The House of Mystery loomed in the background. The ill-kept grass crunched beneath the soles of shoes as Zatanna and Constantine walked over it. The grass was overgrown, looked as if it were slick with dew, and had a dark green color to it, like they were deciding on whether to be dead and black, or trying to edge their way back to a livelier green.
Now that she was outside of the House of Mystery, Zatanna no longer felt its presence. Though its surroundings were macabre and depressing, the dark-haired woman was actually relieved. She didn't have to worry about an ill-timed story about a murderer or supernatural creature. Now that she thought that though, no doubt the House was going to be ready for her when she returned.
"Run this by me again," Constantine grunted as he followed her, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. "Why are we digging up a grave?"
"The House of Mystery told me a story about Cain and his last moments," Zatanna answered him as she made her way around uneven ground. Yeah, the unkempt grass hid just how bumpy the ground really was. What looked like a gentle hill was actually pock-marked with holes and small rocks, along with roots from a nearby tree breaking the ground and making for a tripping hazard. The tall grass hid these obstacles from sight, so one literally stumbled into them.
"And that story was?" the blond man pressed.
"Well, let's just say I rather doubt he was killed by a heart attack."
She wasn't looking at him, but she could imagine the raised eyebrow that appeared on the British guy's face. "Any reason you're playing this close to the vest? Aside from the desire to be purposefully vague?" he questioned.
"Well, if I'm right, then we've got a really big problem on our hands," the dark-haired woman responded. "If I'm wrong, then all we've done is desecrate a grave that will surely upset a couple people inside the house. I'd rather get confirmation rather than cause a whole debate on digging up a grave and if it's necessary or not."
There was a moment of silence. "Alright, I'm game. Though you will tell me what this is all about. I don't like doing physical activity when it's unnecessary."
The two reached an iron rod fence shortly after that. The fence was broken up by a gate, one that was wide open. Unlike the lawn they had trampled over, the area beyond the fence was well-maintained. The grass was the same dark green color, but it was short, broken up only by recently dug up plots of dirt. Unmarked tombstones stood at the heads of the holes these mounds of dirt came from.
Well, if that wasn't ominous.
"Doesn't look like someone has a lot of faith in us," Constantine mused as he eyed the open graves, the couple passing by them.
"Use it as motivation not to end up in one," Zatanna suggested cherrily.
"That's one way to look at it. What's with the positivity anyways? You're rather cheery for what we're about to do."
The magician shrugged her shoulders. "The last guy I worked with was dark and broody. Like, he could give Alice a run for her money on being goth. He would probably win too, not that he'd be trying. I had to be upbeat and positive to counteract that. If I let out my inner goth around him, we'd be reading Poe poetry all day."
"Sounds like a real downer. What made you work with him?"
The way Constantine asked that didn't sit well with Zatanna. Yeah, it was her fault for framing her ex that way, so the guy was only responding in the way he felt appropriate. Hell, anyone would want to know why she was around a sad sack like that. "Despite the way I've described him, he's still one of the best men I've ever met," she couldn't help but defend.
"Doesn't say a lot about the rest of us," Constantine observed. "Did we set the bar that low, or is he really that good of a guy?"
"He's just that good."
Because really, he was. It was just a shame they couldn't make things work between them.
"In my experience, no one is that good," Constantine shrugged. "We're all just scurrying around, trying to make life work for us, and it usually doesn't."
Zatanna cast a glance over her shoulder at the guy. "You don't strike me as a guy that believes in altruism."
"Show me an act of altruism and I'll show you someone with an ulterior motive."
As interesting of a conversation as they were having, they finally reached their destination. A large tombstone, damn near a monument stuck out of the ground, the name CAIN chiseled right into the stone face. The ground in front of it was nearly all grass, small splotches of dirt interrupting the green blades of grass, though one could see smaller seedlings beginning to poke right out of the dirt.
"How long ago was it that Cain died?" Zatanna couldn't help but ask. If it was a recent thing, they would have seen uninterrupted dirt, having recently been dug up. The amount of grass here indicated it had been a long while.
"Looks like it's been awhile," Constantine observed.
That was certainly helpful—not. "Well, I guess we should get to work. Any idea where there are any shovels?"
The blond man gave her a look. "You do realize there are easier ways to do this, yes?"
Zatanna frowned at him before she realized what he was getting at. Magic, duh. Why hadn't she thought about that? "Do you want to do the honors, or should I do it?"
"This is your dog-and-pony show. I'll let you get yourself cursed."
That caught her attention. "Cursed?" she repeated.
"We're in a graveyard next to one of the most supernatural entities in the world, and we're about to dig up one of those graves. You tell me if that isn't asking for a curse."
Well, when he put it that way, this didn't seem like a good idea at all. She didn't even need her Gotham friend to tell her that she was being superstitious and to get the job done already. The dark-haired woman had to resist snorting at that thought. For a guy that used superstition to his advantage, you would think he'd have some belief in the supernatural.
The magician shook her head to clear it. The grave wasn't going to dig itself up, so she might as well get it over with. Raising her hands up, she held them out towards the grave as she called upon her magical energies. "Trid evomer flesti morf eht evarg."
The ground seemed to shake the moment she spoke her spell. Cracks suddenly broke apart the ground that covered the grave, widening as the cracks grew bigger. Then large chunks of grass and earth lifted up into the air, larger chunks following after. Into the air they rose until a hole had formed, a casket lying at the bottom.
Zatanna then moved her hands, the raised dirt moving with it. She settled it all on the ground a short distance away from the grave.
"Nicely done," Constantine complimented. "I'll take care of this next bit."
Pulling a hand out from his coat pocket, he held it out over the hole. He then rotated his wrist, his hand making a gesture. In response, the lid to the casket flung itself open.
Zatanna's eyes widened as she hissed. Constantine's face hardened. The smell of decay assaulted their nostrils, nearly bringing the two to tears from the odor irritating their eyes.
Lying in the casket was Cain, and a shriveled version at that. His skin had darkened to this really unappealing brown color, nearly gray. His face, though, was frozen in a perpetual scream.
He looked just like Fred.
"Alright, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on," Constantine said, his tone brokering no disagreement. "No more hedging or stonewalling."
Zatanna slowly nodded her acceptance. "Like I said, the House showed me Cain's last moments. It indicated that Cain was attacked by Enchantress. I wasn't certain if it was just trying to relate what we're going through with what happened to Cain, so I needed proof."
"Well, we got that." The blond man's face was as hard as stone. "And there isn't a mole amongst us. Enchantress was expecting us to come here eventually and removed any obstacles she would have had. She's been here the entire time."
It was an archaic symbol, one not seen in perhaps a century. The old ways had faded and become forgotten over the course of time, all save for one who survived century upon century.
It wasn't Jason's first choice when it came to a scrying spell. It wasn't refined as the mystical arts were improved upon, developed, and enhanced. As much as was made about the old ways being better, nothing remained static unless in a vacuum. Newer generations wanting to make their own mark created their own spells, sometimes weak imitations, other times superior versions.
There was a reason for this spell, however. More modern scrying spells lacked subtlety. A mage sensitive enough could detect the spell and take appropriate action to go unnoticed. Jason had done so many times in recent years. It came down to the newer spells being bolstered with too much magick, which created a distinct tell he only needed to be aware of. It wasn't all that difficult to take notice, even for a novice.
Which brought him to this scrying spell. It required quite a bit of setup, but the results created a scrying spell that went unnoticed by the one it spied on. This was one instance where the old ways were better than the new. Only a powerful Homo magi would be able to detect it.
Completing the symbol by drawing a circle around it, the outermost edges of the symbol connecting to the circle, Jason set down his chalk on the coffee table he was using as a surface and reached out to a number of unlit candles sitting nearby on the same table. There were five in total, each one he placed at a specified point on the circle. One could mentally draw a star at the points each candle was set. Once done, he picked up a lighter, striking the flint wheel to ignite a flame. Feeling the heat on his fingers, he was quick to light up each candle.
After the last candle was lit, he blew out the flame and set the lighter down. He was nearly ready. Jason studied his handiwork thus far, making certain he hadn't made any mistakes, seeing none. He glanced around the room as insurance.
He was alone at the moment. After his last drink, Detective Chimp had lumbered out of the sitting room. No doubt he was drunk; the chimp, however, hadn't let it prevent him from declaring he was going to get to the bottom of this plot. It was heartening to hear such a sentiment, but Jason had his doubts if the chimp would be able to help in his current condition. Drunk and grieving weren't a good combination. Most likely, he was going to sleep off his inebriation before he resumed his investigation.
Which was just as well. Certain that he was alone, Jason returned his attention back to his work. Reaching a hand out, he set it at the bottom-most edge of the circle. The redhead closed his eyes as he summoned his power. His lips began to move, silently mouthing the incantation.
A light began to appear from the encircled symbol, starting where his fingertips touched it. Following the lines, the glow grew, spreading out until the entire thing was a light. It started as a soft glow, one that slowly began to brighten with every word Jason silently said. The flames burning on the candles grew larger, rising higher and higher from their wicks.
Jason opened his eyes, which prompted the glowing symbol to become nothing more than a circle of bright light. Various colors flowed, a soft rainbow of hues that appeared and vanished over and over. The sorcerer stared into it, willing it to locate his target.
That was when one of the candle flames went out, as if snuffed out. Jason glanced at it, a frown appearing on his face. That hadn't happened before. He merely pursed his lips and blew, the flame returning shortly after.
Then a different candle went out, followed by another, small trails of smoke rising up into the air. This caused the man to narrow his eyes. Already, he knew something was amiss.
However, before he could restore the flames, they returned on their own accord. Instead of the familiar orange flame though, they were green. In fact, the other candles began to burn the same green fire a moment later, each candle changing its orange for a green.
Something was not right.
Suddenly, the flames erupted, growing larger as they reached higher into the air. Jason jerked back, removing his hand from the spell-in-progress. The rainbow hues that formed the circle took on various shades of green and black, making it appear sickly.
Then came the cackle.
It started off distant, faint even, but it grew louder with each passing moment. Soon, it was all Jason could hear as it filled the room, altered and cacophonous.
"SO, YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD SEEK ME OUT, JASON BLOOD?"
The voice was booming, coy, and taunting. The room around Jason darkened until all he could see was the coffee table and the out-of-control spell in front of him.
"EEEEEHAHAHAHAHA! YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS ARE AMUSING, BUT ONLY A WASTE OF EFFORT. WHAT DID YOU HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH, HMMM? TRYING TO LOCATE ME? TRYING TO SEE WHAT'S IN MY MIND? I SHOULD WARN YOU, MY MIND IS NOT A PLEASANT PLACE TO BE."
"Enchantress," Jason spoke. There wasn't much left to be said. The hag had detected him almost immediately, even calling him out by name. That wasn't a good thing.
"I MUST ADMIT, I HAVEN'T FELT THIS SORT OF SPELL IN AGES. HOW DO YOU KNOW OF THIS SPELL, MORTAL?"
"You are familiar with it," the redhead remarked. She must have been quite old, older than he had previously though if she knew of this archaic spell. However, he was now taking action. Picking up his chalk, he began adding smaller symbols around the circle, each one between one of the burning candles.
"I AM FAMILIAR WITH MANY THINGS, MORTAL. OR SHOULD I SAY SEMI-MORTAL? I CAN SENSE YOU ARE NOT ALL TOGETHER HUMAN. WHY IS THAT?"
"Much like you, I am cursed," Jason responded, completing his work. Now he was gathering more of his power. "As you are about to find out."
There was another reason for this spell. Although its main purpose was to seek out and look into the mind of the Enchantress, it had another use. As worrisome as it was that the hag had detected the spell almost immediately, taking it over as it were, her engaging with it allowed him to take advantage of its more offensive properties.
"Begone, foul beast!" Jason bellowed as he unleashed his spell. The additional symbols he added immediately radiated light, a bright orange that stood in contrast to the green and black of the hijacked spell. "I banish thee into the dark abyss! I banish thee; I banish thee!"
A pained scream rang out, causing the very room to shudder in response. The scream continued unabated, filling Jason with the very pain the hag felt. It wasn't physical pain, just a magical one through the link between them and the spells.
"YOU VILE, WRETCHED CREATURE!" the Enchantress shrieked. "YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT WITH A THOUSAND DEATHS!"
"Begone with you!" Jason roared in response. "Return to your realm!"
The scream filled the room again, then promptly faded away. The green flames shrank down on their wicks before they returned to their natural orange color. The lights from the circle dimmed as well before vanishing entirely, revealing the scrying symbol once more. The darkness that seemed to have permeated the room retreated back to its corners, the sitting room once again in sight.
Jason stared at the table, his eyes glazed over so that he didn't really see his ruined spell.
This…this was not good.
The Enchantress had detected his scrying spell, one that was specifically designed not to draw attention to itself. Though it wasn't impossible not to be detected, it took a being of great power to sense its use. Ergo, the Enchantress was one such being that could, meaning she had at her disposal significant power.
Which shouldn't have been too surprising considering this was a creature from the Nightshade Realm. Every encounter he made with this entity, he learned more about it.
Unfortunately, he felt, it wasn't going to be so easy to defeat this hag. Not with the magicks they had gathered. He rather doubted his attempt at banishment had worked, the offensive use of the spell. Without a doubt, she severed her connection to the spell before the banishing spell could force her out of this realm. This wasn't some baser instinct fueled monster, or power-obsessed spirit. No, there was a cunning, he sensed. She mocked him whenever he encountered her through the magical plane, always seemingly a step ahead, like she expected him to reach out at that moment. Perhaps she did.
That wasn't a comforting thought to have.
There was a slight stumble in his gait, but Detective Chimp didn't pay much mind to it. He was intoxicated, but not to the point he was unable to function. He had been drinking far longer than any of these younglings knew, so he had quite a tolerance.
He may or may not have spent time in rehab at one point.
That had been Fred's doing; that blessed man. Even when he was at his most irritable and trying, Fred stayed at his side. His absence was like a stake to his heart, poisoning him with bitterness, loneliness, and grief.
He did not deserve to be taken as he had.
With a sway in his step, the detective walked the hallway. He was buzzed for certain, but his mind wasn't that far gone, even if he really wanted to be. The pain was quite consuming and alcohol numbed it. A part of him knew it would be a mistake to indulge the way he wanted to though. He was still on a case, one that could lead him into a grave next to Fred if he made one false step.
No doubt the others would have tried to investigate the crime scene after he had been taken away. They may or may not have found something to follow, but the chimp knew that if they wanted something done right, he was the chimp for it. He had been solving cases for decades by now. He knew what to look for.
Faintly, he felt that perhaps he needed to sleep off some of his liquor consumption, if only so that his mind was as sharp as it needed to be. Problem was, he knew he would be overcome with his grief again if he were able to think straight, and that was just as much a hindrance as his inebriation. Too bad there wasn't a happy median somewhere.
Still, he found himself making his way to Fred's room. He needed to do something; he needed to be useful. As he entered the corridor that led to the room, his eyes languishly glanced around. You never knew if the killer left something in their haste. Something that fell out of their pocket, or dropped from their hand. Of course, that was assuming they were in some sort of haste, or absent-minded. Neither of those described the hag they were confronted with.
Eventually, he reached the intersecting hallway where he first met Anita Soulfeeda when they first found Fred. The chimp came to a stop and looked down that hallway. The hall was much like the one he was in, with a rug that ran right down the middle of the corridor. Perhaps a rug was not the correct description as it was much too thin to be a rug, or even a carpet.
However, he couldn't help but notice how the rug decor seemed…off.
You see, the one he was walking on was perfectly positioned in the middle of the hallway, with wooden floorboards outlining it. Their design was not worthy of description as they hardly mattered.
The rug in the intersecting hallway was off-center. The end closest to the detective was moved to one side, as if someone had taken a heavy step and inadvertently pushed it to where it lay now. Further down the corridor, there was a bend in the rug due to the far end staying in the same spot. The bend was how the rug compensated for this phenomenon.
Glancing to the wooden floorboards, the ones exposed by the rug having been forcibly moved, there were some scuff marks, the result of someone scratching the bottom of their heel on the floor.
Detective Chimp soaked in these little details. If he wasn't mistaken, if it was as if someone had entered this hallway, but then turned around and placed themselves up against the wall, as if they were trying to go unnoticed by someone or something. The chimp glanced down the main hallway in the direction of Fred's room. It wasn't that far away…
If he were the murderer, Detective Chimp would want to put some distance between himself and his victim. So, the murderer killed Fred, left his room, and went for the closest hallway they could find. The one he stood in front of was the closest hallway. However, as they reached this hallway, they did an about-face and positioned themselves against the wall, as if they were trying to peek around the corner.
Why would someone do that? Well, it was most likely someone had appeared, or a sound was heard that made them panic and take cover, trying to determine who was approaching without being discovered. Could it have been one of the others?
It seemed he would need to learn the order of how everyone arrived at Fred's from upon the discovery of his body. The chimp had been too distraught to take notice. Depending on their arrival time, he would be able to determine just how far away everyone was.
At the least, he had been the first, along with Anita. They had encountered each other…right where he was currently standing…
He really needed to find Alice.
This was all bullshit. This entire goddamn thing.
Alice stormed through the hallways of this decrepit, poor-excuse-for-a-haunted house. Fred was dead, Chimpy the detective was beside himself with grief, and what did the others do? Scratch their heads like dumbasses and wondered who was responsible.
She had a pretty good idea who it was.
That Constantine guy was totally suspect. He was the last one to arrive, then made certain to examine Fred's room, no doubt looking for evidence of his murder so he could remove it. She had remained with him to ensure he did no such thing. She didn't know this guy from the man on the moon, and trusted him less than she could spit. Chimpy had told her to be on her guard around him and now she knew why.
The guy was charming, that was for certain. He already had those two other girls, Moon girl and Zoro-tara swooning over him. She knew calf eyes when she saw them. She could also smell a bullshitter and this Brit was selling it in cartfuls.
He didn't have an alibi for where he was at the time of Fred's murder. He refused to say what he was up to other than "just looking 'round the house, love." Pfft, it was all suspicious.
She just needed to find proof. Other than Fred's shriveled corpse, there wasn't much to go on. It was a clear sign of that hag, Enchantress' doing, which, alright, she could understand. Hell, there was that rotten egg smell in the room, which was definitely associated with her.
But then Constantine laid down a hard truth, that the only way for Enchantress to know they were in this Hall of Mysteries, or whatever it was called, was if one of them told her. That was a rather disturbing conclusion, but one she couldn't whole-heartedly dismiss.
Which was why she thought Constantine was involved. He had to be the mole, the one that tipped off Enchantress to their location. It explained why he wasn't there at the discovery in Fred's room. He certainly had a reputation for making deals with evil spirits, or so Chimpy claimed. Maybe he even did kill Fred and used Enchantress' calling cards to hide his involvement. Hell, maybe he was the Enchantress in disguise. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened.
Alice blew air out of her mouth. Yeah, wouldn't that solve all of their problems? Before Fred's death, she had no reason to suspect the others, not until now. Maybe that's what this whole thing was about, to sow distrust between them all.
Perhaps her looking at the obvious suspect was also a misdirection. Constantine could very well be an unknowing patsy—though she highly doubted that. And what of the others? She had her doubts about Moon girl; she was practically an emotional mess the further along they went down this rabbit hole. It could still be a convincing act, admittingly, but why pretend to hold the one thing the hag wanted most? Why not take off with it since it was already in her possession if she was indeed in league with the hag?
So scratch her off. There was that Jason Blood guy, and he gave off weird vibes—very weird vibes. There was something…something that was just…off about him. He carried himself debonair-like, but…she couldn't help but feel ill-at-ease with him.
There was the mysterious host, Anita Soulfeeder, which, yeah, that name was just too on the nose. That was just asking for a soul-feeding succubus to take her place and lure unsuspecting men to their sexually-gratifying death.
As for Zoroaster girl, Alice rather doubted her. After all, she stole her powers for a brief moment and that was more than enough time for her to get acquainted with everything she was. She was another healthy scratch off of her list.
Which just left her and Chimpy. Both of them were scratches because she knew herself and the chimp, and there was no way they could do to Fred what was done to him.
Hey, her list was getting short already. Bad—
Alice came to an abrupt stop. Her nostrils flared as a rotten odor assaulted her nose. She knew that smell. Eyes sliding to her right, she slowly began turning her body to face a rather dark, uninviting hallway. Like, there wasn't any sort of light source within it. It was suffocating.
Then she heard it. It was dry, croaky, and growing louder. A moan started, becoming more shrill and spine-tingling with every passing second, and it was coming right out of that passageway.
Alice had three guesses as to what was in there, and she only needed one.
Holding out a hand, palm up, the gothic girl called upon her powers, an orb of light appearing in that hand. "Show yourself," she demanded.
The light from her orb radiated into the darkness and ate it up, revealing the bony, ugly hag, the Enchantress. She flinched from the light, her beady eyes squinting to protect themselves. The rags she wore dangled off of her body, though they seemed to sway in some non-existent breeze.
The hag got over her momentarily daze quickly though. "I will devour your soul!" the Enchantress shrieked before she lunged at her.
Alice's eyes widened before she threw her orb of magical light at the hag. It hit her square in the face, causing her to scream with rage, jumping backwards as darkness began to swallow back up the hallway. Alice darted out of the little intersection, gaining some ground before spinning back around to face the hag.
She was just in time as the hag came raging out of the hallway, whipping her head back and forth until she spotted the gothic girl. "I'll rip out your entrails and drink your blood!" she wailed as she began storming towards her.
"How about not?" Alice suggested as she called upon her special ability, the sclera of her eyes turning black even as they focused on her target. Instantly, she was nearly overwhelmed with the amount of power she felt. Like, it was this crushing, twisted thing that assaulted her very senses. Her clothes became more ragged in response, her skin drying up as it began to shrivel and wrinkle.
And then she had it. Though her sclera remained black, the irises of her eyes turned green. She spoke some words, what sounded like pure gibberish to her, but she could feel the meaning behind them. It was as if she were speaking some long-forgotten language, or even one that wasn't of this world. As she ended her chant, she held a hand up.
Suddenly, the hag's body was sent sailing backwards down the hallway, a thunderous boom shaking the corridor they were in. There were picture frames on the wall, an odd choice for decoration in a haunted house, and they fell off of their studs, landing on the floor and causing the glass within the frames to crack.
Ohhh, she could really get used to this.
The Enchantress slammed down on the floor then, sliding across it until she came to a stop. There were a few gasping sounds until the hag slowly pushed herself up. "Im…impossible," she gasped.
"Oh, it's very possible," Alice crowed as she raised up her other hand to join the first one. Both of them were suddenly consumed with green fire, the flames rising upward and licking at the air. "Let's see what else of yours I've taken."
The hag flung her upper body up from where she laid, holding her hands out much like Alice was. Clearly, she wanted to use her green fire spell as she gibbered out some nonsense. Yet, nothing happened.
A twisted smirk appeared on Alice's face, or as she preferred to be called, Black Alice. She recited the same ancient words the Enchantress did, and unlike her, her spell actually worked.
The green flames surrounding her hands rushed out before her, becoming a geyser as they rushed down the hallway. The walls blacked from their heat as the fire raced by, closing in on Enchantress. There was a shriek, and Black Alice lost sight of the hag because of the flames.
So she let up on her spell, her hands reappearing before her eyes as they were no longer consumed by fire. Down the hallway, she could see various places where green fire had taken hold, burning at the wood that comprised the corridor.
And lying on the floor was the Enchantress. She slowly pushed herself back up, snarling at the gothic girl. "How dare you use my own spell against me?" she snarled.
"Well, it's kinda my thing," Black Alice replied flippantly. "Now, do me a favor, and die. I don't want to have to live the rest of my young life in this creepy house with you stalking my every footstep."
She paused then. If she was understanding the power she had right, there was a spell with death. Some sort of death curse, if she wasn't mistaken. That menacing smirk reappeared on the dark-haired woman's face. "Oh, I've got just the spell for you, Enchantress."
Fear actually appeared on the hag's face. She clearly knew what she meant. "When you get to Hell," the young woman continued as she held one hand towards her foe, the other hovering next to her face, "tell them Black Alice sent ya." Then she said the first words—
The Enchantress shrieked as she slapped her hands down on the floor. Suddenly, the boards that made up the walls began to move. They pulled themselves from the wall and slid on top of each other, rotating one after the other. Other wooden board flipped down from the ceiling and up from the floor as well. Much to Black Alice's disbelief, they began to form a wall between her and the Enchantress until they were fully blocked off from one another.
"What the flipping hell?!" she exclaimed, cutting off her death curse. A scowl appeared on her face. "Oh, like hell you're getting away from me!"
From the hand she had extended out, she began moving fingers until her index and middle fingers were sticking out, the others curled into her palm "Begone!" she roared, causing the makeshift wall to push backwards before shattering into hundreds of pieces and splinters. The remains of the wooden boards scattered down the hallway, leaving quite a mess. Jagged pieces of the former wall outlined the restored pathway.
Frustratingly enough, the Enchantress was nowhere in sight.
Which left Black Alice to scream shrilly like the very hag whose powers she had stolen.