Le One Shot
"Madre?" The young Writing looked at her mother with her large eyes. "Are we going to our first mission?"
"Yes my child," FancySnake assured. "Did you remember your smelling salts?"
"Si."
"And your pendulum? "
"Si!"
"Okay then. Let's go before some geomancer takes the job."
The two signed up at the nearest mercenary office, Twilight Woods, and got the orders for their first trip.
"Okay then,"  the scrawny receptionist mustered out. "Your first mission is ready. The coordinates are inside the note, as is th-the objective. Good luck!"
Fancy shifted her hand to a sickly green tentacle and sliced the runes in the air, opening a portal to their destination.
Writing stumbled through, almost tripping on the hem of her dress, but landed in an over the top fashion, as per usual, and her mother jumped through, and did a spin, spawning her tentacles in the process. They headed to the house and knocked on the door, only to be greeted with a headless zombie.
"Holy shart what is that?" Writing gasped as she hid behind Fancy.
"A zombie," she responded candidly. "More exactly, a ghoul. There's a house full of them!"
"What do we do?"
"Simple. Exterminate the place."
Writing felt her stomach churn, as she wasn't the most lenient towards murder. That, and her powers weren't the most suitable for the job. Being a illusionist didn't grant you the most dangerous title, more as a person who played movies with out the DVD.
"Madre? How exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"Oh. Crap. How about you, wait, no, that's stupid, or maybe-"
"I got it! I'll just make them hallucinate that they're human!"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Just let me get the salts out." And with that, Writing pulled out her salts, in the shapes of small pearls for shooting action. She loaded her Nyarf sniper, since she wouldn't even dare use a real one, and fired at the ghouls, while her mother knocked them out for easy fire. Once done, Writing placed her pendulum on her neck, allowing her to enter the minds of others.
"Here we go," she mumbled. "You are of mankind once again. Your flesh is healthy, thine blood is flowing, and your hearts beat with the passion of ones past. Exit this home, and never return!"
The spell was seemingly so convincing that even Fancy almost saw life in their eyes. The ghouls filed out of every door they could, leaving the two mercenaries. Writing passed out, with Fancy catching her just in time.
She carried her daughter all the way home, and lowered her on the couch. She kissed her forehead, and whispered in her ear,
"There's my little illusionist."
Fin