full moon - agatha all along

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗶.

chapter ii
" bad is good "

MAEVE

The air inside the closet is suffocating. Yes, closet. She locked me in a fricking closet. A closet under a staircase. Don't get me wrong, no hate towards Harry Potter, but let's not do that, okay? What is it with witches and closets under the staircase, anyway?

I can barely move in here, the so-called room is closing in. So, Agatha has Billy in the living room interrogating him, or whatever she is doing in that daydreaming world she is living in.

Pressing my ear against the door, I try to make out every word to know at least what we are dealing with. He isn't going to get the spell right, I'm sure of it. I'm going to die in a closet next to rain boots and a broomstick. All because of his clumsy ass.

"What compelled you to break into the home of a decorated detective?" Agatha questions, her voice echoing throughout the house walls. I never thought that I would hear Agatha and detective in the same sentence. Please, Billy, don't fuck this up. My palms are already sweaty from the adrenaline rush and the rope is making everything worse.

The tape was easy enough to take off, but the rope is torture. If there was a spell I could cast, I would without a care in the world.

"Detective? That's not what I was expecting but I can totally see that for you." Billy says casually, yet I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. Don't antagonise her, you moron. I swear, when I get out of here, he is dead.

I twist around searching for anything that can help me out. A pair of scissors? Something sharp? No, who has such things in their closet? As it looks like, psychos do! You know what? I can do it. Forget the scissors, I won't die in a dusty closet that hasn't been cleaned since the 1950s. I can do this. I shifted onto my knees the best way I could, the rope around both my hands and feet getting itchy.

I stand up and fortunately avoid falling into the mop bucket. I carefully open the closet door and look down the hallway. I can hear my own breath echoing through the hall. Each creak feels like it's exposing me. Another day, another 'save Billy from being stupid as hell'.

"Wait, did you just hear what I said?"

Oh, my days. There is no turning back now. I start bouncing-yes, like a bunny up and down-down the hall, with each hop, every last part of decency left in me slipping away, poof, just like that. By then, Agatha had started to realise that something indeed isn't adding up. Her eyes are lost, looking around the room as if it were falling apart.

I start jumping up and down again when I notice Billy and, not noticing the staircase, I trip down. Billy turns around to look at me, a mix of confusion and horror written all over his face. Agatha's head turned to me, forming even more questions to her already baffled mind.

"Cast- Cast the spell," I hiss, spinning and turning as I try to get back up again. Why would anyone even have ropes in their house?

Billy blinks, the message-finally-reaching his brain. With shaky hands, he pulled out his small spellbook and Agatha's necklace. I might have made fun of his little annotations, but they might come in handy right now.

"Exsolve hanc feminam defixam. Exsolve hanc feminam defixam. Meo carmine exsolve hanc feminam defixam. Exsolve hanc feminam defixam. . ."

Agatha though doesn't seem to understand that we are just trying to break the spell she is under. Instead, she looks at us like we are about to kill her and her whole family. She grabs the duck tape from the table and uses her teeth to cut a piece. The duct tape is the least of our problems, I just hope she doesn't silence us for good. Billy keeps on casting the spell, in hopes that it will free her before she shoves us back into the closet.

-

Okay, don't get me wrong. I'm all 'women!' and stuff, but can we please stop with the ex-wives' angst? Billy and I have been in this closet for around six hours and when Agatha finally breaks the spell, an ex-situationship appears. We got front-row seats to the fight, though. Honestly, some things about Agatha make sense now.

Billy has been whimpering like a puppy since the fight ended, worrying that Agatha will forget that she shoved us in her closet. I mean, we are, indeed, in the closet.

"Oh, right, you two," Agatha muttered, looking as up and down like we are intruding. I mean, we were intruders yesterday, she is the one that locked two teenagers in her closet for a whole night. That's a reason to call the police. The real police, thank you very much. And yes, I'm still mad at Billy's ass for dragging us into this mess.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Short chapter today but I'm definitely going to update tomorrow soooo... it's a win/win. I hope you like this chapter! Let me know if you prefer third pov rather than Maeve's pov. I was thinking of changing pov whenever needed, but I think Maeve's pov is going to be the main one. What do y'all think?