It was a dark night. The air was still and thick. The Spanish moss that usually swayed in the breeze hung loose in the trees. It was as if the wind had gone into hiding that night, waiting out the foreboding events that were soon to come. Even the moon herself was seldom seen.
High above the darkened skyline of New Orleans, atop a large building, a battle of epic proportions was underway.
A pair of daemon brothers of monumental power were locked in an age-old battle for ownership of the Earth. The daemons were not just massive in power but also in height. They both stood at 8 feet. Their actual appearance was undetermined, for in their incomplete state they stood as two giant intimidating figures. Their soul-piercing yellow eyes were the only features to have manifested.
But it wasn't each other they were fighting.
Their opponents, oddly enough, were five young girls. Very young, they all looked to be no older than 18. One of them, dressed in a light blue cloak, was already bruised and bleeding. The girls stood evenly spaced around the demons at the points of a pentacle hastily marked on the ground in white chalk. Light blue, yellow gold, cherry red, dark obsidian, and deep green and purple, the girls, battered, bruised and exhausted from the battle, held tightly to crystals, whose colors and magick intertwined with their users.
In unison, they sang their spell, their voices finely tuned and synced as the keys on a xylophone:
"Daemons dark from shadow dwell,
Chaotic forces we wish to quell,
To rid the Earth of your sick unwell,
We cast you Daemons Back to Hell."
They intoned the first verse together, then they spoke one by one. The girl dressed in gold sung first.
"For all the creatures of the night,
And the birds who trade in flight,
Your darkness we now quell,
We cast you daemons back to hell."
The first crystal glowed with a golden light, like that of the sun. Next, the girl dressed in obsidian chanted.
"For the creatures of the fur and creatures of the fin
We doom you daemons now within your mortal skin,
Your evil we now quell,
We cast you daemons back to hell."
The second crystal began to glow with a dark black and silver light. After her, came the one dressed in blue.
"For all the magic of the light,
We here refuse to give up the fight,
Your horror we now quell,
We cast you daemons back to hell."
The third crystal lit with a sky blue light. Almost instantly, the girl dressed in bright scarlet sung out.
"For the survival of our kind,
Your powers we now bind,
Your madness we now quell,
We cast you daemons back to hell."
The fourth crystal shone with a red glow. And finally, like her sisters before her, the girl dressed in dark purple and green sung in her mezzo-soprano voice.
"For the life of the land,
From this world, you now are banned,
Your perversions we now quell,
We cast you daemons back to hell."
The fifth and final crystal shone with dark green and purple light and the girls began to chant in sync once more, their voices rising with each line trying to be heard against the growing thunder that rumbled and roared in the skies.
"Daemons dark from shadows dwell,
Chaotic forces we wish to quell,
To rid the Earth of your sick unwell,
WE CAST YOU DAEMONS BACK TO HELL!"
The light from the five crystals raced out to join each other in a series of lines, a five-pointed star. The lines copied the pentacle beneath them and light shot forth once more, arcing up into the sky and meeting high above the daemons. The beasts were now trapped in a cage of pure light.
The light grew brighter and brighter, closing in around the daemons until the light beams had become a blinding pentacle. One by one, the brave young women fell to their knees as their energy drained into the binding spell's power. The pentacle's brightness lit up the surrounding area as if night had turned into day before it exploded outward sending waves of concussive force across the sky, totally obliterating the daemons. The sky faded once more to inky black, thunder rumbled in across the sky, bringing a shower of rain with it.
Every one the girls fell, losing complete consciousness.
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"I agree that she shouldn't stay here, but... Mother, you have trouble looking after yourself as it is and I hear there's a lot of hooligans around. I really don't think Amity Park is the best place for Samantha right now," said a concerned male voice.
"Oh, pish-posh! Sam and I can take care of ourselves. Besides, I have some nice young people who love to help me out and they'd be good for Sam. They're about her age and they go to the local high school, so they could help her ease in," an elderly voice said confidently.
"Maybe it would be best if she went with your mother, dear. I mean, it's a small town and there probably won't be any of these hard-core gang types like those animals that did this to the girls."
Sam's mind told her she could hear - she knew she was definitely hearing, but the words, the words made no sense to her. Zoey...Zoey would know what they were talking about; Zoey always knew. There was something else she heard. Purring, very familiar purring. Nyx...?
"Z- Zo- Zoey?" It felt like she had a giant rock stuck in her throat. That wasn't right, why did it hurt to speak?
"Sammy-kins, oh baby, are you finally awake? Please speak to me, speak to mommy."
Mommy? What was she talking about? Where was Zoey? Why didn't she answer?
"Zoey?" Sam tried again; her speech was less staggered this time, but it still hurt to talk.
"No, sweetie, it's Mom and Dad... and your grandma."
Mom? Dad? They were here, but where was Zoey?
"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Manson?" A new voice spoke. She knew that voice.
"Barbra?" Sam called for her friend. She heard wheels on vinyl. That was not right, either; that was not Barbra's walk.
"Sam?" Barbra's voice spoke close to her ear. "Sam, will you please open your eyes and look at me, I have to tell you something. It's important; it's about Zoey."
Open her eyes? Of course, they were shut; that's why there was darkness everywhere. Sam's eyes slid open slowly. At first, her eyes burned at the blinding fluorescent lights above her. Her head was pounding and she felt a little queasy. She groaned as she clutched her forehead to ease the pain. On her fingers, she then felt something that felt wet sandpaper gently grazing her knuckles. When her eyes adjusted, she looked to her side and saw a cat with long black fur and deep, intelligent green eyes. It was her familiar (unbeknownst to her mother and father), Nyx. Sam smiled and weakly stroked her loyal companion's fur.
Now fully conscious, Sam was able to observe her surroundings. She was laying in a hospital. White walls, white sheets, etc. She saw a black letterman's jacket, decorated with patches, symbols, as well as buttons and ribbons that ranged in shades of green and purple. On the back was an embroidered symbol of the number five, encased in a circle. It was her Circle Five jacket. All of the girls had one; the colors personalized for each of them, of course. She looked to her left and saw her mother, her father, dressed in their usual 50's pin-up country club clothes, and her grandma, wearing one of her typical sweaters and large fishbowl glasses. They all looked incredibly relieved to see her awake and alive.
And to her right, was Barbra, whose blue eyes were bloodshot, her auburn hair tousled. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks. But that wasn't what caught Sam's eyes.
"Barb?" Sam tried to sit up slowly but she found she lacked the strength.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Barbra's eyes glistened with fresh tears, "Zoey didn't make it."
"The others?" Sam hardly dared to ask; she knew the cost might be high, but this...
"Selene has total amnesia. Hayley is a basket of nerves, she was out for three days, and..." Barbra trailed off. The tears were leaving tracks down her cheeks.
"Barb? Barbra, why are you in a wheelchair?" Sam had managed to roll onto her side and now she could see what it was that was wrong. "Barb, how long have I been out?"
"Three weeks, Sam. You've been out for three weeks."
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Two days after Sam had woken up in the hospital, she had been allowed to leave.
She and Barbra had walked, or in Barbra's case rolled, to the local cemetery; to the grave of their friend, their sister at heart, Zoey. Perched on top of the grave was a large, black raven, Morrigan; she was Zoey's familiar. The poor creature was probably so lost; most familiars were when they lost their masters.
Zoey had been the first one in their group of five to find her artifact, a sacred object that aided a witch in her work; she had been the keeper of The Grimoire, the first to try a spell from it. They had all cast spells from the book, but Zoey had been the first and most daring of all the girls when it came to magic. She had been the most reasonable too. She had been the driving force leading them into the many battles they have been part of, but now there was no one to bear the Compass artifact.
Zoey had died. Selene, left with amnesia, had moved away. Hayley, now scared of the smallest noise, would move away tomorrow, and tomorrow is when Sam, herself, would be gone. Barbra would be alone in New Orleans. The only comfort Sam had was that the rift that had allowed demons access to the city had closed when they had banished the Daemon lords, Balthazar and Beelzebub.
"Sam, Zoey told me before she died, if we were to separate that she wanted you to care for her artifact. Just until its next owner needs it," Barbra instructed. "She thought it might do you the most good and I agree, that you should be the new keeper of the Grimoire. You're going to need it the most - I did some research and apparently, there is a lot of paranormal activity in Amity Park, ghosts and the like mostly, so you shouldn't have to worry too much, your Grandma did say they weren't that bad."
Sam took a big gulp of air before she spoke. "Barb, I don't think I should cast anymore. Don't talk. Just listen, please. The night Zoey summoned Beelzebub and Balthazar, I... I said some things to her. I think I'm the one who made Zoey cast the summons. Her death is my fault because I can't watch my own stupid mouth. If I can get someone killed just by talking, Barb, what if I kill someone with a cast because I was careless in my wording? I don't think I should be allowed anywhere near the Grimoire." A single tear slid down Sam's cheek.
The Grimoire was a large leather spell book, chock full of information from herbs to monsters. And one very odd prophecy on the very last page.
Barbra took her friend by the hand. For a while they just stayed by Zoey's grave before Barbra spoke once more, her blue eyes cloaked in a white mist.
"You're going to need the Grimoire, Poison Ivy. You'll need it if you want to save him, your true one. He walks in two worlds and yet he belongs to neither," she said in a monotone voice. "Give him a world where he can belong - for there too can you belong. You have many battles ahead little Ivy, many things you cannot face alone. The Emperor and The High Priestess must unite to the two worlds."
Sam's purple eyes momentarily glazed with a forest green as she looked at her chair-bound friend.
"Barbra, if you can't be Batgirl anymore, who are you?"
The white vanished from Barbra's eyes and their gazes locked.
"I am Oracle now."
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From the window of her Grandma's van, Sam could see only a small portion of Amity Park, but her Gramm had said it was bigger than it looked and Sam wasn't inclined to disagree. Sam, dressed a large, dark green button-down blouse and black shorts, lazily gazed at the passing scenes of shops, office buildings, and apartments as she continued to pet and scratch Nyx's head. The said feline was quite content with lounging in her mistress' lap, loudly purring the whole drive.
The trip from the Amity Park Airport was a short one, and the two women soon reached their destination - Gramm Manson's house. It was a large house, a mansion practically, not that it surprised her. Her parents most likely paid for it, as well as the care that came with it.
On the front porch steps was a boy who looked to be Sam's age. His pitch-black hair was scruffy, his bangs unruly and flopping over his brow. He wore a red hoodie with a white shirt underneath, a simple pair of jeans and red sneakers. Seeing how hunched over he was just from sitting on a step, she could imagine he was taller than he looked.
"Oh, how lovely, Danny's waiting for me to come home," Gramm Manson said to Sam as they got out of the car. Hearing the van doors open, Danny's head shot up and he smiled. Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. She had to admit that he was quite handsome, in a dorky kind of way. His smile was sweet and friendly, and his eyes were the exact shade of the Mississippi River.
"Hey Gramm," he said as he got up and jogged over to her. "I was getting worried you were never coming back. Did you have a nice trip?" Sam's eye widened as she watched Danny happily embrace her grandmother, picking her up off the pavement.
"It was very nice, thank you, Danny. My granddaughter is awake now - in fact, she's around the other side of the car." Grammy Manson opened the back of the van and Danny automatically grabbed her bags for her. He put one down beside his feet and reached back in for another bag, a black duffle bag with an odd symbol in purple that he couldn't quite see when a hand stopped him. He looked up and for a moment he thought he was drowning in a purple eternity. And then he was jolted back to reality.
"That...," Sam hissed. "...is my bag. You do not touch it. Ever." She grabbed her bag as well as another identical bag that had been hidden behind it.
Danny put his hands up in surrender. "U-um...okay, sorry 'bout that..."
Sam gave him a short glance before heading for the front door. "C'mon, Nyx, let's get inside."
Danny raised an eyebrow, before the sound of a cat meow at his feet. He jumped and looked down to see that green-eyed creature staring up at him. He could've sworn the cat had glared at him for a split second.
But the second was over and the cat followed Sam into the house.
Danny stared after her for a minute, absolute confusion washing over him. He scratched his head before grabbing the bag from beside his feet and taking off after her. Shutting the back of the van, Grammy Manson followed at a slower pace, a smile lining her lips.
Ps. Daemons in this context refers to upper-level demons, demons refer to, well demons, as a race in general.