in the dirt so that the believers could never know the truth. The liar, the deceiver, harbinger of sales and deals no mortal man could refuse.

"Never saw anything like this in biology," Terri remarked, doing well to fight off her abject terror at being confronted with what she long knew existed. She dared not turn back toward whatever watched from beyond reality. To do so would be to surrender to its mercy and a Mackleberry knew better.

Sherri maintained an impressive poker face, although the tremble of her hands could never be fully hidden. "We … We need to…" She took a quick breath, swallowing. "What did Baba S'cerri and E'erri tell us?"

"My hair will surely bring ruin for our family?"

"Not that. The other thing about …" Sherri shook her hand, desperate to recapture the words. "The blood thing. You remember."

"I don't think this is the time to talk about racism," Terri said, a burble from behind them, causing a bead of sweat to form on her forehead. A low guttural hum emanated across the vast emptiness, shaking the very foundation of what remained of Burns' estate. This jogged Terri's memory. "Uh, uh! The blood of our Macktriarch is old! It can grant us protection in times of duress!"

Sherri grabbed her sister's wrist. "Your pen knife! Let me see it!" Terri complied and Sherri sliced a thin line across her palm and repeated the act on her sister, who flinched, dizzied by traumatic memories.

"Ah!"

"Asperge me domine ysopo, et mundabor lavabis me et super nivem dealbabor!" Sherri recited from the deepest recesses of her mind.

Terri found the next line on her lips, placing her bloodied palm against her sister's. "O firyel. Melemil. Berich. Taraor." The hum grew louder, as long, wormlike appendages appeared at the edges of their feet. "Spiritus pontentes magnifici, in quibus omnino confido!"

The twins pressed together, shutting their eyes, but soon opened them when they heard cruel laughter. "Hah … hah … hah." A voice boomed around them. "Some of C'anerri's brood… How fortuitous."