The great rift was happening, or at least in the eyes of everyone affected by the smoke it was. Looking up, Agnes focused in the task at hand, needing to keep at the ready for the most expected of events, but she could help but admire what her and her sisters were doing. This was exactly what they wanted, what they believed would be coming. It was a blessing to share this vision with the rest of the world, or at least those people now enlightened by their presence. Truly it would be a bone-chilling sight, but that was what this world needed, a reminder of just exactly how small they were.

Though she could see that her sister was interrupted by a new individual, one brave enough to stand up to her and the horrors from beyond the darkness, Agnes had her own problems to deal with. A small troupe in the park, those resisting her influence, or at least trying to, were becoming problematic. She could hear them as they crossed the park, following the children who had formed the army around her. When one of the individuals approached, a man dressed like a Scottish warrior. He began to shout.

>>"You, this is all you. You're the crazy b---- calling them through."

Pest.

She narrowed her eyes at the advancing group. They were crumbling. All they needed was one more push to ensure that they would no longer pose a problem. So called out to Scottish leader. ”Are you a god?” she shouted in defiance. ”If not, then die!”

Another pulse of her terrible power and suddenly the smoke began to take shape in front of the gathered individuals. The beast was terrible. The shape was unlike anything that had been seen before. It looked like the most primordial of terrors, a long, winding, shapeless mass that possessed hundreds of fang-filled mouths, all pointed in different directions, and wrapping around the jungle gym that she stood atop of. The beast was massive and moved with suck fluidity it seemed more like a membrane wrapped around putrid mixture of flesh, blood, and fluids. The mouths didn’t help any as they gnashed teeth and roared in defiance towards all corners of the park.

Agnes barely saw it, but she felt the presence of another one, one extremely fast. With only a thought, the undulating beast firmly wrapped around the playground set, blocking any from getting close and merely continued and snap and anything that moved. Her protector set, her army in place, Agnes raised her eyes. The ritual would be completed!

FEAR GAUGE

Ahagl's soth l' ah'lloigshogg mgng nilgh'ri!

DICE ROLL

#1 Stephanie Graves (Stephanie) 4/5
#2 Gina Schuyler (Khalil) 4/5
X #3 Artair Hawke 5/5
#4 Ranger 3/5

It appeared that Khalil did not appreciate the gravity of a threat to break his arms, and in that moment, the normally rational Stephanie really wanted to deliver on her promise. The demon man was kept unmolested because he was nowhere near Stephanie’s highest concerns. As always, Malia was her first priority, but the writhing forms surrounding her came in as a close second.

The horrors around them encouraged Khalil to be less stingy with his flames for a moment, which was enough for Stephanie’s shadow to strangle the tentacle around her ankle, forcing it to release her. She scrambled to her feet, looking around to realize the Scot and the Cowboy had ran forward. Stephanie’s initial reaction was to shout obscenities before she realized it was best that they were abandoning her; she did not matter, but if they could get to Malia, that was best.

Unless they crushed her like an ant in their path. They were more concerned with the nightmare than her daughter; what if one of those idiots ran her daughter through or shot her with a six-shooter and—

Okay, Stephanie had to stop thinking like that! She used her shadow to spear two nearby tentacles and charged forward. She braced for her shadow to fade away once she was no longer close enough to Khalil, but that was when the truth finally hit her. The tear in the sky was full of unexplainable horrors and psychedelic lights, but they were still lights and she was still close enough to form some kind of shadow. She could run forward with her shield as a buffer, lightly bumping children out of her way and spearing anything more intimidating.

The dark was not as dark as her mind led her to believe, which made her wonder what else was all in her head? The smoke? The children? The crawling feeling on her skin? She looked back down at herself now that the lighting was finally passable.

It was not just a crawling feeling. Spiders were crawling up her dress, bodice, legs, and arms. The scream that earned was blood-curdling and Stephanie relied on her instinctive defensive reaction, turning into her shadowform.

As much as she appreciated the Halloween costume her daughter picked out, it was not going to come along for the ride, so Stephanie slipped out of the garb, gliding across the ground quickly like a shadowy specter. In shadowform, there was no skin-crawling because there was no skin. If she felt pressure on herself, it was going to be lanced by a spike formed from her shadowmass.

With shadowy spikes still protruding from her shoulders, Stephanie finally made it to the men of her group only to find they were not alone. She looked up at a creature that defied explanation. It almost looked like a shadowy form, but more opaque and tangible than the shadowmancer herself.

And the maws. Gnashing, angry teeth, descending upon the Scot. ”What in the nine hells…” Her shadowform was useful, but the light they were working with was not bright enough to grant her the kind of strength she accessed at top level. Still, they had to figure something out because behind the beast, a young woman stood surrounded by children.

And in the closest circle around her stood a little girl in a curly red wig and a toy boy hanging lazily at her side.

Stephanie was on the move, the spiraling lights from above giving her enough "oomph" to drop into her shadow form. She wasn't totally vulnerable, in that form-- maybe even "safe", though it would very generous to use that term in the situation. Khalil vaulted off the ground, taking his chances in the air rather than surrendering to the terrors on the ground. He still needed to "protect" Stephanie, but since she was on the move, he wasn't going to wait for things to comme at him.

The sleeves were dropped as he flew hastily into the park, towards the throes of the conflict, following the Scot, the cowboy, and the dearest shadowy denizen, who was now lost in the fog. Kids were gathering around the playground, and some b***h was yelling at the Scot from the top of the playground. She was probably to blame. Khalil was a good ten yards out from them when the worm was summoned, and he swerved to avoid it.

His fear-addled brain could scarcely process what he saw. Mouths, mouths, so many mouths, all purple-- rolling, roiling, stinking horribly. A sob rose within him, as did the urge to flee, but he grit his teeth, a pathetic noise escaping him. He wanted to run. But not without Stephanie. Not without Malia. He was responsible for them. But he also... goddamnit... he also cared. Khalil lingered in the air, beating his wings so as to remain stationary and slightly distant from the nightmare below. He was behind the lady and the... mouth-worm-thing... facing the children, as well.

The lady would be an impossible target from a distance, and getting close to her meant getting close to the worm. Out of the question. He had to go for the worm or--

The worm lunged at something unseen, a spray of woodchips exploding as it lunged. Wood chips. Khalil watched as the small bits of bark sprayed towards the mass of children. The playground... was covered... with wood chips.

"Heh."

A manic smile touched the frenzied demon's features. Even if the mist had dampened the woodchips, or made them too damp to ignite, could still produce smoke. And even awful, otherworldly b***hes needed to breath... right? The idea was too crazy, but... if it worked... what else was there to lose?

Flames engulfed the demon's hands, swirling until they formed perfect, softball-sized orbs of fire. Khalil dove towards the playground, towards the worm, flying in the face of all reason. If he couldn't send them up in flames, he'd smoke them the f**k out.

"One-" the first fireball was lobbed at the worm, towards one of its many snarling mouths, "-two-" towards the woodchips beneath the playground. The worm shrieked, enraged, as the fireball met its mark, the "head" (if it could be called that) snapping in his direction. The demon banked left, with a frenzied flap of his wings, already crafting another pair of fireballs in each of his palms, "-three-" again at the worm, to hold its attention, "-four-" again, at the wood chips, bank right. He purposefully avoided the blonde schoolgirl from Hell for, if he missed her or if she dodged, the fire would go towards the kids.

"Hey you f***ing earthworm!" Khalil yelled artlessly, "Want some more? Daddy's got some nice, spicy treats for you."

He held up a fifth fireball enticingly, smirking through the heart palpitations and the beading sweat upon his forehead, through the tears that were threatening to spill. This was crazy. He was going to die fighting a high-schooler and a mouth-warm. He was going to die a criminal.

"What about you, b****?" Khalil yelled at the blond, his voice cracking, "I'm no god, but as a demon, I can show you a Hell of a time! We could start with melting half your face off, it'd really seal that apocalyptic vibe you've got going on!" You couldn't really... scar children if they were entranced, right? Yeah, that sounded about right!

"Hey, you! I'm talking to you! Whaddya say!?"

It was crazy, this was all crazy, but people did crazy things when they were terrified witless. That's why it was called witless. Apparently when Khalil was terrified, he reverted to antagonizing the things that posed the greatest threat to him.

He'd found her, found the place all this was coming from. They had a shot now, a chance to end everything before the water rose and swallowed him in its depths. If they could only get close enough Artair could stop the ritual before it was too late.

Then she unleashed hell.

Screaming words he could barely hear over the waves a monster born in the deepest reaches of a madman's mind take shape. Pulling itself together from smoke itself and surging up as a protector, it was a sight he couldn't understand, couldn't believe. Everything had shifted sidewards, like the world was tilted all this time but he just hadn't been able to see it. Now here it was, staring right at him, roaring in a hundred different voices, a dozen different eyes glaring at him balefully. The Scot couldn't imagine the situation getting worse.

Of course it did though, as if alive the water responded to the cries, rising up around him. Faster and faster it raced up his body, passing his chest in a matter of seconds. He couldn't die here! Drowning on dry land, so far from home. Yet all his struggling, his attempts to tread water and fight agaisnt the coursing tide did nothing! He was stuck, glued to the ground by some force and no amount of fighting it was pushing his head higher above water. Constructs flickered in and out of being, his mind too unfocused to keep one together long enough to help him.

Movements getting more frantic, thoughts more scatter, it passed his mouth. He hadn't been able to get a breathe. It was too little. His chest burned, his lungs fought and struggled without anything in them.

Eyes bulging, arms flailing around him, his body finally rebelled. In one desperate, biological response it drew in a deep breathe. 

Artair felt it. Felt the dark liquid burning into his lungs. Felt it fill them with death as they spasmed at the intrusion. He was finally done. That moment of weakness, of instinct had killed him. Falling forward and curling up in pain, his vision darkened before going totally black.

Ranger skid to a stop. Before he could reach the young woman a large beast that looked like something out of Roger Waters’ Pink Floyd nightmares formed out of the smoke. The beast wrapped itself protectively around where the young woman was.

A quick look around for something to fight the beast with. And he saw the snow begin to fall as tracer fire began to fly across the sky. And fireballs rained from the sky.

The sounds of the gunfire were what he had heard overseas. Automatic fire from Soviet era weaponry. Ranger could also hear helos moving in above him. It was the sounds of an invasion. The fireballs ignited wood chips on the ground and set other areas to smoking. Ranger’s sight returned to normal once the heat from the wood was making it difficult to see anything else.

His normal vision showed him the beast, the fire, the smoke, the tendrils, and another shadow being facing the beast. The swordsman, who Ranger could now recognize from his file at Haven, was down.

The sound of gunfire grew louder. Whoever was fighting nearby was approaching. And Ranger was standing in the open.

Ranger had a pistol in appendix carry in the front of his pants, but it sounded like an army was invading New York CIty, a single pistol would not be able to accomplish much. Not to mention not being able to do much against whatever the terror that had just formed was.

He wavered for a brief moment before moving into action. The beast was the first priority, it was immediately in front of him and might be related. What were the odds of someone invading the United States while an unrelated shadow attack is unleashed?

His speed returned to normal Ranger ran to a nearby street light. He grabbed it and pulled. It took a moment but his power gave him strength to rip it free at the breakaway couplings. Moving much more slowly, his muscles movement restricted by their new size, Ranger made his way back to the beast to beat it with his oversized stick. Each swing took time to get moving, but would have considerable force behind it. His focus was on the beast, and while he swung high enough to avoid children he wasn’t watching if anyone else came close.

Agnes sweated as she watched the madness overtake those few people who attempted to approach her from the park. This wasn’t the plan. Each of them were ragged, twitching, shaking, already the fear was seeping deeper and deeper into them, a small relief to her. They weren’t going to make it much farther. All they needed was one more little push and any opposition against the arrival of her masters would finally topple. The world would be opened and free for them to enter and take root within the wasteland of this planet. The end would come and it would all be because of these three sisters.

The protector surged forward, a blight upon this world. No one would be able to stand against it, or at least that was what Agnes thought. Watching as her guardian threatened the last shreds of sanity for the gathered troop, it didn’t escape her attention that one still stood up against her, or rather, flew? Her nostrils flared at the demon’s defiance. Everyone else crumbled, why wouldn’t he?

>>"Hey, you! I'm talking to you! Whaddya say!?"

He shouted towards her. He set the grounds aflame. Children willing moved towards her, seeking to protect her, not caring that the fires were so close. Their will was only to protect her. But these interlopers, well, Agnes put as much force into her fear generation as she could, delving deep into demon’s mind, seeking out those last little morsels of hope he held onto and extinguishing them with a flick of her fingers. Sadly, it would seem that the action itself would result in a rather unexpected surprise.

Agnes gasped, feeling the entire jungle gym she stood upon and shake underneath her. She stumbled, her guardian flickered, and suddenly there was a sound of angry metal grinding against metal. Her guardian roared in anger as perceived pain ripped through out its body. Of course the creature was only an extension of Agnes and made of little more than smoke and mirrors. She turned and watched as a lamppost, lifted by another, was being used to bat at the beast, swiping through it, and slamming against the playground equipment. The second that the beast was struck, it passed through, sending sand, flaming wood, and bits of metal through the air, several bits come close to running the witch. Unable to hold her footing on the structure, Agnes toppled off with a crash into the smoldering woodchips and cringe.

”OMPH! NO!!” she shouted. She cringed, grabbing her leg. Her eyes flared brighter as her beast began to vanish from sight. ”WE CANNOT FAIL!!!” Her eyes as bright as miniature suns, Agnes mentally reached out to her sisters, pulling and adding their power to her own and vice versa, making their abilities threefold. They would show these people true horrors with One. Last. Push!

Silence filled the air that is until the psychedelic rip in space high above the city ripped wide and open. From the heavens (now hell) the cosmic horrors descended upon the earth. The end had come.

FEAR GAUGE

Ahagl's soth l' ah'lloigshogg mgng nilgh'ri!

DICE ROLL

X Artair Hawke 5/5
#1 Stephanie Graves (Stephanie) 4/5
#2 X Gina Schuyler (Khalil) 5/5
#3 Ranger 4/5

Being in shadowform normally gave Stephanie an opportunity to feel safe, which should have helped her get into a calm mindset. She was invulnerable in the new form, which should have taken one concern off her mind, but the pressing fear of her daughter being taken away by interdimensional(?) nightmares was too pervasive, taking up all the space in her mind and her heart where calm could have fit. She would be crying in frustration and panic if her tear ducts were not comprised of living shadow.

Khalil was in the sky, ducking and weaving with a grace Steph rarely gave him credit for. He was, for once, not the most terrifying looking thing in the sky. The worm dropped close to Stephanie and she had to slink out of the way to almost dodge it. An arm was bitten by one of the passing maws, but she was able to reform it quickly. She was trying to think or plan, but rational thoughts were being drowned out by a louder internal voice shouting, KILL IT! over and over again.

Suddenly, a renewed strength filled Stephanie as she felt a rush of power through her dark body. Looking around, a barely distinguishable grin fell upon her shadowy lips because Khalil had started setting wood chips (and the worm itself) on fire, providing brighter, closer light than the sky tear.

Everyone was prioritizing the worm because they knew it was the biggest threat, even if it was not the cause of the problem. The cowboy grabbed a telephone pole—a whole damn telephone pole—and he took a swing, nearly running the pole through Stephanie’s waist before clobbering the worm. She dove away toward the Scot, who seemed paralyzed on the ground. That would not do! They needed everyone to fight the beast or they’d all die! Malia would die!

The Scot needed a nudge in the right direction and with a heightened level of strength, The Silhouette could offer that. Her shadowy arms lifted the man off the ground and, doing what she felt to be the most reasonable thing in her situation, she shouted, ”SLASH AND STAB, SWORD MAN!” before chucking the man with force toward the flying worm who was descending toward. He had weapons. He would be fine.

Steph was the one who had to get out of the way of the divebombing worm. Diving back or sideways meant she could still get potentially caught, but if she dove forward toward the worm, she would get under him. Stephanie usually avoided large, dark shadows in shadowform, since the lack of present light could knock her out of the transformation, but she had no time for logic when she was about to be crushed-and-or-eaten, so she leapt forward.

And much to her surprise, Stephanie landed on a new patch of woodchips after emerging from the shadow of a large slide behind the blonde witch. It took the ex-thief a moment to realize what on earth might have just happened before realizing that it did not matter; not yet. Not when, for the first time, she was just barely outside of the scope of the young woman who had not yet realized where she was.

Beasts and forms and incomprehensible shapes were descending onto New York, but Stephanie could not look up. Up was not the problem. The woman was the problem and the cowboy had knocked her off kilter, so before she could turn around, Stephanie had to approach quickly, charging through unsuspecting children. The b**** was using her daughter to shield her from her enemies and the fire nearby. If a single hair on Malia’s head, wig or not, was singed, Stephanie would tear the woman’s insides out.

Stephanie’s shape devolved into a round blob in an effort to wrap around the woman. With a firm grasp, the ball-like Stephanie recoiled from the ground, taking the woman with her. She had two goals: bounce the woman away from her legion of children and bouncing her toward the Skeledemon, the Scot, and the Cowboy. ”HAVE AT HER!”

A stab of cold terror sheathed itself in Khalil's psyche, pushing deeper, rocking him to his core. He had no pressing phobias, no irrational concerns to send visions cascading before his eyes.

He feared death. A lonely, miserable, terrible death. He knew he wasn't ugly, so "dying ugly" was altogether impossible. But the chill that washed over him made him feel very much alone. This worm could eat him up... the terrors raining from the sky could obliterate him... and no one would know. No one would care. It was utterly devestating, the feeling that rocked through him. The cowboy was beating the sh** out of the worm with a light. The kids were surging forward, the worm flickered out of view, the girl was on the ground.

Tears were melding with oily facepaint and sending streaks down the demon's cheeks. If he was going to die for nothing, with all of these hellacious beasts raining down upon him, he was going to take someone with him. The source of all this. It'd be more difficult for the blond school-girl to dodge now that she was on the ground, and Khalil loomed above her. Stephanie was upon the schoolgirl first, absorbing her in her ever-elastic shadow-form, propelling her away from the children, and depositing her farther off.

>> "Have at her!"

Khalil, who'd already been concocting a hefty fireball, lobbed it at the woman. While he had reservations about harming kids, anyone who tried to bring about the end of this New York or the other would be on the recieving end of a fireball. She couldn't summon any more of the hellbeasts that were now descending upon them if she was burnt to a crisp. The orb combusted, flowering outward around the young woman's feet and legs, and Khalil's mouth twisted into a smile, teeth grit against the urge to sob. A laugh escaped him, a hollow and unconvincing thing.

"If we go, you're going down with us," he spat, inhaling shakily. He'd let the men (and woman) on the ground handle the rest. He needed to save his firepower for the things that loomed above.

The water was wrong, so wrong. He was breathing it, painfully and with far too much effort but he was. Somehow. Even knowing that didn't stop it burning inside his lungs or igniting the primal fear response in him. Artair just laid there, scars throbbing in tune with his laboured breathe.

Unseen things clawed at him still though, wrapped around him, jerked and moved him like a broken toy. Muffled noises failed in his ears but the grip only tightened until it was haul him up. Up and out of the water!

God the air was beautiful, the feeling so good after the oozing blackness of the sea. Not that he had much time to enjoy it before he was airborne and arcing towards the beast that moments before had been on track to drowning him without even a fight. A lot went through his mind. Where was he? Where did his sword go? Oh god that thing is getting closer very fast isn't it?

Crippling fear fought with survival instincts. Thankfully for the Scot instincts won, aided by just a little bit of anger, and he had managed to focus long enough to start pulling out weapons before he smacked straight into the fleshing hell beast. Clinging on for dear life the flying weapons sprang into actions Three swords scythed around him, cutting and slashing at anything near him that looked fleshy. But it wasn't enough. They needed to be faster, cut deeper or he'd fall back into the water. Or be crushed. Or worse. Which was entirely possible given the events so far.

The blades spun at higher and higher speeds, tearing chunks out his opponent. Flashing in and out around him, one even clipped a searching tentacle sending it soaring away from the chaos.

But the water kept rising up to meet him, sending him scrambling higher and higher up the beast. He even nearly made it before some other monster wielding a lamppost like a club sent him tumbling back down towards ground hard. Which was not only covered in water but teeming with so many nasties lurking in it he didn't even try to halt the screaming as he plunged.

Steel met beast and… It passed through like the beast was mist. A couple more swings and there was impact. A loud collision of metal on metal as the playground structure the girl was on was bulldozed by the lightpole. The third swing left Ranger on poor footing and took him a moment to bring the improvised bat to bear again. In that time Artair went flying off past Ranger at the shadowy mist beast. Weapons formed and he went to town on it.

Ranger took the moment to look up. The terrible somethings in the sky were coming, tracer fire was intensifying, helos and aircraft were dogfighting over the streets of New York, and to top it all off the sky was dumping an ocean of snow. The United States was being invaded in the middle of a blizzard.

That settled it. The girl who was causing the local problem was being handled. Now. Once that was addressed he could turn to helping prevent a Red Dawn situation.

Fireballs rained through the snow, a shadow creature had followed Artair toward the woman, and Ranger swung away. Each swing carried enough momentum he had to move a step toward where it when as he walked and swung. He cleared more of the playground structures on his advance. His power gave him flame resistance as he walked through a patch of burning wood.

Then he struck Artair.

It wasn’t in the skull, and it was while Ranger was trying to stop the swing to bring it around the other way. Otherwise Artair might have become wallpaper on a nearby building. Ranger could see to him once the threat was neutralized.

“HAVE AT HER!”

The woman came flying toward Ranger. A massive fireball came down at her. Ranger took a batting pose and swung. No mercy, no quarter. The present situation demanded an immediate resolution to this local event. One death to advance to allow him to the greater threat.

Agnes was quickly losing this fight. She reached out, connecting with her sisters, and opening the illusionary gap high above that the Old Ones were finally invading the world. It should have meant the end of any and all resistance because who could look upon such horrors and still maintain your sanity? In none of the holy texts could humans, save for academics who struggled to make logic from the illogical. These were not scientists, though, these were people, bystanders, wheat ready to be harvested and ground up to be used as the foundations for the new universe. And they they stood, they resisted, and proved to be more than Agnes could stand against.

Lying upon the ground, cringing and holding her wounded leg, she tried to implore her sisters for more aid, to pulling her denizens from around the park to defend and die for her. But the interlopers would prove to be faster than she could comprehend.

The shadows enveloped her, quite suddenly, as she was absorbed and then bounced into a flying arch through the air. Agnes screamed breathlessly, confusion wrapped firmly around her head until she felt herself struck by something hot, and then the heat enveloping her from all around. Still midair, a something sharp cut deep into her side and as the loving embrace of Earth called her back, she lamented that she wouldn’t feel the soft grass. Instead, a swift moving cylinder of metal struck her, hard, against her ribs, cracking several and causing every last bit of air to escape her lungs. Eyes bulged, Agnes hung there against the rigid pole for a moment before the follow through sent her flying backwards. With a harsh thud, Agnes skidded across the grass, clothes ripping, pebbles and stones cutting into skin, until she finally came to a stop several yards away.

Consciousness quickly began to evaporate from Agnes’ mind. Lying, prone and unmoving, she took several ragged breaths, feeling the connection to her sisters fading fast. There was nothing left in any of them, barely enough to hold onto life itself which caused the thick clouds of black mist to dissipate and slowly crumble. Down it fell, like cotton pulled by gravity into the earth. The cosmic horrors from above vanished, fading away into nothing and leaving only a dark, pristine sky where there had once been a mind-altering rip in reality. Now there only stood a full, silver moon and a twinkling of tiny stars.

The horrors were gone. As Agnes lay there, smoldering, the edges of blackness slowly creeping over her field a vision, she gave one last breath of consciousness before she muttered one last thing along with her sisters: ”Fahf ah uh'eor uaaah…” And, with that, Agnes’ head slumped, the last control she had over her minions completely vanishing, and freeing them from the nightmares they once beheld.

FEAR GAUGE

Ahagl's soth l' ah'lloigshogg mgng nilgh'ri!

FINAL RESULTS

X Artair Hawke 5/5
X Gina Schuyler (Khalil) 5/5
Stephanie Graves (Stephanie) 4/5
Ranger 4/5

OOC: The witches are defeated. My involvement is done so continue and end these threads however you like. And congrats to everyone with 5/5 fear points, your character is now scarred for life! Just kidding...or am I? Thank you everyone for an amazing time and Happy Halloween!

✿

Stephanie was not just trying to support the rest of her ragtag team by dragging the witch out from her safe perch. The others were heavy-hitters, but Stephanie held tightly to the woman, so she would not escape, constricting her shadowy body tightly, trying to squeeze the life out of her foe. That would have been slow, but fireballs and a telephone poll were fast.

The fire had no effect on Stephanie’s form, but the effect on the witch was clear from her pained shouting. The telephone poll batting the woman had an effect on both of them, effectively scattering most of Steph’s upper body. It did not hurt, but it was a disorienting feeling and she had to become a puddle to regroup. The witch was not so lucky.

They were victorious. The witch was done. With her fall, the horrors and the flying maw-covered beast vanished into nothingness. The tear in the sky closed up and a chilling wind cut through the area one last time, (not that Steph could feel it.)

Still coming down from the throes of panic, Stephanie did not piece together what was about to happen. The lights in the sky died out, but the playground had no lights nearby. The fires Khalil cast out no longer had anything to burn, so those lights faded away as well. Without light, Stephanie was forced out of her shadowform, but she was still not in a human shape. Her body reverted back to the right shape as she shifted, but it was so forced and, like an elastic band snapping, was accompanied by intense pain. Stephanie screamed, but it was quick and the pain overtook her, knocking her unconscious.

Malia, with free will finally returned to her, ran to her mother, pulling away her red wig to reveal her straight brown hair. ”Mommy! Mommy?” Tears came quickly, and Malia turned to the only other adult she knew enough to talk to. Mommy always told her not to talk to strangers or her friends from work, but she had to talk to someone and Khalil was always nice to her. ”Mister Khalil, is mommy okay?” Malia knew her mother was a mutant who had the ability to play with her shadow, but she did not know about Stephanie’s shadowform. Khalil worked with her mommy, so she hoped he might know if the woman was going to be okay.

Khalil fluttered to the ground, watching the blonde's demise dispassionately. As she faded, the horrific scenes she created faded, too, plunging the park into darkness. The woodchips dulled to just embers in the breeze, the children were coming down from their trances. But the niggling fear had not released its hold on Khalil. It didn't need the external stimulus to stick around. He now felt like absolute sh** on his own volition. He mopped at his eyes, smearing face paint on the back of his gloved hand. A shriek surrounded them, connecting at a source, and a bolt of adrenaline went through Khalil.

Were they really not out of it? A darkness thicker than the dark around them congealed and then fell limply to the ground. Stephanie?

>> "Mommy! Mommy?"

It was her. Khalil ran, too, his legs feeling heavy. Stephanie. No. No, no, no. Khalil closed the distance between himself and the two ladies, a firm hand clasping around Malia's shoulder, squeezing it lightly as he knelt.

>> "Mister Khalil, is mommy okay?"

"I'll check, sweetheart," he murmured, "I'm checking."

A stitch formed in his brow, and two fingers touched to the side of Stephanie's throat, over an artery. He waited. There was a pulse. Khalil sighed, tossing the child a half-smile.

"Mommy is gonna be okay," he assured her. He couldn't leave Stephanie lying on the ground like this. Couldn't be a good thing for the kid to see, "Mommy used her shadow to fight a big, scary thing, and now she's very tired. So, we're gonna take Mommy home and put her to bed, okay?"

Malia nodded her head, fat tears rolling down her cheeks her plump fingers knotting in the red wig. Khalil caught one such tear with a bent index finger, and then tapped her chin.

"You're a brave girl, Malia," Khalil assured her, "Can you keep being brave for Mommy?"

The child nodded her head, hiccuping unceremoniously. Khalil nodded, "Good girl."

He looped an arm under Stephanie's arm and around her back, pulling her into a sitting position. Another arm was tucked beneath her knees. Stephanie would kill him if she caught him carrying her bridal style. With that thought eating away at him, Khalil rose to his feet, adjusting Stephanie in his hold.

"Gentlemen," he said, clearing his throat and nodding his head to the cowboy and the Scot, "I would love to say that it's been a pleasure, but..." He gave a knowing smile, "I'm going to get my two friends back home, if that's quite alright with you."

The last thing he needed was for the kid to notice the dead girl in the darkness. He wouldn't hear the end of that. Whether or not the cowboy or the Scot bade him farewell was beyond Khalil. With one final adjustment of Stephanie's dead weight, nestling her head against his shoulder so that she didn't loll about, Khalil began to walk.

"Come on, sweetheart," Khalil said, "Let's go home."

Artair came down, hard. Really hard. Broken bones kind of hard which was really strange given how much water he'd been falling into. He'd not been that high up had he? And why wasn't he getting torn to pieces by the things in the water, surely they weren't just waiting until he moved. Scratch that why was he breathing air again?

Cracking an eye open and finding the water just....gone and seeing kids scattering to the four winds he had the distinct impression they'd either won, or really, really hadn't. Although if they'd lost he wouldn't have thought he'd have lived very long and he was in far too much pain to be dead. So it was over. Somehow. Because of course it was. No need for any real reason they were just done.

He sighed, picked himself up of the ground carefully and gave himself a once over for any serious injuries. Broken arm, cracked ribs, bruises way to numerous to count and oh yeah, he'd been half drowned but aside from that he was totally fine. Apparently in better shape than one of them at least, given the mothers unconscious state. On another day in another state of mind he would be making sure she was okay but after his ordeal his self interest was at an all time high and his f---s to give were running very damn low.

Nodding at devil mans words that was one problem dealt with, now just a glaring issue. They had a dead body on their hands, in the middle of a torn up playground with no eyewitness's to say what actually happened. Not that he really believed it himself and a bottle of Scotch would certainly help push it even further into the 'that didn't really happen, right?' part of his brain

Giving the cowboy a once over the recognition finally clicked. "You alright reporting this to stormy? I would but I've got an appointment with a hangover and Doc hates being woken up so I'll definitely need it." Oh God Doc. He was going to have a field day with the Scotsman. He could already imagine the scolding tone.

"Either way I think I owe you a drink. Give me a shout the next time you see me in Inferno and I'll be happy to provide." Rather than wait for an answer he just slowly made his way to the discarded prop, painfully curled over to retrieve it and set off. After this adventure he needed enough alcohol to stun a rhino and knew just the place to get some.

The impact from the light pole sent the woman back the way she had come. When she impacted the ground she skid across the grass.Ranger dropped the light and scanned the sky. There was no way she could survive what she had just been through, this meant it was time to move to the other issue at hand.

Except the otherworldly beings faded away and the sounds of the invasion faded away. As went the woman so went what he had thought was happening. No dark fog, no beings, no war.

He really hated powers that messed with his head.

The woman dressed as a queen was down, but her daughter found her. Hot hands checked on her. She would be okay. Hot hands then lifted the woman to carry her before addressing Ranger and Artair. Ranger tipped his hat, a non verbal affirmation.

Artair must have recognized Ranger. Though they had never actually met, it wasn’t a secret who ran Haven’s security. ”I can let him know.” Ranger replied, he had no problem passing on the events of that night to Tempest . To Artair’s comment about him owing Ranger a drink Ranger said, ”I’ll hold y’ t’ that.”

That left just Ranger at the scene. Him and the dead girl. He looked at the body for a brief moment. He’d guaranteed her death because in his mind she was an immediate threat that had to be quickly addressed before he could move on to a greater threat. It turned out there was no greater threat, he could have found some solution that didn’t warrant killing her.

In his military days the rules of engagement were governed by how it appeared to you at the time not how it actually was. In civilian life the rules of self defense are generally the same. Knowing that he acted appropriately for the situation didn’t make killing a young woman like that sit right with him. There was nothing that could be done now.

Ranger turned to leave. He pulled out his cell phone and called Noel . He was late, but on his way. And he had one hell of a story.