A couple of minutes before.

Blathnaid

My heavy eyelids lift inside the medical room. I went from a hospital one day to a medical room at home the next. Rick is beside me, watching my vitals. A neck posture corrector is placed around my neck. My neck feels sore while inside my throat feels like it got crushed by a boulder. When Ivelisse squeezed my throat shut, no air was being inhaled or exhaled. I can feel myself drifting away as I suffocate. Thankfully, Naomi saved me at the last second. I wished she should've done it the moment I started being choked to decrease the chances of long-lasting damages, but I can excuse her because she does have abilities that no one else has. I think the coven wouldn't mind it though. Stuff like that amazes them.

I look around the room. Ivelisse wasn't in the room, but Markus was in the corner of the medical room.

"Blathnaid, open wide for me," Rick commands while he turns on a light. I do what he says as he examines the inside of my mouth.

"Your tongue is a little discolored," he told me before examining my eyes, "And your eyes are puffy and bloodshot." He checks my temperature with a head scanner. "Still got a fever."

Well, no shit, My mind says what I can't.

"Sit up for me, please." I obey and he removes my neck adjuster for a moment. He gently put his hand around my throat. He tells me to swallow. I do and experience some difficulty. Ow.

"Can ya speak for me, please?"

"I...Can...Try-" I speak roughly. My voice is hoarse and it's hard to speak because it hurt like hell. The pain almost made me whimper. He is going to keep an eye on me for a little while longer.

I look at Markus. "What are you doing here" I mouth, refusing to speak.

"Avoiding trouble." He does the same in return.

"How bad is your paralysis?"

"I am paralyzed from the neck down."

"I saw you move without her before," I exclaim.

"Nao told you what happened a decade ago, so it's no use hiding it from you," he mouths while rolling his eyes. He looks paranoid and annoyed concurrently.

"Why did you do all those things?"

"I was lost in my sick thoughts of seeing my asshole of a mother dead and to those who made my life a fucked up circus." He does have that sour expression across his face, hating to talk about it.

"What did Naomi do to you?"

He doesn't answer, he blankly stares.

"What made you come after Naomi? Was it because she is your niece?" I rephrase.

"I actually didn't know Naomi until after my powers were decreased to nothing, but a hot steel plate. My vision was as if another consciousness took hold during the time I killed my family. I was already doing my and its bidding until it decided to fully take over."

The words I never have thought to hear in my life.

Looks like one side of Naomi's family is more than dysfunctional; it is atomically messed up. I never met her uncle, but I could've witnessed his abilities. Our house was destroyed by a pyroclastic cloud from a volcano that erupted in London. We were walking around, away from his total destruction. It made us temporarily homeless and we were placed to live in an apartment for a while. Geologists say that it's a weak spot in the crust. He said his powers were reduced, so could he be capable of causing that mess?! Good Heavens, me! So Naomi had to deal with an uncle that is capable of ripping the damn planet open?! He did this all because he was sick of the agony?! I can see why Naomi kept this mostly private. If this happens to me, it will be impossible for me to face it.

"How did you-" I pause, remembering what Naomi told me years ago that he used spells from books written by the supernatural. Human and inhuman spells work, depending on the intensity and focus of the spell. Spells created by the beings above are going to be stronger than humans.

"So is that why you are- in a wheelchair?" I ask.

"I was punished. My powers were taken and I'm crippled," he explains.

"What are your intentions now?"

I kind of feel sorry and stupid for asking him so many questions. He does look annoyed right now, but he doesn't want to throw a big show in front of Rick. He stares at me while he is trying to shrug his shoulders. He doesn't know.

"What would you do if you got a second chance?"

"You know, Blath, I don't know. I just want to be able to stand again and not be babied for the remainder of my life because I have done bizarre shit. I might have deserved it! Who knows?! The burdening wrath could still be in the back of my head, waiting to feel the call to return. To take over. To control. Better pray to God that it doesn't. If it does, all I can tell you is to just run like your life depends on it because it actually does!" He warns with a stern face. He then sighs heavily.

"What are you guys doing?" Rick asks, catching onto us after Markus's long sigh.

"Developing communication," Markus quickly replies sarcastically.

"Yeah it's called one of the ways that deaf people communicate- Reading lips," Rick fires back, also sarcastic. "I can tell that it was a rough one due to your grim faces."

"Blathnaid wanted to get to know me since I am her best friend's uncle," he smirks.

Well, that is true in a way.

"Really? Their best friends don't usually meet their friend's uncles," Rick implies.

"Of course, if you want to get to know your friends more, it's best to run a background check on their family," he jokes.

My mouth drops slightly. I am a bit surprised by what he said. I am not denying that what I was conversing with him was related; the mood in the room is now lighter. Rick softly chuckles.

"Find her!" I hear Ella commanding outside. We grow stiff and worry again, except for Markus. Looks like Ivelisse has been taken over by something again. The intervals between times of possession and consciousness are getting very slim. I am nervous that one day Ivelisse will never wake up. If she had a chance to tell us what's happening to her in the first place, we could've gotten to the bottom of this much quicker or she'll be able to fight back. Now she's depleted and becoming a perfect vessel.

A roar shakes the house, startling Rick and I.

"I am getting sick of this," Rick fusses.

"For me, it's just another usual household," Markus morose.

"Pardon?" Rick replies dumbfoundedly.

"Your house is not the only one that's haunted. There's a ghost of a mother in mine. While Nao takes care of me, the ghost reads me bedtime stories..." He tells him with a smile, but the disdainful tone betrays it, "Her father is also a ghost too. Indeed, it does get pretty damn annoying."

"More annoying and dangerous if the ghost wants to kill ya."

The house continues to tremble with the lights flickering. I moan in distress because my eyes are sensitive to the light at the moment. The flickering makes it more uneasy.

A cat hissing sound emerges. It transforms into a loud roar. It booms around the house as if it bounces off the walls. I don't suppress the whine. It's hard for me to withstand it, along with my injury now.

"Rick!" I hear Ella screaming. Rick quickly got up and ran out the door, ready to tend to what was happening.

Markus and I hear an argument ensue, but it's muffled by the walls between us. I want to hear what was going on, but I don't want to at the same time.

Rick made the right choice in that he took care of Ivelisse in her own room. It would be alarming if that woman was in the room with us. Let her possession happen elsewhere for now, please. Better yet, not at all.

My throat feels better than hours ago. The medical room wrestles with silence. The furnace is fuming loudly. I learn to tolerate it, but I feel awkward as I watch for Markus trying to nap or avoid looking at me.

Feeling brave and possibly stupid, I try to speak, "The weather is awfully goo-Ow..." Pain hits at the end of my sentence. My voice is still hoarse, but not as bad as earlier.

Markus brows furrow at me. "Girl, have you taken a look outside? It's a complete whiteout!" He comments while his eyes gesturing towards the window. I only see white outside from the snow blowing around in a blizzard.

"I know..." I try to reply, "I...was...trying...to speak."

"Don't talk," he remarks, "You sound like a cigarette swallowed you."

"What? Have...you...been...choked...out before?" I retort in a slight defense.

Markus goes silent again, offended.

Aw, feck! I could've accidentally triggered him.

"Sorry," I apologize remorsefully, "I-I didn't know-"

"It's fine..." He replies, still offended and...hurt.

"Do you wanna...talk about it?" I offer, "You seem...that you never brought...up your past."

He raises his head and glares at me, not threateningly, but rather distrustfully.

"It's just you and me...It's now or never... No one in the coven is going to know, but remember you got Nao and I. I won't judge, nor say anything against you," My voice begins to improve the more I talk as long I take a break and breathe. I feel out of breath every couple of seconds.

Markus takes a long breath and pauses. He used his powers to push towards me, so we can get a little private. He spoke in riddles. He didn't fully let out the suspects of his pain, but I see the trauma he went through. They were all over him to exploit, to destroy, and to fulfill their evil desires. He thought everything would be better if their lives were cut short. It didn't. He grew sicker and sicker as his thoughts had more control than he did. The ritual he has done mutated those thoughts awoke into another being that he had to fight. Alas, he finally was about to regain control when his abilities were revoked, but he was punished into the horrors returning into his head while paralyzed for eternity.

Even when he's paralyzed, I can still see him shaking and on the verge of a panic attack. I fight back the urge of hugging him out of sympathy, but I am afraid it will make it worse. When those thoughts are buried and he is in control, he is still his own torture long after his perpetrators' deaths.

"Question, how did you find the ritual?" I ask, curious, "If you feel comfortable."

"A forgotten old man, who once exploded, told me," he replies quickly.

The heck? I went back into my memories when an old man visited my house when Naomi came and he knocked me out. He also wanted to turn Naomi. "Terri?" I murmur from thought.

"How did you know?" Markus asks, hearing me.

"He visited Naomi and I." I answered, "He turned her too."

The room started to feel hotter than normal. The furnace is running at a normal pace. I wince back at Markus. He is in a panic attack. He is panting heavily. He looks like he wants to get out of here.

"Markus, breathe," I tell him in a soft voice.

He sharply inhales, but he ignores my other suggestion.

"Markus, focus on your breathing," I urge him.

He still inhales deeply, but not hyperventilating. The heat around me is causing me to sweat. Any hotter and I will have a heat stroke.

"Breathe in for three, hold for seven, out for four," I instruct.

I have had very high anxiety since my young years; therefore, I had to look up how to calm myself down because my parents' response made my anxiety attacks worse. They didn't know what to do. They either panicked, assumed something terribly wrong with me, or got annoyed. I bought candles, in order to keep my room smelling good to lessen the anxiety.

I got up from my bed and lit the candles on Rick's office desk, hoping the sweet smell and relaxing lighting will calm him down. I look around for lotions that'll calm him down faster. I'm not giving Markus drugs without Rick's permission. I went back to my bed.

It took a while for the heat to de-escalate while Markus settled down. He did have a few climatic waves of panic attacks.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, concerned.

"Not really," he replies truthfully.

"Do you feel safe in the household you are living in now?"

"Well... Y-"

Naomi and Dominique open the door.

"What the hell?" She cusses. "What are you two doing?"

"Talking," I answer casually.

"I don't wanna know."

She makes us roll our eyes and shake our heads. I smile too and hold myself off from giving her the finger playfully.

"We've run out of drinks. We are taking a trip down to the bar before it's impossible. Wanna come?"

"Sure..." I agree.

Markus sighs. "Fine. I just want to get out of this damn room."

"Naid, remove your neck holder, so the bartender doesn't question us," Dominique demands.

"I will, Dom," I grouchily say, "Get Rick."