"Ivy, hey Poison Ivy, come on, wake up. Oh, don't turn sleeping beauty on me, Ivy." A voice called to Sam from the darkness, she struggled to answer the familiar voice and slowly fading into existence was a very familiar sight.
"There you go. See? Not so hard," Zoey laughed. She looked exactly like how Sam remembered her. Same stick-straight black hair.
"You're dead." It was the first thing to cross Sam's lips. It was all she could think of.
"So they keep telling me, Ivy. But how 'bout you tell me how you're doing, really? I heard you quit casting," Zoey said, quirking an eyebrow and crossing her arms.
"I did." Two-word sentences were all Sam could manage. She was just too shocked for anything more than that.
"Aw, Ivy, turning your back on our destiny? Why? Because I died doing what needed to be done?"
Sam couldn't meet Zoey's eyes. It was then, as she looked away, that she realized where they were. The smell of sea salt wafted through her nose, and she could hear the sound of crying seagulls.
"The sea wall, Zoey?" Sam looked up at Zoey only to see her sitting next to her, with a disapproving look.
"Ivy, it was my time, you can't turn your back on our destiny, your destiny just because I'm not there anymore," Zoey explained, gently placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"You didn't need to die, Zoey. The Circle Five has been broken, shattered. How can we still have a destiny if we are not together to achieve it?" Sam's eyes stung with tears. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face Zoey yet, if this was the real Zoey, that is.
"Ivy, read the book, what does it say in the prophecy of the Circle Five coven? I'll tell you what it doesn't say, it doesn't say that we all had to be alive to see her come. We just open the way. I've seen, Ivy. I have seen the way things need to be and this is it." Zoey gave a lopsided smile ad just shrugged. "'Sides, me being dead ain't so bad. I might even get to become a guardian! I wouldn't be yours of course; I'd be a new witch's guardian, someone who needs my guidance more than you."
"But I do need you, Zoey. I don't understand, why did you give the Grimoire and your artifact to me, why not send the artifact back to its resting place?" Sam sobbed. The lump in her throat was becoming too much to bear. It was too hard to hear her sister's voice. A voice she may not ever hear again.
"Because you're going to need it. You'll figure it out." Zoey stood up and gave Sam a motherly pat on the head. "Oh, one last tip - ok two – one: don't blame yourself, alright? It was my doing. You couldn't have changed it; it was my fate. Two: Don't give up your gifts, sister. Don't forget your belt satchel or your artifacts."
Sam sighed and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"I'll come to see you later when you're really ready to talk, 'kay? See ya, Ivy."
Zoey slowly faded away, along with the world around her. All she left behind was the echo of Sam's magickal name.
"Zoey! Sister!" Sam cried into the impending darkness.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam shot up from her pillow, gasping for air. Her breathing was quick and shallow, and her nightshirt was plastered to her torso with cold sweat.
Her artifact, a silver pocket watch on a silver chain, felt like a world of weight hanging from her neck. The sound of its second hand pounded in her ear.
Sam heard a gentle "meow" from Nyx by her side. She smiled and gently scratched the cat's head.
"It's okay, Nyx," Sam assured. Her throat felt dry and scratchy. "It's okay."
She looked at her bedside clock. It was 2:14 in the morning. Sam was a natural night owl; being awake at such an ungodly hour was hardly jarring.
Sleep was hopeless and, honestly, she wouldn't accept it right now after that dream.
Don't forget your belt satchel...
Sam stumbled out of bed and went to her duffle bag. After relentless digging, she pulled out a belt with a small leather satchel attached to it.
She sat with her back to her new bed and opened the satchel's lid. Inside she found small glass vials and bottles, all of them filled with different colored liquid, potions Barbra had apparently packed before they had parted ways. Sam took some out and held them up to the light.
A note fell out of the satchel, set loose by the removal of the bottles.
"Dear Ivy,
Couldn't let you go unprotected, could I? Just some basic protection-shield potions and ones designed to sap an enemy's energy. There are also one or two anti-ecto potions and a pouch of blood blossom seeds. You may need them; the research I did said there are a lot of ghosts there, the anti-ecto should help clean your clothes, and the Blood Blossoms make for very good anti-ghost remedies. The recipes are in the book, just in case.
Love you,
Batgirl.
Her large room felt too confining all of a sudden.
Sam grabbed a pair of dark green jeans, a dark purple sweater and her favorite pair of black joggers. She changed into her clothes quickly before putting on the belt-satchel and clipping the compass to one of her jeans' belt loops.
She gave her Circle of Five jacket a sorrowful look. It was too soon to even think about putting it on; she grabbed a black leather trench coat instead. She climbed out the window before shutting it very carefully from the outside and began her descent.
Sam thanked all the earth spirits and deities she knew for the ivy ridden latticework that covered the entire wall that she was now using to climb down. The moment Sam's feet hit the ground, she recognized the feeling. It was a pull; the natural instinct that all witches had to prepare for any paranormal and, in some cases, demonic attacks.
There was something odd about this pull, however. It was like it was calling specifically to her. The wind whispered in her ear, telling her she was fated to see what was causing the pull. Her feet started to move of their own accord.
She walked for a good ten minutes before she realized she had gone further than just down the road. Sam's eyes scanned the darkened sky when she noticed that bright flashes of light were flickering just beyond the tree line in the park.
"Damn." Sam shook her head, knowing that was exactly where the ruckus was coming from. She tried to tell herself to stay away and not get involved, but her witch's instinct to deal with the supernatural was too strong. It was a pull so powerful that she had no choice but to comply.
Alright! Alright, I can't fight it. I'll go check it out. But that's it! I'm still not casting anymore.
Sam's pace sped up and she stepped through the trees to see two battling figures fighting fifteen meters above the ground.
The fight was fast-paced. The smaller of the two was a white-haired youth, dressed in a black jumpsuit. His opponent was larger and reminded Sam of a bodybuilder with white skin and wispy green hair. His body seemed to be made out of metal.
The fight finished within moments of her arrival when the smaller white-haired fighter sucked the metal specter into what appeared, to Sam at least, to be a soup thermos. The remaining fighter fell slowly to the ground. Controlled, Sam realized, just like Barbra when she got her powers of levitation, not as powerful or consistent as that of the fighter's but still...
"He can fly," Sam spoke in a whisper, but the cold night air magnified her voice just enough to alert him to her presence. Sam doubted if he heard her exact words but he stood for a moment like a deer caught in headlights before he floated over to her. A foot off the ground, he moved slowly, cautiously, like he expected her to start screaming.
"U-uh, hi?" His voice echoed slightly - he sounded unsure as if he was still expecting the run and scream routine. Now that he was closer, Sam could see that he looked like a teenager, about seventeen, her age. Now that he right in front of her, he was kind of cute. In a spectral way. His messy snow-white hair flopped over bright neon green eyes. He had a lean build to him that she could easily admire when he wore that jumpsuit.
Not that I want to...he's still a ghost. He could be troublesome for all I know.
"Um, you shouldn't be out by yourself at night, 'specially around here - there are ghosts, you know," he lectured.
Sam had to refrain from rolling her eyes. "By definition, Sir, I'm not alone at the moment. Further, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you a ghost?"
Sam mentally hit herself, she knew better than to be rude to supernatural beings. However, she could have sworn the corner of his mouth had turned up like he was amused, but was trying to hide it.
The ghost groaned in exasperation. "Yes, I'm a ghost. Would you like to run screaming in the other direction now?"
She gave him a smirk. "Let's just say I don't scare easily, ghost boy."
Her sisters had told her that her tongue would probably be the death of her. Right now she believed it. Time seemed to stretch. At first, he looked shocked. It was like he was trying to figure out why this foolish human was being so reckless. But his next actions surprised her the most.
He started laughing. He laughed so hard she doubted he knew he was floating higher and higher, in all her years as a witch she'd never seen a ghost laugh. He was an odd bird.
"You've either got a hell of a lotta guts or you really have no clue how dangerous the ghosts in this town, including me, are." His laugh subsided into quiet chuckles and he lowered himself once more, this time letting his feet make contact with the ground beneath. She could now see that he was a good head taller than her.
"Or...I just don't care." Sam knew she was in trouble the second he smirked. She was doomed. She knew and she didn't even need to see the future like Barbra.
"So no one warned you about me, hmm? Well, that's just a tad insulting. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Phantom, the most feared and dangerous ghost in Amity Park. Might I inquire as to the lady's name?" Phantom performed a mock bow to Sam.
"Request denied," Sam knew she was walking a very fine line. She had no idea what kind of being this ghost was, but it was strange that he was supposed to be the most dangerous ghost in Amity Park, and yet he made her feel safe. Somehow, he felt familiar, like an old friend she could say anything around him and not get in trouble for it.
"Denied, huh? I think I can fix that." Before Sam could even blink he had ensnared her by the waist and pulled her to him, turning her as she went so he ended up behind her. A small gasp escaped Sam's lips as she felt her feet leave the ground. She clung to his being. The wind tugged her hair gently as Phantom carried her higher up into the sky.
"How about now?" Phantom's voice was laced with amusement. Sam grabbed hold of him, digging her short nails into his shoulders as hard as she could.
"Put me down. Now." Sam hissed at him through clenched teeth. Phantom laughed quietly.
"What's the matter... you're not scared now, are you?" Sam tightened her grip on his shoulder; she was getting annoyed at this arrogant ghost.
"Hardly, where are we going?" Sam had noticed the ground beneath them had not only been getting further away, but it was also changing.
"You're very perceptive, I'm just taking you for a short flight. Feel like answering my question now?"
"Sam. My name is Sam, are you satisfied? Will you put me down already?" Sam was beginning to feel light-headed; she hoped it was just from being up so high.
"Sure, we're here now." Sam blinked in surprise. Phantom had flown her back to her Gramm's house.
"You already knew exactly who I was, didn't you?" Cold pins and needles flowed over her body as Phantom phased them both through her bedroom window.
"It's my town. I like to know the new faces, especially ones as pretty as yours." Phantom flirted as he placed her gently on her floor. Sam, with pink cheeks, spun around to face him, but he had already phased back outside. He floated just outside her window, smirking at her. She walked over to the window and opened it, leaning out slightly.
"Jerk." Sam blew a raspberry at him before pulling herself back in. She slammed the window shut, followed by the curtains.
She could still hear him laughing quietly as he flew away. Sam shook her head as she got ready to go back to bed.
"A ghost with a sense of humor, just my luck."