Chapter 5
865words
Crows materialized from her rage, circling overhead, while shadow-snakes slithered from dark corners. All these elements merged into a writhing mass of darkness—a chaotic monster born of jealousy, hatred, and malice.
This was no longer a familiar but the manifestation of her broken psyche. The darkness coalesced into claws, fangs, and countless hate-filled eyes, lunging at me from all directions with a soul-shattering screech! The air in the ritual chamber turned frigid, the temperature plummeting until frost formed on the camera lenses.
I stood motionless.
Facing this nightmarish onslaught, I felt neither fear nor anger—only a profound, hollow sadness.
Is this your answer, Evelyn? Not remorse, not atonement, but blind, destructive rage?
With a gesture almost like a farewell, I slowly withdrew from my pocket the moonstone bracelet—that token of our once-unbreakable friendship from happier days.
The moonstones glowed with gentle radiance in the darkness, like miniature moons. They warmed in my palm, awakening the protective magic my family had cultivated for three centuries.
I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist with solemn reverence.
The moment it clasped shut, pure magical energy blossomed around me like the first warm breeze of spring! A soft emerald halo carrying the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers enveloped me completely. Within this shield, countless luminous ivy vines and white roses swirled and grew, forming an impenetrable barrier of life and protection.
The shadow creatures shrieked as they touched my shield, dissolving like mist under the morning sun.
Their hatred-forged claws sizzled upon contact with the light, instantly purified and dissolved. They released agonized, inhuman wails as they disintegrated.
They thrashed helplessly against my shield before dissolving one by one into wisps of black smoke that faded into nothingness.
Evelyn watched in disbelief as her most powerful magic—fueled by years of hatred—crumbled so easily before me. Her face contorted with jealousy and madness.
"No… IMPOSSIBLE!" she screamed, desperately channeling more power, recklessly emptying her entire magical reservoir in a final attempt to overwhelm me.
But how could her magic—born of greed and jealousy, chaotic and corrupted—possibly match my pure protective magic, sourced from generations of guardianship?
Her dark energy crashed against my emerald shield without creating even the slightest ripple in its surface.
Finally, my amulet reflected her magic back—not as a simple rebound, but as a purified return. The darkness washed away, leaving only pure, cleansed energy flowing back to its source.
"AAAAHHH!"
Evelyn's scream pierced the air as the purified energy struck her corruption-tainted body—a judgment more terrible than any attack. The backlash of her own magic threw her backward like a discarded doll.
She lay crumpled on the floor, her mind shattered. Hallucinations flooded her vision—the faces of those she'd hurt, the souls she'd exploited, all transformed into accusing specters surrounding her.
She mumbled incoherently: "Grandmother… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… Stay away! STAY AWAY!" She alternated between sobbing at invisible horrors and laughing maniacally at tender memories—truly broken by the weight of her own sins.
The ritual chamber fell into stunned silence.
The production crew and guests stood paralyzed with shock, unable to process the earth-shattering revelations and the tragic spectacle they'd just witnessed. They might as well have been turned to stone.
After a full minute of stunned silence, social media erupted into chaos. Servers crashed from the traffic surge, and the technical team's phones buzzed non-stop with alerts.
The audience was reeling from the series of shocking twists—a tale of friendship, betrayal, and tragedy that no one had expected from a reality show.
Simon and Bianca were the first to recover. They approached me cautiously, clearly concerned about my emotional state.
"Morgan… it's… over now," Simon said, his voice shaky with residual fear and genuine sympathy.
Bianca adjusted her glasses, her scholarly composure returning. "Her own greed for power and unresolved resentment caused this magical backlash. From a mystical perspective, this outcome was inevitable."
A network executive appeared, ashen-faced, announcing in a trembling voice that due to "unforeseen circumstances," the show would be suspended indefinitely.
Medical personnel in uniform rushed in, accompanied by grim-faced security officers. They strapped the still-raving Evelyn to a stretcher and quickly removed her from the scene.
Whether she was headed for a psychiatric facility or into the custody of some shadowy organization that handled supernatural incidents, one thing was certain—her carefully crafted persona as a celebrity witch had crashed and burned spectacularly.
As I watched her being carried away, I felt no triumph—only bone-deep exhaustion. Our years of tangled history had ended in tragedy, not the reconciliation I'd once hoped for.
I slowly took out the small wooden owl figurine from my pocket and hung it back around my neck.
Its familiar weight against my skin calmed my turbulent emotions. This amulet—my mother's final gift—now served as the only memorial to a friendship long dead.
I turned and walked away, feeling the weight of countless stares—shocked, sympathetic, fearful, curious. Step by step, I headed toward the police car flashing red and blue outside, and toward whatever uncertain future awaited me beyond this night.
