The Evasion

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The Evasion 

The next day Carrie stood…hovered before her uncle Vladimir’s place. Sure, she should be in school right now, as it was a weekday, but current circumstances were dire and to her were more important than school attendance. Besides, personally, Carrie wasn't too broken up about skipping school for this. She'd never been the type to overly pay heed to rules, especially not if there's more important things to be concerned about. Like the most evil of demons finally resurfacing after a thousand years yet again to wreak havoc, her friend Gumball directly in the middle of it.

What did give Carrie misgivings however was whether or not she could convince her uncle to help.

The van her uncle resides in was parked at the bottom floor of the rather expansive parking garage of Elmore Mall, though this floor was rather unkempt and derelict, the ceiling lights flickering ominously from disrepair. The van’s very appearance itself didn't really instill a sense of calm either, being rust red and decorated with graffiti. But Carrie was unperturbed. Not only because she had a rather important task to complete, but she was a freaking ghost. She saw creepier things than this before breakfast. Or that would be the case if she could actually eat anything without possessing someone.

Whatever! The fact is she wasn't scared.

Gliding forward, Carrie phased through the side door of the van. The interior wasn't something one would expect to find in a motorized vehicle. There were no windows, seatbelts, or seats; if there was anything like that they were probably located where the vehicle was driven from, but that area was not visible from here, mainly because of the layout. There were multiple shelves set up, containing bizarre objects and trinkets, as well as multiple books. The place was not illuminated with a usual ceiling light either, but was instead illuminated by several dim candles, giving the place a foreboding feel. And to top it off (to quote a famous British sci-fi series) the van also appeared bigger on the inside than on the outside. 

“Vlad?” Carrie called out, “Uncle Vladimir?”

“Didn't your mother ever tell you it's impolite to enter someone's domicile without knocking?” said a gruff, baritone voice. “And what have I told you about just phasing through my door, dear niece?”

Turning to the source of the voice, Carrie beheld a set of slightly parted crimson curtains, two creeping, squinty eyes lurking in the shadows behind them. With a deep breath, Carrie floated over and hovered before the curtains. “Forgive me for my intrusion uncle, but I need your help.”

“Ah, I see,” said Vladimir as he observed Carrie from the shadows. “So, what can your dear old uncle do for you, my precious little niece?”

Carrie couldn't suppress a tremor of disgust. She disliked her uncle for a multitude of reasons, but none more so than the way he taunted her with his feigned familiar concern.

“I need the Moonbeam Ink,” she spat out her request before she gagged on it.

The eyes of Vladimir widened in surprise and shock. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. “You know that particular item is not for sale, Carrie, and even if it was, you wouldn't be able to afford it with a poultry child's allowance.”

“Yes, I understand the value and rarity of Moonbeam Ink, uncle,” said Carrie, resignation in her voice, but also hoping that she could reason with her uncle. “But I don't have any other options but to ask you for it. It's the only thing that can help with the coming crisis.”

“Coming crisis?” Vladimir inquired. 

“Yes. Elmore is on the brink of disaster, and the Moonbeam Ink is the only solution,” said Carrie.

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