Scratch Vol.1
Based on the characters created by Len Wein, George Perez, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby
Part.5 - Act 1
Oct 30, 1998
A gust of wind kicked up a flurry of orange and brown leaves out by the entrance of the Nevermore Hotel, with some slipping inside when a woman pushed the front door open. Tailing her closely was a young girl, who clung to the woman's wolf coat, looking as if she'd been swept up in a whirlwind.
"Ms Scratch," the concierge greeted them, his voice warm and welcoming. He reached out and grabbed the long brass handle, holding the heavy glass and chrome door open for the pair, while they scampered inside. "Miss Scratch. Lovely to see you this evening." He smiled, tipping his hat at the woman and child with his free hand while he closed the door. The child followed her adult's lead, brushing off the leaves stuck to their matching coats and hair.
"Likewise, Al," Ms Scratch said breathlessly, smiling back at the old man politely, before taking her child in hand.
"Fine day?" Al asked, sounding genuinely interested. He adjusted his startlingly white gloves, which almost glowed brightly against his navy uniform.
"It was. Until the wind picked up," the woman replied wearily, walking through the reception towards the elevators, child in tow. Their footsteps rang off the parquet hardwood floor of the spacious foyer. The girl looked up at him, beaming.
"We saw a shark!" She squeaked, excitedly.
"Isn't that something," Al chuckled as he meandered over to the reception desk, watching the pair walk through the lobby.
"Have a nice one, Al," the girl's mother called out before they rounded the corner leading towards the elevator.
"You too, madam," the concierge tipped his hat once more. After waiting a moment for the lift to open, the woman pulled the cast iron door open and ushered the child inside. She let the girl press the button for the third floor, which lit up at her touch, and they ascended.
Once inside their hotel room, the young girl removed her coat, tossed it onto a nearby chair, and jumped onto one of the two single beds, bouncing up and down on the mattress. The mattress springs groaned and squeaked under the pressure while the paisley-patterned comforter became crinkled. Her necklace slipped out from under her shirt and flung around her neck wildly, the green stone even hitting her in the face occasionally.
"Where's Ebs?" She asked, stopping to look around the room. It was a spacious room, and even though the decor was outdated, it still gave off an air of class and style fitting for such a fancy hotel. She smiled. Of all the hotels she and her mother had visited in the past few years, this one was among her favourites.
"Not sure," her mother admitted, frowning as she locked the door with the key before sliding the chain lock in place and muttering a few words under her breath, placing a palm on the door. "She should be here by now." She threw the brass room key onto the small table beside her and sat down, exhausted.
"Could we go trick or treating tomorrow?" The girl sat down, pulling her shirt over her knees, stretching the purple octopus printed on the front, contorting its image. Her mother rubbed her temple and sighed.
"We'll see, hun," she smiled weakly and checked her watch. "Come on, Nicky. It's getting late. Go wash up." She gestured towards the bathroom across from her. Nicky kicked her shoes off before hopping off the bed and skipping into the bathroom, closing the door behind her slightly.
A knock on the door startled Agatha, who had just shut her eyes for a moment. She turned in her chair and eyed the door suspiciously.
"Ms Scratch?" Al's voice called from behind the door. "Ms Scratch, there was a package left for you at reception." Agatha frowned. That's odd… she thought as she cautiously stood up and faced the door. Checking the chain was in place, she picked up the key and unlocked the door, cracking it open just slightly. Peering outside, she saw the older man's ashen face, obscured by the shadow cast by the rim of his hat. She then noticed the two figures standing close behind him, dressed in black. Without hesitation, she slammed the door shut. "Shit," she cursed.
She barely moved away in time when the door blew off its hinges in a cloud of black smoke. Agatha swiftly retreated backwards towards the bathroom, reaching for the door to shut it. As she did so, she heard a small whimper from within. Stay put, Nicole, she screamed internally. The smoke cleared, revealing Al, held upright by a pair of hands gripped tightly around his shoulders, barely conscious. The hands holding him up quickly tossed the old man aside like a rag doll, his body landing in the hallway with a solid thump.
"Evening, 'Mrs Scratch,'" a low voice hissed. Stepping into the doorway was a tall, gaunt man wearing long, black robes. His sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones gave his face an almost skeletal appearance, while his skin betrayed a hint of jaundice. Entering beside him was a woman whose head hardly reached her companion's shoulders. She raised the chiffon veil she had been wearing up off her face to reveal her tan complexion and green eyes. There was something in-human about their appearances, with the woman seeming more animalistic than her emaciated partner.
"Found your friend," the woman smirked sadistically, tossing a large, black object into the room. It bounced off the bed and landed heavily near Agatha's feet, where it stirred, hardly opening its eyes. "So much for your infamous familiar. Not so scary when she's just a little black cat," she laughed.
"Sorry, mistress," Ebony mewed, struggling to get the words out as her eyes slowly shut again. Agatha's heart sank. Meanwhile, the man whispered something under his breath. The doorframe shuddered and a large crack appeared from the top of the frame, reaching across the ceiling. Agatha gritted her teeth, realising her visitor had just disabled the ward she had cast on the room's entrance. He smiled at her fiendishly, his eyes twinkling with pleasure, and stepped into the room.
"You need to come up with new tricks, Agatha," the tall intruder boasted. "Such paltry wards are truly a slight on our intelligence and skill."
"Paltry, Thornn?" Agatha sneered. "Pfft! Worked on the others."
"Well, I suppose some of my brothers and sisters aren't as attuned to the Salemite arts as Gazelle and I," he replied laconically, glancing at his companion who now sat where Agatha had been a moment ago.
"Hmph!" Agatha scoffed. "You counter one spell…"
"We dispatched your familiar," Gazelle snapped defensively. She leaned forward on the chair aggressively, its legs bowing under the pressure. "You best start treating the Seven with respect, if you value your and your child's lives."
"Enough," Thornn sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. "The offer remains the same, Harkness. You cooperate and come with us, no one gets hurt. And everything goes back to the way it was, etcetera …"
"Bit late for that," Agatha glanced at her familiar who lay at her feet. "I'll tell you what I told Brutacus," she looked up and glowered at the pair. "We're not going back. It's been two years. Get the memo." She adjusted her stance, preparing herself for an attack. "I'll kill you all if I have to. Though, I suppose the ol' Brute died before he could relay the message. My mistake."
"You miserable bitch!" Gazelle barked loudly, jumping out of her chair. Her seat flung out from underneath her and tipped over, clanging noisily when it connected with the ground. "You'll pay…" she snarled, baring her teeth like an animal.
"Enough, sister," Thornn interjected, raising a hand at Gazelle in a warning while he glared at Agatha. "Frankly, I don't care if you live or die, Harkness. I never have," he said, his voice low and sinister. "Besides, bringing you back to New Salem only to watch you inevitably get punished by Master wouldn't be as satisfying for me as simply killing you myself. If you were to die today, I'd happily bear the consequences. However, Master explicitly told us to return the girl to New Salem. No exceptions. That is an order I will not disobey."
"Shame that's not gonna happen," Agatha braced herself, raising her hands, summoning power to her fingertips. "He's gonna be real disappointed." Thornn chuckled angrily.
"You think I'm scared of you, Harkness?" He snarled and shook his head. "The Master has told me everything about you and has shown me the secrets of the Salemite arts. He has shown me things you couldn't even dream of. And when this is over… oh such delights he has promised."
"Good luck with that," Agatha rolled her eyes. "Because he has always been renowned for keeping his word." Gazelle slammed her fist onto the table, splitting the wooden tabletop in two.
"YOU WILL HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" She howled in anger. "AND -" Before she even straightened up, a blast of energy hit her square in the chest, knocking her backwards. The force of the blast was enough to send her crashing through the wall behind her, the sorceress landing in a pile of plaster and dust in the hallway outside.
Agatha lowered her hand, which glowed with purple energy, to admire her handy work. She had only a second to enjoy the sound of Gazelle groaning when she quickly noticed a fireball hurtling towards her. With a split second to react, she stepped out of the spell's path and deflected it, sending it back at Thornn. In one deft movement, the tall warlock dodged his deflected spell, letting the fireball slam into the room across the hallway, blasting the door off its hinges.
Thornn wasted no time staying on the defensive, raising a clawed hand and igniting another fireball from his fingertips, which had turned a scolding red. Just as he cast the spell, Agatha stepped over Ebony, who was still unconscious, quickly raising her arms and crossing them at the wrist. Under her breath, she recited an incantation.
"Obtestor Scutum Telarum!" A web of iridescent purple thread spun out from her arms, rapidly twisting into an intricate pattern. In a second it formed a shield that stretched from wall to wall, absorbing Thornn's blast. Watching his attack being thwarted once again, Thornn snorted in frustration, his skin yellowing as his anger mounted. Continuing his assault, he increased the intensity and frequency of his attacks.
Even from behind the shield, Agatha could still feel the heat from Thornn's fireballs. Beads of sweat soon began to drip down her face. Little tongues of wayward flame caught onto the curtains and bed sheets as the shield dissipated fireball after fireball, catching fire. Through the fire, smoke, and the shimmering web that was her shield, Agatha noticed Gazelle gingerly getting up and climbing back into the room through the hole in the wall. Two-on-one ain't fair, Agatha sulked. If only Ebony were alright…. She glanced at her familiar, willing the cat to somehow quickly recover. The skin on her hands and arms started to sear from the heat, turning red and raw. Wincing slightly, she fought through the pain, focusing on keeping the shield up.
Suddenly, Agatha felt the room shake. Her eyes widened as she noticed the threads that made up her shield begin to wobble, like audio waves or freshly plucked strings on a harp. Across the room, Gazelle had her hands raised, her palms facing upward while she soundlessly mouthed a chant. The ground trembled again, this time making the shield waver once more. She's going to disable it! Agatha grunted as she focused more energy on the shield, keeping it impermeable for the time being. I can't stay on the defensive, she realised, frustratedly. Time to go big or go home. She shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Summoning strength from a deep, dark place within her, she let the magical energy swell in her chest. Then she refocused, channelling the power through her arms and towards her fingertips.
She uncrossed her arms and pointed her fingers at her opponents. The shield disintegrated as a wave of energy surged through the room, followed by two bolts of violet lightning from Agatha's hands. One bolt connected with Thornn's chest just as he was about to fling another fireball, sending him careening into the corner of the room, losing control of his attack, which was now sent in his sister's direction. The heat from the bolt seared through his robes, burning his flesh. He slammed into the mirror hanging on the wall behind him. Shards of glass rained down upon him as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
The second bolt hit Gazelle in her right shoulder, tearing her arm out of its socket. The detached limb flew out into the hallway through the hole Gazelle had climbed through just moments before. She howled in pain, the skin and blood from her wound sizzling noisily from the bolt's heat. At the same time, Thornn's rogue fireball had glanced Gazelle's robes, lighting them on fire. She twisted and contorted in terror as the flames climbed up her legs, the dyes from her robes creating ethereal green and purple flames. Out of sheer panic, she attempted to shape-shift, her body morphing and taking on deer-like features. A small pair of antlers sprouted from her forehead, lifting her now alight veil above her head. Her feet became more like hoofs, splitting the black boots she had been wearing open. And soft-looking brown fur began to grow along her arms and neck, which were now exposed as the flames ate away at her clothes. The fire quickly latched onto her fur, filling the room with a sulphurous odour.
Gazelle screeched and fell to her knees, continuing her painful dance as she tried to swat the flames out, while Agatha watched on. Initially, she was happy to watch her opponent suffer, especially after what they had done to Ebony. However, Agatha soon grew sick of the screams. She raised a hand and turned it clockwise. With a sickening crack, she telekinetically broke Gazelle's neck, finally ending the torment. The witch dropped to the floor silently, the flames taking over and engulfing the rest of her.
Taking a beat to catch her breath, Agatha coughed, smoke catching in her throat. To the left of her, the heavy curtains burned brightly with an imposing heat that filled the room and cracked the windows. With both assailants incapacitated, she wasted no more time. Agatha turned to the wall, the only clear space in the room and conjured a portal. We don't have to go far, she told herself, just far enough, and she focused on her destination. Glowing purple lines grew on the wall, forming an arch. Inside, the wall melted away, revealing a dark, wooded area on the other side. A strong gust of wind from the portal hit Agatha in the face, cold air a relief against her burning skin. With their means of escape sorted, Agatha opened the bathroom door and saw Nicky cowering behind the shower curtain.
"Come on, hun," Agatha rasped, holding out her hand. Her daughter's small hand now placed in hers, she began to lead the girl to the portal.
"Ebony!" Nicky cried loudly, pointing at the cat, still lying motionless on the floor. Agatha let go of Nicole's hand and knelt to pick up her familiar.
"We have to go. Through the portal, come," Agatha instructed, holding Ebony close to her chest. Feeling the cat's heartbeat close to hers invoked a sense of guilt. Poor creature, she brooded sullenly, the guilt shifting to anger towards the Seven and their "Master."
A loud cracking noise from behind her startled her, and she turned around in the direction of the sound, grasping Ebony tightly. On the other side of the room, where the fire had spread to the walls and ceiling, Thornn lifted himself off the floor using a nightstand, knocking over a porcelain lamp. His robes had caught fire also, green flames licking up his back and burning his hair to their roots. Large swaths of his body were charred. However, that wasn't the only alarming thing about his appearance. His skin had now become a bright and sickly yellow and little red horns protruded from the crown of his head, cheekbones, and hands. With blood-red eyes, he scowled at Agatha.
Thornn let go of the nightstand, attempting to stand on his own. Hunched over and seething in pain, he raised his glowing red hands to his chest. Dread washed over Agatha when she realised what the warlock was about to do. She glanced over at Nicky, who had recoiled and braced herself against the wall in terror.
"Nicky!" Agatha reached out for her daughter with one arm. But it was too late. The last thing she remembered was the flash of white-hot light and feeling her body flying through the portal, into the dark.
Oct 31, 1998
Agatha woke with a start, her cry reverberating into the dark, open-air around her. The echo quickly faded and was replaced by the quiet rustling of tree branches disturbed by a gentle breeze. The smell of brine hit her nose as the draught blew stronger. Reflexively, Agatha licked her lips, sea salt tingling sharply on her tongue. Underneath her was frigid limestone, porous and rough against the skin on her palms and cheek. The cold stone sapped the heat from her body, and she shivered as she lay in the dark.
Slowly, she lifted herself from the ground. A twinge of pain made her raise a hand to her head, where she felt something dry and crusty. She scratched at it with her fingernails and immediately could smell iron. Probing further, her fingers grazed a large gash where her hair parted. She winced, the open wound stinging.
Once her eyes had adjusted to the nightscape, she checked her surroundings. A slim waxing crescent moon hung high in the sky, barely visible even on such a cloudless night. The clearing was encircled by tall pitch pines and wax myrtle, save for a space that opened up at a cliff face that looked out over the Chesapeake Bay. Beside her was a limestone slab, an altar which was the centrepiece of an old witches' circle. As far as she could tell, she was alone.
"NICKY!" She screamed out into the dark, her voice cracking as panic began to set in.
"Mistress," a husky voice croaked from the altar. Stepping closer to the large stone slab, Agatha noticed Ebony curled up underneath it, lost in its shadow, breathing heavily.
"Ebony!" Agatha knelt at the altar and delicately placed a hand on the cat's head.
"What happened?" Ebony winced at Agatha's touch and let out a laboured sigh.
"Thornn…" The name caught in Agatha's throat. Rage festered in her chest as she recollected their encounter. How cold yet confident he was up until the end when he became desperate and cruel. She clenched her fist, preventing her hand from trembling. "He self-immolated."
"That's insane," The cat gingerly sat upright. "He could have killed himself as well as us. And that wouldn't be any good for his siblings or their master."
"He was in rough shape when he did it, too," Agatha stood up from the altar. "I'd be surprised if there was much of him left now. If there is anything left."
"Never assume," Ebony warned her. "He was always skilled at pyrokinesis." She got up on all fours and limped out from the altar's shadow. "They'd gotten crafty, those two," She murmured. "Clearly, they had learned a thing or two from him… I'm not sure how, but they got the jump on me." She turned to face Agatha and bowed her head low. "I am so sorry, mistress. I failed you and…"
"Nicole," Agatha cut her off. "We have to go back." She raised her hand and began to draw a portal back to the hotel room.
"Agatha, be careful," Ebony cautioned, watching the glowing portal manifest, the newly conjured doorway opening to a dark void. That's not good. Alarm bells rang in Agatha's mind as she carefully stuck her head through the threshold and raised a now glowing hand to light the space. The room had been destroyed, every inch of the four walls covered in black soot, and the windows had been blown out, framing the dark, starless sky outside. Not one piece of furniture remained, and in the middle of the room, there was a deep, gaping hole. Even when she lowered her hand, the light couldn't breach the bottom. There was no trace of Nicole or the siblings.
"No, no, no…" Agatha fretted, stepping backwards and closing the portal. With trembling hands, she redrew the portal. This time, it opened to the street. Without waiting for Ebony, Agatha stepped through. She stopped on the sidewalk across the road from the Nevermore, struck by the sight before her.
Ahead of her, the fire brigade was still putting out embers. Two firetrucks had blocked the street, their lights flashing red and blue. The area was also barricaded with yellow and black tape tied to light poles on either side of the street, although onlookers were sparse at this late hour.
The hundred-year-old hotel appeared to have just about been gutted by fire. Its red brick facade was smeared in soot and foam, obscuring the intricate brickwork and sconces, while many of its arched windows were smashed in.
"Nicky…" Agatha whispered between jagged breaths, abject terror enveloping her as her mind flooded with many horrific thoughts of what may have become of her daughter.
Part.5 - Act 2
2008
BANG!
The concrete wall vibrated violently, cracking under the pressure as the warlock's body connected with it. He could feel the vibrations as the wall shook, rattling every bone in his body. The man ricocheted off the wall, landing on the dusty factory floor heavily, pain shooting up his legs and back when he met the ground. Blood streamed down his face profusely, splattering beneath him in dark red splotches. Panting desperately, he tried to get up, but a hand suddenly wrapped around his neck, thrusting him back and pinning him to the wall, right where he had been seconds before. Flakes of concrete fell on him, peppering his short-cropped, grey hair. The dust scratched his eyes while also clinging to his light-violet skin.
"Gack!" The man spluttered, saliva mixed with blood oozing out both sides of his mouth.
"Had enough?" Her voice pierced his ears, cold and striking. He clawed at the soft skin attached to the wrist that had him pinned to the wall with little effect. His vision was obscured by a red tinge from the blood in his eyes. "Just tell me where she is," she spoke in his ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive skin around it. Fear and anger churned in his stomach. Pushing the feelings aside, he tried to focus, tensing every muscle. In a moment he could feel his skin start to change. It shimmered, turning a deeper shade of lilac, and he began to vibrate, attempting to become intangible. Yes! He thought. Just a bit more and I can slip out from under her. But it wasn't to last. It had been a taxing fight, leaving him with very little energy to spare. Fatigue hit him like a wave, loosening every muscle, and his skin returned to its normal shade. He let out a defeated whimper.
"Oh, Vakume, you're not actually trying to phase, are you?" The woman's condescending tone was more than he could take and he groaned. The hand around his neck loosened and she released him. Immediately, he slumped to the floor. Vakume blinked, trying to get the blood out of his eyes, one eye almost going completely blind. When his vision became a little clearer, he looked up to see the witch he'd been battling standing above him. Such contempt he had felt for her over the years. Now, all he could feel was fear. Not simply of dying but of how she would kill him. If seeing the bodies of his siblings taught him anything, his last moments were almost certainly going to be in agony. He, like the rest of his coven, disrespected her, underestimating just how desperate and ruthless Agatha Harkness could be. And she punished them for it immensely.
Agatha leaned over him, dressed all in black, her hair a mangle of wild curls hanging over her face. What frightened him the most was her eyes; her eyes which were cold and dark. From what he could see, there wasn't a hint of compassion or humanity in them. "You forgot I took that away from you now, didn't you?" She chuckled sweetly and knelt, her eyes locking with his. His skin crawled. I'm fucked, he thought.
"The Seven," he breathed, "The Seven will end you." Agatha let out a cruel, deep-chested laugh that echoed through the warehouse.
"Who?" She feigned confusion. "Oh! Salem's Seven. You mean what's left of them? Who is left, by the way? Hmm." Agatha raised a hand to count with her fingers. "There's you, and well you're like this." She gestured at him. "And then Vertigo, who is dead. So is Brutucus, Gazelle, and Thornn. That leaves two more to go." Vakume coughed, hacking up more blood. She is right, he thought. Despite everything the Seven had been through, all the training and preparation, this witch had picked them off one by one. They had failed to kill her and now time had just about run out.
His mind wandered back to his childhood, back to the day he had been abandoned in the Salem woodland by his father shortly after he'd watched his mother die at the old man's hand. Finding his siblings soon after that, each abandoned like he had been. How the townsfolk feared them, especially as their powers manifested and grew.
The rejected children became a coven; a family. And soon they found him. Or, perhaps more accurately, he found them. Their Master, who saw their potential and had taught them so much. He gave them their name, Salem's Seven, and they built their coven around him, establishing a home in New Salem. And in return for pledging themselves to him, he promised them much more.
Despite how formidable he and his siblings had become under the Master's tutelage, they were still no match for the witch Harkness. And thanks to her, they would never reap the rewards of their service; for their sacrifice to him. Everything they'd worked for came undone. Hydron, Reptilla… the faces of his remaining kin sprung into his mind. Perhaps there is hope, he pondered. Maybe one of them could prevail over her, avenging the Seven and restoring their Master, who she had left in desolation, to his former glory.
His next breath was laboured and brought with it searing pain across his chest. No, he realised solemnly. The Harkness woman has already killed the best of us. Those two don't stand a chance. Vakume's eyes stung with tears.
"So, are you gonna spill or what?" Agatha smirked.
"You won't find her," Vakume gasped. Agatha froze, no longer smirking. Her reaction helped him smile through the pain. Might as well lay one last blow, he figured. "The child is where she belongs," he lied, although he wished it was true. "As will you be, too. Soon enough." The woman stared daggers at him while her hands shook with rage. Vakume wanted to laugh. To rub it in. To find some solace despite this defeat. But it was already over. He barely had enough time to register the witch standing back, her aggressive hand gestures, or the light that shone from them before everything went black.
"Quite the mess you've made of this one," Ebony remarked, watching Agatha wipe blood off her face with the back of her sleeve. The cat slinked across the warehouse floor and leapt onto what remained of a wooden crate, getting a better look at the scene. It was remarkable the place was still standing, given the amount of damage the building had sustained during the fight. The walls were now a patchwork of cracks and scorch marks, and large chunks of concrete were strewn across the floor among countless shards of glass. The warehouse was predominately a grey and dull space, save for where Agatha stood, which was splattered a shocking shade of red spanning several yards wide.
"He said they have her," Agatha panted, her rage appearing to subside, only slightly.
"Are you sure?" The cat asked flatly, trying her best to mask her scepticism. "The last one supposedly said the same."
"He said they have her," Agatha repeated through gritted teeth. Still wired from the adrenaline, the witch avoided eye contact with the feline and continued to wipe the blood off her face and neck.
"Was that right before you blew him up?" Ebony nodded at the mass of sinew and blood that was, as of a few moments ago, formerly a member of Salem's Seven. How barbaric, she thought, flaring her nostrils at the wretched smell of death. When Agatha finally got hold of Vakume, the familiar almost felt sorry for him. While he was a skilled warlock, and a wicked one at that, he was no match for Agatha's wiles and prowess in arcane witchcraft. Adding to that was her mistress' lack of restraint regarding members of the Seven.
"I thought it was a fitting send-off," Agatha smirked, tying her hair into a ponytail. Her dark curls were slick with blood, giving them a scarlet sheen, especially in the sunlight. Ebony's dour expression caught her eye and she sighed. "You know they deserve it," she threw her hands up tediously. "Each one of them."
"I understand," Ebony growled. "It's just…"
"What?" Agatha snapped, her voice bouncing off the walls of the abandoned warehouse. She glowered at the cat, who bared her teeth back at her in frustration. The two eyed each other unblinkingly for a moment.
"Don't you think that if they had her, we would have found her by now?" The black cat stood up, defiantly. "We've been picking them off one by one, following them for years now, and still, no sign of her."
"So you're saying she's gone," the witch rasped, her face twisted with anger and grief.
"No…" Ebony lowered her voice, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm saying we're missing something."
"What?! What are we missing?" Agatha's mind drifted back to that night eight years ago. The sorry faces of the firefighters who tried, unsuccessfully, to keep her from going into the smouldering remains of the hotel. The senior firefighter of the squad who had directed her to Johns Hopkins Hospital reassured her that she would find her daughter there. He was wrong of course and Agatha had been next to inconsolable when the nurses told her no such girl had been triaged, nor were any children in the morgue at the time. She tried another hospital, then another. She returned to the hotel, searching for any clues. All she had managed to find was what remained of her camera and scraps from their luggage.
"We searched just about all of Maryland," she continued, her hands glowing brightly as her temper mounted. "We tried the police. Even filed that useless missing person's report! What's more, even the 'great' Calderu couldn't find her with all her great powers of divination and mediumship. We've looked everywhere else, Ebony. She's not in Baltimore. She is not on the other side. Someone took her. It has to be them!" Agatha balled up her fists and shouted in frustration, letting out a burst of energy. The warehouse shook. "He wanted her, so He sent them, these freaks," she pointed to the bloody mess beside her, "to find her. If anyone is hiding her, it has to be them!" Ebony waited a beat, her tail flicking side to side in contemplation.
"Perhaps it's time we visit New Salem," Ebony suggested. Agatha's face grew pale. New Salem. It had been a long time. She placed a hand over her stomach, which began to churn violently. New Salem was one of the first places they had looked outside of Maryland. A stronghold for Salem's Seven, it was an extremely dangerous place back then, well-guarded by various complex hexes and wards crafted by the coven. After months of scouting, it soon became clear that Nicole wasn't there. That had initially been a relief for Agatha. But as time passed and she realised they were no closer to finding her, part of her wished she had been there.
With only two members of the Seven remaining, now was as good a time as ever to go back. Much of the more complex and powerful magic would have expired with their spell casters, she rationalised. And if He was still alive, surely He was on his last legs by now. Agatha closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Despite this rationale, the idea of returning to New Salem still filled Agatha with dread.
"Perhaps you're right," Agatha gulped.
"Let's go home first," the cat leapt from the crate onto the floor. "I'd like a decent night's sleep before we return to that rat's nest." Agatha watched on as her familiar scampered out of the warehouse. She took another long, steadying breath, breathing out slowly. Beneath her ribs, she could feel her heart slow to a regular pace.
"New Salem…" she muttered, turning her attention to what remained of Vakume. Let it be the end of all of this.
Oct 2018
Agatha watched as the charm spun around the map. Round and round it went, never slowing, its trajectory never changing. She knew it'd be pointless to try scrying again, but by this point, it had become a daily habit, a sad little ritual she'd perform whenever her mind would wander away from study. With her other hand planted under her cheek, she watched it spin, sighing despondently.
Losing heart for the umpteenth time, she gave up, gathering up the charm by its chain and placing it down on the map. The sound of small footsteps behind her signalled that Ebony had entered the room, and she quickly covered up the board using the sleeve of the long flowing dress she was wearing. Agatha was aware that the familiar judged her for continuing to try scrying. Ebony, in all her ageless wisdom, felt attempting the same thing over and over again was a foolish waste of time. She had said as such, just not in those words.
"Working on anything inspiring?" The cat mewed laconically as she brushed past Agatha's legs.
"Not right now," Agatha mumbled. She's bored, she thought, watching Ebony from the corner of her eye.
"Is there anything I could do for you, mistress?" Agatha grimaced at Ebony's beleaguered and sarcastic tone. "Perhaps we could stir up trouble somewhere…" she purred, "outside Salem. Just for a little bit?" The witch sighed. It had been some time since they had left the old house. No doubt, the familiar was developing cabin fever. Moreover, the pair were starting to get on each other's nerves ever so slightly, what with Agatha locked in her study, pouring over some of her newly acquired literature for hours on end while Ebony was left to her own devices. She knows she's free to go wherever she pleases, Agatha thought grumpily.
She had just opened her mouth to tell Ebony to go away when, suddenly, a burst of magic grabbed her attention. It had been like a whisper, followed by a gust of wind that rustled some of the loose papers scattered around her study. The ground vibrated ever so softly under her feet, so fleetingly that Agatha almost thought she had imagined it. She sat up in her chair, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
"Did you feel that?" Agatha gasped, staring at Ebony, wide-eyed in surprise. She moved her arm and looked down at the map and saw the charm had moved, the tapered end now pointing at Maryland. Maryland? She wondered. Baltimore.
"It was brief," her familiar nodded. "But I felt it."
"It came from Baltimore," Agatha declared.
"How could you know that?" Ebony looked at her mistress, puzzled. Agatha raised her arm, revealing the scrying board beneath it. Ebony blinked at Agatha disappointedly.
"Hey!" She snapped defensively. "I know what you're going to say…"
"That the charm isn't even pointing at Baltimore?" The cat replied snarkily, jumping onto the stack of books beside the desk to get a better look.
"Well, no, that wasn't…" Agatha checked the map, the stone still pointing towards Maryland, although Ebony was right, it wasn't pointing at Baltimore specifically. "Whatever that was, it moved the charm."
"I think you need to get out of the house," Ebony rolled her eyes and jumped off the stack. "Get your head out of these books. That one specifically." She nodded at the ominous-looking, black leather-bound tome perched on the table beside the map. "You'll go mad." Agatha narrowed her eyes at the cat, irked by her comment.
"You know what?" she pursed her lips, wringing her hands under the table. "How about you go and find out what that was? Hmm?"
"Seriously?" the cat sighed.
"Uh huh," Agatha nodded, her voice dripping with faux enthusiasm.
"Go where exactly?" Ebony growled. Agatha pointed at the map. "What do you expect me to find there?" She huffed.
"I dunno," Agatha sniffed, turning her back on the cat. "Figure it out. If it's anything interesting, let me know. In the meantime, I'll just stay here and 'go mad.'" Ebony skulked out of the room. Looking down at the map, Agatha's mind began to race.
Could it really have come from Baltimore? The threat of the Seven was long gone. She and Ebony made surprisingly light work of the remaining two when they returned to New Salem. What's more, any trace of their Master was destroyed once she razed the small village to the ground. That should have given her a reprieve. Instead, it just added to her pain. He was gone, but so was Nicole. The magic in Maryland could be anything, she told herself, taking a deep breath.
She picked up the scrying charm and inspected it. The pure, black obsidian stone was flawless, its smooth surface shining brilliantly against the candlelight. Perhaps I should go… she pondered, biting her lip. No, it's not worth the disappointment. The voice in her head was callous this time. Placing the charm down, she reached for the large tome in front of her; a dark and ancient book she had been promised would hold the key to finding her daughter but thus far had not yielded any results.
This son of a bitch, Agatha cursed. The blast from her assailant had sent dust and smoke billowing all around her, obstructing her view.
A few days passed when it happened again, the burst of energy. Only this time, it was much, much stronger. Agatha hadn't even needed to say a word to Ebony this time. The feeling was undeniable — something was pulling her eastward.
"That was a summoning," Ebony warned Agatha when the cat returned from Baltimore later that morning.
"Damn right, it was," was all Agatha could get out, the witch practically bubbling over with excitement.
"Please, mistress! Perhaps it's best you let me investigate this first," Ebony urged desperately. Agatha gave her familiar a dirty look, having grown mistrustful of her lately. Since visiting Maryland, Ebony had become standoffish, giving intentionally vague answers whenever Agatha inquired about her trip. The only thing she would share was that she may have found the source of the magic, nothing more. Adding to Agatha's suspicions, the cat would soon disappear, returning to Baltimore without notice, leaving her alone and wondering. So when she felt the summoning, Agatha made clear her intentions to go to Baltimore.
Despite Ebony's strong insistence that she stay in Salem, she followed the feline to Maryland, keeping her distance while she watched her stalk the same streets repeatedly. After a couple of days, Agatha herself became bored, frustrated by Ebony's behaviour. Moreover, there had been no sign of the spell caster who had summoned her, leaving her disappointed and annoyed.
That all changed when she spotted the cat approaching a strange young woman on a sidewalk in Fells Point. She couldn't help but smile deviously when they revealed themselves to be a witch, attacking Ebony all of a sudden. Finally, she thought, stepping in to defend Ebony, who uncharacteristically kept her distance once she evaded the first blow.
The fight continued for a few blocks, the pair trading blasts and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. All the while, Agatha couldn't help but feel a strange sense of deja vu as she blocked some of her mystery witch's attacks. There was something familiar about them, almost like they were using some kind of magic reminiscent of another era. Regardless, Agatha was intrigued by the stranger. Where she could, she tried to get a better look at her opponent. However, they managed to keep their hood up the entire time, obscuring their face with shadow. Eventually, they ended up at the Pratt Power Plant, where Agatha now stood, waiting for the dust to settle. With the sounds of the crowd now fading into the distance, the court soon became deathly quiet, and her opponent was nowhere to be seen. Coward, she snarled, her intrigue fading.
"Had enough?" She called out, goading them. The next time they strike, I'll take their power away, she reasoned, smirking to herself. At least that way, this hasn't been a total waste of time. Through the settling dust, she spotted a figure standing at the top of the staircase ahead of her. She promptly climbed the stairs, keeping an eye out for her adversary, who, to her surprise, had retreated into the club beyond the stairs.
"Hiding now, are we?" She snarled, entering the establishment, feeling the glass crunch under her boots. Sucking her teeth in disgust at the tacky decor in the now shambolic nightclub, she scanned the room, searching for the stranger. She had stalked past the bar onto the dance floor when the room shook. Quickly moving to avoid falling debris, she caught a glimpse of her target. There you are. Anticipating they would try and escape through the front door, she snapped her fingers and disapparated across the room, blocking the doorway.
Got ya. She raised her hands, ready to attack as the stranger rounded the corner, coming out of hiding from behind the DJ booth. It was like she had been gut-punched, all the air in her lungs escaping all at once. Agatha gazed upon the young woman's frightened face in shock and awe. She looked much like Agatha had remembered, except all grown up, with the same wild, curly hair and her grandmother's blue-grey eyes. All this time? Her throat grew tight as tears threatened to spring.
"Nicole?" Was all she could muster before the room shuddered once more, and a deluge of debris fell upon the young woman faster than she could react. A large piece of debris sent Agatha falling backwards, landing heavily on the floor by the doorway. "NICOLE!" She screamed in horror, the woman now hidden under a pile of rubble.
Before she could get up, a blast of energy sent the debris flying all over the place, much of it narrowly missing her. She quickly got to her feet and saw Nicole standing among the rubble. "Nick…" Agatha trailed off, noticing her daughter's demeanour had changed drastically. The woman's hands trembled, yellow energy seeping from them, and she looked up at her mother with cold, black eyes. "No…" Agatha breathed as she raised a hand in warning.
In a flash, Nicky swung a fist at her mother, sending a blazing hot bolt of yellow energy in her direction.
"Explain yourself!" Agatha bellowed at Ebony. Back in her drawing room at Salem, she stood over her familiar, still dishevelled from the fight.
"I wanted to be sure it was her first," the cat defended herself, arching her back aggressively. The familiar had watched the encounter from afar, praying Agatha wouldn't go overboard, hurting herself or Nicole. I should have intervened, she scolded herself before looking up at her mistress, staring at the witch with conviction. It wouldn't have mattered, the cat realised, remembering how quickly Agatha had stepped in; how eager she was for a confrontation. She wouldn't have listened to me.
"It WAS her!" The witch gesticulated wildly, her eyes bright with anger. "I saw her, Ebony. It was her!"
"I didn't want to get your hopes up," Ebony hissed, her black fur starting to stand on end. "I needed to make sure. Besides, there is something wrong…"
"You're right!" Agatha interjected. "There is something wrong. You've been keeping things from me, like the fact you found my daughter!"
"No!" Ebony grunted, frustrated with her mistress' stubbornness. "There is something wrong with her. With Nicole."
"You don't say…" Agatha spat, turning away from her familiar and collapsing into the chaise lounge, panting softly from all the yelling. "There she was, all frightened and coy one second," she continued, her voice more measured now. "The next, we were fighting in a Barnes and Noble." She closed her eyes and brought a hand to her face. After Nicole emerged from the rubble, the rest of the fight had been a blur for Agatha. Through the melee, her mind raced, trying to process what she was seeing. All the while, she did her best to defend herself against the flurry of attacks from the young witch without hurting her. At some point during all the chaos, the pair ended up inside the Power Plant shopping complex, trading blows in the bookstore. Agatha tried, repeatedly, to reason with her, pleading with her to stop, but her words fell on deaf ears as Nicole wordlessly continued her assault.
"This is why I have been watching her," Ebony explained, now sitting on the Persian rug that covered much of the parlour room floor. "From what I have seen, this has all the hallmarks of a possession." Agatha gave her familiar a befuddled look. "I wouldn't lie to you," Ebony approached Agatha cautiously, speaking softly and letting her guard down.
"Oh, like you haven't been withholding from me this entire time!" The witch snapped, her eyes wrenching open to glare at the cat. Ebony paused, deciding to keep her distance.
"Again, I didn't want you to rush in!" Ebony shook her head. "Look at what happened. You blasted her out of a building!" Agatha went silent, her eyes misty as she recalled watching her deflected blast hit Nicole square in the chest, sending her through a shop window and hurtling into the river outside. From the building top, she watched on numbly as the dock workers pulled her from the water. Subconsciously, she raised a hand to her stomach. The entire ordeal had left her feeling ill. "I'm glad you came to your senses and didn't follow her to the hospital," the cat continued. "Not sure that would have turned out well." She paused and glanced at Agatha, sitting back on the lounge pensively. "They took her to Johns Hopkins," the cat added.
"Ha!" Agatha blurted out, shaking her head in disbelief. "After all this time…"
"Her housemate works there," Ebony jumped onto the lounge, settling close to Agatha. "I have been watching him a little too. He seems like a reasonable young man. Perhaps you should talk to him first? Having a friend nearby might make confronting her a little easier."
"Perhaps you're right," Agatha sighed listlessly before giving the cat a scratch behind the ears.
"In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on Nicole," Ebony purred. "Promise me you'll wait before you try and speak to her again?"
"Sure," Agatha lied. "I'll wait."
Part.5 - Act 3
The world was dark and quiet until faint footsteps and the rustling of loose clothing disturbed the silence.
Nicky opened her eyes ever so slightly, peering towards her bedroom door through her lashes. By her bedside was the girl from her waking nightmare from nights earlier. The child's features were distorted, looking through half-closed eyes. However, Nicky could distinguish the purple octopus printed against the light blue shirt she wore. The same girl, she thought. The girl leaned in, her necklace dangling from her neck. It's me…
"Remember the words," the girl whispered urgently, grabbing onto her shirt anxiously.
"What words?" Nicky mumbled back, stirring a little. Such small movements caused sparks of pain across her shoulders and back, causing her to wince and shut her eyes tight. When she opened them again, the girl was gone, leaving Nicky alone in the dimly lit room, wondering what her younger self had meant.
Her eyes wandered to her bedside table, where she saw her phone. It appeared to be charging, a black cable trailing out from the port leading down under the bed. Chester must have plugged it in, she supposed, figuring he had done it when they returned home. When was that? It suddenly struck her that she had no recollection of how she came to be back in bed. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall the last thing she remembered and was met with a vision of the lich looking down at her as she fell down the stairs at Druid Hill. A shiver ran down her spine, the chilling sensation spreading to her fingertips and toes.
Pushing the memory out of her mind, she reached for the phone, cringing as her back ached. The phone unlocked, lighting Nicky's face, and she was met with a flurry of notifications. Text messages. Missed calls, some from Tony, Shannon, Louis, and others from Unknown. Emails from college admin and tutors. Class reminders. Debt notices. The never-ending chain reminded her of all the time she had lost over the past week, showing her just how much her life had spiralled out of control. A knot formed in her throat, and she let the phone drop back onto the tabletop. Her eyes itching with tears, she forced them shut, curled up beneath the covers and tried to will herself back to sleep.
"So… the hotel was the last place you saw Nicky?" Chester wondered aloud, watching Agatha, perched on a kitchen stool.
"Correct," Agatha answered, her arm shoulder-deep in her purse. Across the kitchen bench, she had assembled all manner of talismans, crystals, charms, vials, some with herbs, others with mystery liquids, and other occult accoutrements. Once she had found what she was looking for, a palm-sized onyx stone, she began moving furniture around and placing different objects into various spaces around the room. In each corner, she placed two white, rectangular crystals, and by the door, the black stone.
"And it was the last place you saw Salem's Seven?" Chester continued as he watched the witch spin around the room, plotting out her next move.
"No, no. Just Thorn and Gazelle. Those two specific members," she placed her hands on her hips and blew a strand of hair off her face. "I killed the rest later." Agatha gave Chester a quick glance, raising her eyebrows, before moving towards the couch, pushing it against the wall. "It all makes sense. The yellow magic, the pyrokinesis, the smoke," she spoke while she drew a circle in the middle of the room, much like she had the other night, only this time with thick grey chalk. "Salem's Seven had some knowledge of Salemite Magic. Of course, they did. I had taught their Master about the arts. Like he needed to know. Prick knew a lot more than he let on…" Agatha waved a hand as if to move the conversation along, swatting that did bit aside. "That's beside the point," she continued, stopping to assess her work. She let out a long sigh."The point is, I know who they are now. And that means I've got their ass. This place is going to be airtight by the time I'm done here." She then began to draw a star within the circle, followed by intricate sigils at each point.
"And then we'll do the exorcism?" Chester stressed, fiddling with a vial, unsure what to do with himself. Shimmering blue liquid sloshed inside. Agatha noticed and snatched the vial out of his hand.
"Right!" She snapped. "We'll be done before midnight. I'll force them out, and thanks to all this," She gestured at her handy work, "They'll have nowhere to hide. Then I'll ship their sorry soul to hell or whatever hell-adjacent space works. Ebony?"
"Yes?" The cat called from the top of the stairs.
"How is she looking?" Agatha asked, biting her lip while she cocked her head to better hear her familiar.
"Still unconscious," Ebony replied in her husky drawl.
"Is that going to be a problem?" Chester fretted, now playing with his phone, turning it in his hands.
"Hopefully not…" Agatha started when a knock on the door interrupted her chain of thought, the loud rapping making both her and Chester jump a little in surprise.
Nicky's eyes wrenched open suddenly, a surge of white-hot pain pulsing through her skull. She gasped, the sensation feeling like her head was going to split in two. A disembodied voice filled her ears with sinister, indecipherable whispers, making her pulse rush. Nicky twisted in her sheets, covering her ears with her hands, moaning between each burst of pain that travelled from the nape of her neck to her crown.
Her skin started to heat up, and in a moment, she and the bed were drenched in perspiration. On the verge of panic, Nicky tried to launch herself out of bed when she suddenly felt pressure on her chest, pushing her back onto the mattress. It was as if someone was kneeling on her, pinning her down. The pressure increased, and soon, she found herself struggling to breathe.
"Ches!" Nicky yelped desperately. Without turning her head, she cast her eyes towards the bedroom door. Somehow, it looked further away than it usually did. Sucking in a ragged breath, she tried again. "Ebony?!" The pressure mounted again, her ribs bowing inwards, threatening to snap. Nicky grunted in pain and gritted her teeth. She reached out reflexively and tried to push whatever was on top of her away, but her arms simply passed through empty space. "AGATHA!" She cried, but her voice simply echoed around the room, which now sounded cavernous.
The pressure mounted once again, and Nicky felt as if she might have been at her threshold. She grabbed onto the sheets tightly, unsure of what else to do. Just as the pain had reached its peak, it waned, the pressure lifting and the whispers receding. Nicky gulped desperately, letting the air fill her lungs fully, her chest rising against aching ribs. What didn't let up, though, was the heat. Her skin continued to burn fiercely as fever wracked her body.
Nicky tore the sheets off her but found no relief. A surge of heat travelled up her back, forcing sweat out of every pore. Reeling from the pain and fever, Nicky pulled herself out of bed and desperately stumbled towards the window. I need air, she thought as with each step, the whispers grew louder, deepening her despair. At the window ledge, Nicky wrenched the curtains open, revealing an ethereal purple-green sky, and lifted the window open. The air outside was stale. Frustrated and nauseous, Nicky let out a guttural cry, her knuckles whitening as she grasped onto the sill, unsure if she was going to collapse or vomit. Someone help… she opened her lips to cry out once more.
"Hey, kiddo," a familiar voice called out behind her. Nicky's eyes widened in astonishment. Suddenly, she could feel a presence close by. Hesitantly, she let go of the window sill and began to turn around. As she did so, she spotted the black shirt, the words "Manzo Mobile" printed over their heart.
"To -" Nicky started, her voice wavering with confusion. Before she could finish speaking or even look up at their face, she felt a hand grab hers and pull her towards him. In a flash, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tight. "Ah!" Nicky squeaked. "Tony?"
"Shh." As he embraced her, the whispers faded away along with pain. Her fever subsided, and the only heat she felt now was from his body. Nicky stood there frozen, uncertain of what was happening. Strong arms squeezed her reassuringly, and she found herself hugging them back. Tears sprang up in her eyes quickly, and she let them fall, feeling caught somewhere between comfort and anguish.
"Who the hell is that?" Agatha caterwauled, throwing her arms up in disbelief.
"How should I know?" Chester shrugged, annoyed by Agatha's blustery reaction. He barely had time to give the witch some side eye before the knocking switched to banging. With each thud, the door shook violently, the vibrations making the front window rattle. Chester flinched a little.
"Urgh," Agatha sneered. "Tell them to fuck off," she gestured at the door belligerently. Shaking his head, Chester capitulated, jumping off the stool. He stomped across the living room to open the door. The banging continued, steady and aggressive.
"OK! Oh my god! Quit banging…" he shouted, unlocking the door. As the door swung open, Chester felt his face fall, immediately feeling guilty. Standing on the porch was Tony, his eyes gleaming with trepidation.
Nicky wasn't sure how long she had been standing in his arms. She had cried for what felt like hours before she finally closed her eyes, the tears soon stopping. Everything was still in her room, and the only noise she could register was that of her breathing. Having calmed down, her cheeks starting to dry, Nicky stirred between his arms. She let go of him and began to pull away. But the arms holding her were stiff and unyielding.
"Um, Tony?" Nicky wriggled awkwardly, her body still pressed close to his. "You can let go now." She opened her eyes and gazed down at the hand that clung to her left shoulder. Bile rose in her throat when she set eyes on the charred skin, its rotten fingers revealing blackened bones underneath. Fear took hold of her as she instinctively attempted to wrestle her way out of its grasp. Squeezing her arms between her chest and theirs, cringing at the unsettling sensation of her forearms sliding against what felt like charcoal, she tried to pry herself away. "Ag…!" She choked, her scream cut short. Its grip tightened, constricting and crushing her rib cage. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she barely had a second to think before she blacked out.