Page 19 of Poltergeists & Change of Life

For a moment, I saw a flicker of the real Hattie in those otherworldly eyes. There was a fraction of a second where I saw a flash of recognition and pain. Then it was gone. It was replaced by a fury so intense I could practically feel my eyebrows sizzling.

"Lies!" Hattie roared, and the house shook with her rage. "Lyra gave me strength! Lyra gave me purpose!"

"Lyra gave you a one-way ticket to Crazy Town. Population: you," I shot back. "Come on, Hattie. Think! Would the real you ever want this? To hurt people? To destroy the home you loved so much?"

For a breathless moment, I thought I'd gotten through to her. Hattie's form stabilized. She looked more like the woman I remembered and less like an evil witch's fashion experiment. It didn’t last long. Lyra's magic surged, making Stella yelp and close the distance to my side.

“Has Lyra found her way into the house?” Stella whispered.

I shook my head. “No. Look. It’s just her power.” I pointed to the dark tendrils of energy that wrapped around Hattie and seeped into her spectral body. It was like watching a time-lapse video of corruption. Hattie screamed. What came out was a sound of pure anguish that made my heart break.

"Phoebe!" Aidon yelled, grabbing my arm. "The potion. Now!"

Right. Our magical Hail Mary. It was contained in a convenient travel-size bottle. I fumbled with the vial and nearly dropped it when Hattie's transformation reached its terrifying climax. A creature straight out of my worst nightmares stood where Hattie had been moments before. Trust me, being pregnant with triplets had given me some pretty weird dreams. This thing made those seem like pleasant daydreams in comparison.

The massive spirit filled the room with wrongness that went down to a molecular level. Tentacles of pure shadow whipped through the air. They left trails of darkness that hurt to look at directly. And at the center of it all was Hattie's face. It was contorted in a silent scream.

"Oh, come on!" I yelled. "This is just excessive. Regular ghost powers weren't enough? You had to go full Lovecraft?"

The creature that used to be Hattie roared. The sound existed somewhere between a banshee's wail and nails on the universe's chalkboard. One of the windows shattered and rained glass that thankfully bounced off Stella's hastily erected shield. Good thing her mind was firing on all cylinders because mine was not.

"Any time now, Phoebe!" Mom shouted from somewhere behind me. "Preferably before it decides to destroy everything!"

Shit. The potion. I had to save the world.Focus, Phoebe. I took a deep breath and then locked eyes with what I hoped was still Hattie. She had to be in there somewhere in that writhing mass of tentacles and terror. I did the only thing I could think of. I charged.

Look, I told you my pregnant brain wasn’t working like normal. But sometimes, when faced with impossible odds and a distinct lack of better options, you had to take a page out of the 'Leeroy Jenkins Guide to Tactics' and go for it.

As I ran towards certain doom with the vial clutched in my hand like the world's least effective weapon, I had just one thought: If we survived this, I was definitely going to need a vacation. And chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. Running at a tentacled monstrosity while heavily pregnant wasn't exactly what they covered in Lamaze class. I made a mental note to suggest a new chapter for ‘What to Expect When You're Expecting’. It would be titled, ‘Week 35: Confronting Cosmic Horrors and Other Light Cardio’.

As I closed the distance, the creature that was once Hattie lashed out. A tendril of darkness whipped toward me. I had a split second to think, "This is going to hurt worse than the time I tried hot yoga," before it connected.

The impact never came. Instead, the darkness seemed to pass right through me. My babies had erected a shield aroundus. All I experienced was a chill that went soul-deep. Using my thumb, I flipped the cork out of the top. I couldn’t forget the ‘drink me’ part of this Alice in Wonderland nightmare. I’d be a shitty hero if I forgot the most crucial part of our ‘Save the World in Three Easy Steps’ plan. Step one: Brew potion. Step two: Drink potion. Step three: Don't die horribly. It was simple, really.

I brought the vial to my lips and downed its contents in one gulp. Pro tip: World-saving potions tasted like a smoothie made of regret and broken promises, with a hint of mint. Persephone and Mom needed to work on their recipe. Maybe they could add some pineapple next time. Or vodka. Definitely vodka.

The effect was immediate. And frankly, trippy as hell. My vision blurred, and the world took on a kaleidoscopic quality. It made me want to add a ‘Handling Magical Hallucinogens 101’ class to the introductory to magic educational program I wanted to create.

Heat surged through my veins. It felt like liquid starlight and molten determination had decided to throw a rave in my bloodstream. Every cell in my body was vibrating and humming with a power that felt ancient and new all at once. It was like being plugged directly into the universe's power socket. If the universe ran on caffeine, adrenaline, and pure unadulterated sass.

"Oh," I breathed and blinked rapidly as the world came into sharp focus. And I mean sharp. I could see the individual motes of dust swirling in the air. I could also trace the patterns of energy flowing through the room like rivers of light. "That's... wow. Is this how Persephone sees things all the time? No wonder she always looks so smug. If I had HD vision for the fabric of reality, I'd be insufferable too."

The creature formerly known as Hattie recoiled. Its tentacles writhed in what I hoped was agony and not just a particularlyenergetic dance routine. Its form seemed less solid now. It was flickering at the edges like a bad TV signal. "Hattie?" I called out. The way my voice resonated with power surprised me. It was like I'd swallowed a magical megaphone.

"Can you hear me? It's Phoebe. I'm here to help. Also, if you could stop with the whole 'tentacle monster from beyond' thing, that'd be great. It's not a good look for you. Plus, it's hell on the furniture. Do you know how hard it is to get ectoplasm out of upholstery?” I paused and sobered and then told her, “I miss you and would love to see your beautiful smile again."

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, like a mirage solidifying in the desert, Hattie's human form emerged from the writhing mass of shadows. She looked... well, dead, obviously. But also confused. Almost like someone who'd just woken up from a century-long nap to find the world had moved on without her. I could relate. I felt the same way every time I tried to understand TikTok.

"Phoebe?" Hattie's voice was faint and echoed as if from a great distance. "What... where am I? What's happening?"

"Oh, you know," I shrugged, aiming for casual and probably landing somewhere closer to manic. "You fell victim to Lyra’s dark magic and cosmic horrors. How are you feeling? Other than, you know, being dead and recently yanked out of the afterlife."

Hattie's form flickered, and pain etched across her features. "It hurts," she whispered. "Lyra... she's in my head.” Her hands flew up to cradle her skull. “Her magic... it's too strong."

"Fight it, Hattie," I urged, taking a step closer. The shadows around her recoiled from me like I was made of sunlight and stern disapproval. Given the potion coursing through me, that might not have been far off. I felt like a walking, talking ‘No Smoking’ sign for dark magic. "You're stronger than her magic. You're Hattie freaking Silva."

A ghost of a smile touched Hattie's lips. "Yes, I am."

“You're the woman who built a legacy with grit and enough stubbornness to put a mule to shame. You saved my life and changed my world. You're not some puppet for a third-rate witch with delusions of grandeur and a serious need for a hobby that doesn't involve corrupting the dead. Maybe she should take up lion taming. Or underwater basket weaving. Perhaps competitive cloud watching would be more her speed. Or she could try her hand at professional pillow fluffing. Anything less... nefarious."

---