everlong| hocus pocus

020. moths

     JUST IN TIME, THE CAR screeched to a halt at the old Burial Hill cemetery. They would be safe here. For now. "Hurry! Hurry!" Binx's voice pierced the night, dripping with urgency as shadows danced menacingly around them. Dani shoved the creaky gate open, the rusted hinges groaning in protest, her heart pounding like a war drum as the others surged through. Jasper and Dani were so frantic they barely noticed their old friend Billy lurking in the gloom, but Max did. He collided with Billy, stumbling back into the chilling embrace of the concrete.
"Max!" Dani rasped, eyes wide with terror. In the chaos, Max's pocket knife flicked open, its cold steel glinting ominously in the faint light, momentarily steadying Jasper's racing heart.
"Go!" Max urged, his voice a desperate growl, the weight of dread suffocating them all. For once, Jasper listened, a knot of fear tightening in her chest.
"Dani, come on, we have to go." Jasper insisted, gripping Dani's arm as if it were a lifeline, spinning her around before racing into the darkness with Max's command echoing in her ears. Scanning the ground for anything to defend themselves, Jasper spotted a hefty stick and thrust it into Dani's trembling hands. Dani's eyes widened at its weight, a nervous laugh escaping them—a fragile flicker of hope amidst the encroaching terror. With Binx at their side, they crouched low, muscles coiled and ready to strike.
Max returned to the cemetery, Billy trailing uncertainly behind him, his undead form flickering in and out of the shadows. Jasper and Dani sprang up, their makeshift weapons raised in a protective stance, charging at Billy, who cowered beneath their fierce glare. "Wait! No! No! He's a good zombie!" Max interjected, stepping protectively in front of Billy. The girls hesitated, their weapons lowering as they exchanged uncertain glances. Billy, for all his undead quirks, looked more lost than threatening, but the air around them crackled with an unspoken danger.
"Come on," Max urged, urgency fueling his movements as he set off with Jasper by his side. Dani lingered, trying to engage Billy.
"Come then. We'll have to hold them out till dawn. It's our only hope." Binx explained, his tone grave and foreboding. The weight of their predicament pressed down on them like a shroud. If this went south, everything Jasper held dear could be swallowed by the power of the witches.
Max tore off his jacket, rummaging through the bag he and Jasper had hastily prepared before retrieving Dani. He handed the salt to Jasper, the coarse granules a stark reminder of their grim task, while he pulled out his bat, a weapon now infused with dread.
Jasper watches Billy carefully gently placing Dani into his dug-up grave. "You okay, Dani?" She asked, her voice softening as she glanced at the small girl, who was shaking like a leaf.
"Yeah, fine." Dani was indeed not fine; the tremor in her voice betrayed her growing panic.
     Billy and Jasper shared a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they poured a ring of salt around Dani's makeshift grave, forming a barrier against the witches' malevolent grasp. The closer she was to the ground, the safer she would be—if only for a moment.
"Jasper?" Dani began, mustering a fragile smile that felt more like a mask. Jasper's heart swelled with warmth, but it was quickly overshadowed by dread. "Thanks for helping me and my brother. We really appreciate it." Jasper had never felt such fierce protectiveness over anyone before. Dani was different—innocent and vulnerable in a world gone mad.
"Anytime, mini Dennison." Jasper casually replied, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on Dani's forehead. The little girl's face brightened momentarily, pulling Jasper into a tight hug, reaching from her grave with desperation. In her enthusiasm, she nearly tumbled into the hole alongside her.
Jasper had never truly known fear. Sure, there were the jitters that came with roller coasters or the anxiety of arriving home late past curfew, but this was different. This was raw and visceral, a bone-deep terror that whispered promises of doom.
Max practiced swinging his bat farther away from the group, pouring every ounce of his pent-up teenage fury into each swing, the night air thick with the scent of impending doom. With every arc of the bat, they could only hope he wouldn't miss.