𝖛. her rotten luck

november, 2026

𝕿he metallic clatter of pots and pans echoed through the cabinets as Evangeline rummaged through them, her knees pressing uncomfortably against the cold tile floor. She muttered under her breath, pushing aside yet another stack of cookware that was far too small for their needs.

“Any luck?” Jennifer’s voice called from across the kitchen, sharp and impatient.

Evangeline pushed herself upright, brushing dust from her hands with a huff of frustration. “Only pots and pans,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothing remotely big enough.”

Jennifer didn’t respond immediately, her eyes scanning the room before settling on the oversized sink in the center of the kitchen. Her finger tapped against her chin as she considered it.

“The sink might work,” she muttered, almost to herself.

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, stepping over to Jennifer’s side. “Unconventional,” she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. “But if the potions witch decrees it…”

Jennifer shot her a tight-lipped smile — brief and unreadable. It wasn’t quite warm, but it wasn’t cold either. Evangeline wasn’t sure if it was politeness or a fleeting moment of amusement. Still, she figured Jennifer was more the type to retort with a sharp comment than to smile for appearances.

“Now we just need…” Jennifer began, trailing off.

“Let me guess,” Evangeline cut in, arching a brow, “eye of newt?”

Jennifer blinked at her, mildly surprised.

“Also known as mustard seed,” Evangeline finished with a shrug, unable to hide the small grin breaking through.

Jennifer’s lips quirked into something close to amusement, but she didn’t linger. “Then you’re on it.”

Evangeline turned toward the pantry, pulling the door open with a soft creak. The quiet interior muffled the sounds of the ticking timer and the running faucet behind her. Shelves lined with neatly labeled jars of spices and dried herbs stretched before her. She scanned the rows, her eyes lighting up when they landed on a jar labeled mustard seed.

“Found it, Jen!” she called, reaching for the jar.

For a moment, there was no reply. Then Jennifer’s voice drifted in, quieter and strange, as though someone else had spoken through her. “Do you smell something rotten?”

Evangeline froze, her fingers brushing the cool glass of the jar. Her brow furrowed. The pantry smelled of the sharp tang of spices, earthy herbs, and old wood. Nothing else.

“Not really—” she began, but her words cut off as the pantry door slammed shut behind her with a resounding bang.

Her heart leapt into her throat. “Jennifer?” she called, turning and reaching for the doorknob. She rattled it, but it wouldn’t budge. The muffled sounds of the kitchen — ticking, running water — were gone. All that greeted her was an unnatural silence. “Jennifer!” she yelled, pounding her fists against the wood, panic bubbling up in her chest. But the door didn’t open, and no sound came from the other side.

A faint crackling noise broke through the quiet behind her. Evangeline froze, her breath catching. The sound grew louder — dry, brittle, like burning wood.

Slowly, she turned.

The pantry was gone.

Now, the space stretched endlessly before her. Vast and void, cloaked in oppressive darkness save for the eerie sight of a single graveyard rising from the gloom. Evangeline blinked hard, shaking her head as if to dispel the vision. This wasn’t real — she knew it couldn’t be. It was the poison. Just the poison twisting her senses. If she could hold out, it would pass.

But her legs betrayed her. They moved, almost as if possessed, carrying her closer to the graveyard. She fought against the pull but to no avail. Her feet stopped at the edge where the wild grass gave way to freshly turned soil, soft and dark, as if the grave had been dug mere moments ago.

Her breath hitched when she looked up, her eyes catching on a headstone.

Her name. Her own name carved into the stone, accompanied by a date she knew far too well. The date she wished she could forget.

The grave wasn’t still for long. Vines began to snake out of the disturbed earth, their movements swift and deliberate. Evangeline turned to flee, but the vines were faster. They coiled around her ankles, tightening as she clawed at the ground, her nails scraping against the dirt and grass.

“No! No, no, no!” she screamed, her voice raw with panic.

The pantry door seemed impossibly far now, shrinking into the distance as the vines dragged her closer to the open grave. Her heart raced, her breaths shallow and frantic. This isn’t real. It’s not real, she told herself over and over, but the terror coursing through her veins felt all too real.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

The darkness dissolved, leaving her sprawled on the polished wooden floor of the pantry. The air returned to her lungs in ragged gasps as she blinked at the familiar, confined walls. Everything looked the same, untouched. She sat up slowly, her entire body trembling.

Evangeline exhaled shakily, dragging herself to her feet. Her gaze darted around the room, as if searching for remnants of the nightmare that had ensnared her. But nothing was amiss. Nothing except her.

She steadied herself, trying to calm her frayed nerves, and reached for the mustard seed jar. Its cool weight grounded her as she tested the doorknob. It turned easily, swinging open without resistance.

The kitchen greeted her, seemingly untouched by whatever horrors had plagued her. Yet something was off. It was too calm, and Jennifer, standing by the sink, seemed tense — her posture rigid, her eyes wary.

Evangeline stepped into the room just as Alice and Teen burst through another door. Alice’s disheveled appearance and wide eyes told Evangeline she hadn’t been the only one.

“You guys okay?” Alice asked, her voice strained, darting her gaze between Evangeline and Jennifer.

“No,” Jennifer admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned heavily against the doorframe, looking drained. “Are you?”

“Definitely not,” Alice said, running a hand through her hair. She looked at Teen, who raised a small vial triumphantly.

“We got the frankincense,” Teen announced.

Alice nodded distractedly before turning her attention back to Evangeline and Jennifer. “Did you check the pantry for the gut of a eusocial insect?”

Evangeline’s eyes flicked toward Jennifer, seeking confirmation.

“Yeah,” Jennifer muttered, her voice still distant, as if she hadn’t fully escaped the nightmare.

"That's just a gross term for honey, isn't it?" Teen realized, his expression twisting in mild disgust.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. Agatha and Lilia appeared in the doorway, both clutching what looked like an assortment of skincare products.

“Alright, we’ve got ours. What’s next?” Agatha announced confidently, her voice cutting through the tension.

But before anyone could answer, a sharp crackling noise reverberated through the room, making everyone freeze. The sound came from the patio doors, their gazes snapping toward the glass panels. Where the golden glow of sunset should have been, there was now an eerie, murky expanse of water pressing against the glass.

A faint trickle of water seeped through the crack Agatha had made earlier, the sight sending a collective chill through the group.

“What is that?” Evangeline asked, her voice muffled, as though the question was too heavy to be fully spoken.

“Is that...?” Lilia’s words trailed off, disbelief coloring her tone.

Jennifer stepped closer, extending a cautious finger to catch a droplet of the water. She brought it to her mouth, her expression shifting to shock as the taste registered. “Salt water.”

“Are we underwater right now?” Teen asked, awe and dread mingling in his voice.

Alice’s gaze remained fixed on the growing crack. “How long is that gonna hold?”

“And what happens when it breaks?” Teen added, his voice rising slightly in panic.

Agatha didn’t wait for answers, crossing her arms and declaring curtly, “No, thank you.”

The unspoken urgency snapped them into action. Without another word, they turned their attention to Sharon, who lay unconscious on the couch. Moving quickly but carefully, they hoisted her onto the large wooden table in the kitchen, ensuring she was out of harm’s way.

Once Sharon was situated, the group crowded around the sink. They were all visibly worse for wear — faces pale and flushed, hands trembling, and the lingering effects of the poison evident in their unsteady movements.

Jennifer took a deep breath, though her voice was uneven as she spoke. “The elements need to be added in a specific order and within a certain time. We start with the guts and eye,” she instructed, her words slightly slurred.

Her trembling hands reached for the jar of honey first. She fumbled with the lid but managed to unscrew it, pouring a generous amount into the sink. The viscous liquid pooled and swirled with the mustard seeds, creating a strange, golden pattern in the water.

“Frankincense is next,” Alice said, stepping forward with the vial Teen had retrieved. She held it carefully over the sink, tipping it slightly to pour.

“Wait! No, no, no, stop!” Jennifer exclaimed suddenly, her voice sharp and frantic. She stumbled forward, swatting Alice’s hand away before the vial could tip further. “Where’s the zooplankton?”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across her face as she waved her bottle in the air. "All-natural or not, Jen?"

Jennifer's jaw tightened, and after a moment of deliberation, she exhaled sharply. “Drop them in,” she muttered, her words heavy with reluctant acceptance.

"I knew it," Agatha said smugly, exchanging a sly glance with Lilia. Without hesitation, they uncapped the bottles in unison and tipped their contents into the sink with a flourish.

"Right, now?" Alice asked, practically bouncing in place as she clutched her vial of frankincense.

"Obviously, yes. Three drops," Jennifer snapped, gesturing impatiently.

Alice stepped up confidently, holding the vial Alice strode forward with an air of determination, but her confidence faltered when she couldn’t pry the tiny stopper loose. She pulled at it furiously, her frustration mounting.

"Take your time," Agatha murmured, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jennifer threw her hands in the air."Oh my God!"

swooped in, plucking the vial from Alice’s hands. He popped the stopper with ease and carefully released three precise drops into the sink.

The reaction was immediate and breathtaking. The water churned briefly before glowing an otherworldly pink, the light reflecting off their tense faces and bathing the room in a surreal, rosy hue.

Everyone exhaled collectively, the air in the room loosening as if someone had lifted a weight from their shoulders. "It’s working. It’s working, right?" Alice asked, her voice tinged with cautious optimism as she glanced at Jennifer.

Jennifer didn’t share their relief. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the glowing sink, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Huh," she muttered.

The single sound cut through the group’s fragile calm like a knife. "What’s wrong?" Lilia demanded, her voice sharp with worry as she leaned in.

Jennifer hesitated, clearly reluctant to admit the oversight. Finally, she let out a sheepish sigh. "Any bright ideas on how to set this sink to boil?"

A chorus of groans echoed through the room. "You didn't think of this before?" Agatha asked, throwing her hands up. 

Jennifer shot her a scathing glare.. "While I was in the middle of a traumatic hallucination? No, Agatha, I did not!"

Teen stepped in, scanning the kitchen as his mind raced. "Is there a sous vide?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope as he darted toward the cupboards with Alice trailing behind him.

Jennifer’s face lit up. "Oh, brilliant!"

Agatha, on the other hand, crossed her arms and frowned. "Is that something people know about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Evangeline and Lilia mirrored her confusion, their blank stares speaking volumes.

Teen didn’t pause to explain as he rummaged through the cabinets, but his voice floated back. "It's a super fancy cooking tool. It heats water to a specific temperature so you can cook your meat evenly. My dad loves his." He straightened triumphantly, holding up a sleek cylindrical device.

As Teen worked to set up the sous vide, Jennifer fumbled with the utensil holder, trying to grab a long wooden ladle. Her hands trembled, the poison's lingering effects still visible. Teen noticed and wordlessly grabbed the ladle for her.

"You need to stir with your dominant hand, counterclockwise," Jennifer instructed, her voice sharp with urgency. Teen stared at her, confusion clouding his expression.

Jennifer let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "To the left, Teen. Stir to the left."

Teen gave her a sheepish nod, as though the concept had finally clicked, and began stirring the glowing mixture.

"Everyone, pull out a strand of your hair. Just one!" Jennifer ordered briskly. They all hesitated for a split second before complying. Evangeline winced as she tugged a strand free, holding the blonde hair delicately between her fingers.

As the others focused on their task, Agatha drifted away from the group. Her steps were slow and uncertain, her gaze fixed on something invisible on the floor. She crouched, her fingers hovering mid-air as though she could feel the weight of something no one else could see.

Her breath hitched suddenly, and she brought her hand to her mouth to muffle a quiet gasp.

"Agatha!" Jennifer’s sharp voice cut through the air, breaking Agatha's trance. Agatha blinked rapidly, startled, and scrambled to her feet, brushing invisible dust from her clothes as though the action would erase her moment of vulnerability.

"What did you see?" Teen asked, his stirring faltering as he glanced over at her.

Agatha hesitated, her eyes darting nervously. "Nothing," she said quickly, the edge in her voice betraying her denial.

"Agatha!" Jennifer snapped, bringing the group back on track. "We need your hair, now."

Agatha gave a tight nod and absently ran a hand through her hair, yanking a strand free with a wince. She returned to the group, her composure shaky but intact.

Jennifer held up her own strand, scanning the others to make sure they were ready. In one synchronized motion, they dropped their strands of hair into the glowing pink liquid. The water hissed and fizzled, and the hairs disintegrated instantly, leaving behind a faint shimmer.

"Stop stirring," Jennifer commanded. Teen promptly set the ladle aside, stepping back from the sink.

Jennifer took a steadying breath, her eyes meeting each of theirs. "Now we need to clasp hands."

They exchanged wary looks before forming a circle around the sink, linking hands hesitantly. Alice’s grip was uncomfortably tight, while Teen’s palm was slightly damp with nervous sweat, but they adjusted, the awkwardness fading as the gravity of the moment settled over them.

"Clear your minds," Jennifer instructed, her voice calm but firm. "We need to align our intentions. When it works, the potion will glow bright cerulean."

They closed their eyes, though some with more hesitation than others. The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the faint hum of the sous vide.

Agatha broke the stillness with a groan. "Wait, what are our intentions again?"

Jennifer’s eyes flew open, and she glared daggers at Agatha. "To not die," she hissed, her voice dripping with barely restrained fury.

A faint hum began to resonate from the sink, growing louder as the potion reacted to their combined energy. The sound built like an ominous drone, filling the room with tension.

Alice cracked one eye open, squinting at the glowing liquid. "I always get cerulean and chartreuse mixed up. Is cerulean the green one?"

"No, it's blue," Teen said confidently, his eyes still tightly shut, though his tone wavered just slightly.

"Then it's not working," Alice declared, her voice tinged with alarm.

"It's like a blue-green, right? Maybe closer to teal?" Teen offered hesitantly.

Lilia opened her eyes and shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "It's green, Teen!" she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Alice let out a groan and thudded her forehead against the counter.

Jennifer’s breath hitched as panic seeped into her voice. Her hands hovered above the sink, gesturing uselessly as if she could physically will the potion to work. "Something’s wrong. I must’ve forgotten something."

"One minute left!" Alice called, her eyes darting to the glowing countdown on the counter.

"What did you forget?" Agatha demanded, her tone edged with urgency.

"I don’t know!" Jennifer snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I’ve never made this potion before! I make retinol serums, for Christ’s sake!"

"Fifty seconds!"

Jennifer's voice cracked, her words spilling out in a panicked torrent. "There was a time when I could just solve this with a wave of my hand. But now? Now I'm bound! He stole my magic! We're all going to die here! I do not want to die here! This is not where I die!"

Her breathing turned shallow and rapid as she gripped the counter, her knuckles whitening under the strain.

Without warning, Agatha stepped forward, grabbing Jennifer by the shoulders and shaking her firmly. Jennifer blinked in surprise, her panicked spiral interrupted.

"I have always hated you," Agatha said, her voice as blunt as a hammer.

Jennifer groaned, rolling her eyes even as her hands trembled. "If this is a pep talk—"

"But," Agatha pressed on, ignoring the interruption, "I left you alone because what you were doing mattered. Not this Kale Kare nonsense—the real work. You can be that witch again, Jen. They can take your power, but they can’t take your knowledge."

Jennifer’s breath hitched, her eyes widening with sudden realization. "Blood," she whispered, the single word snapping through the chaos like a spark.

Agatha’s expression sharpened instantly. "Whose and how much?" she demanded, her tone biting but steady.

"The unpoisoned," Jennifer replied, her gaze locking onto Teen. The room went silent as everyone followed her line of sight.

"Thirty seconds!" Alice called out, her voice tight with urgency.

Agatha didn’t hesitate. She snatched a kitchen knife from the counter, turning to Teen with a grimace. "Thanks for being underage," she quipped, grabbing his hand before he could fully register what was happening.

Teen yelped sharply as Agatha nicked his palm with swift precision. A bead of crimson welled up, dripping into the churning potion.

The reaction was instantaneous. The liquid hissed and frothed, a cascade of colors erupting in the sink. Pink turned to deep purple, then blazed into vivid orange before settling into a simmering yellow.

Jennifer leaned in, her knuckles white as she gripped the counter. "Not yet," she murmured, her voice taut as she tracked the potion’s transformation. The cacophony of swirling magic filled the air, the colors shifting and clashing violently.

The frenzy began to slow, the storm of hues calming until the potion settled into a steady, luminous cerulean.

A collective gasp rippled through the group, relief breaking across their faces like sunlight after a storm.

"Now!" Jennifer barked.

They moved as one, grabbing glasses from the counter and plunging them into the potion. No one hesitated. They drank in unison, each grimacing as the acrid liquid burned down their throats.

Laughter bubbled up amidst the relief, the oppressive haze of the poison lifting with every breath. Their minds cleared, their breathing steadied.

But the victory was short-lived.

The timer let out a sharp beep, snapping them back to reality.

Jennifer’s head whipped toward the sound. "The timer’s still going!" she cried, panic surging back into her voice.

Alice’s eyes widened in horror. "Mrs. Hart!" she shouted, spinning toward the unconscious woman.

Agatha moved faster than thought. She grabbed another glass, dunking it into the potion with practiced precision.

"Take it! Take it!" she shouted, thrusting it into Jennifer’s trembling hands.

Jennifer didn’t hesitate. She passed it to Teen, who scrambled to hand it to Alice.

With only seconds to spare, Alice knelt by Mrs. Hart, tipping the potion past her lips. She tilted the woman’s head back, murmuring frantic encouragement as the antidote slid down her throat.

The timer beeped loudly, its shrill tone cutting through the tension like the swing of a guillotine.

"Did it work?" Agatha asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Her gaze was fixed on Mrs. Hart’s unmoving form, braced for the worst.

The silence was deafening, stretching into an unbearable eternity. Agatha’s lips parted to repeat the question when a sudden, violent clang reverberated through the kitchen.

They all jumped, spinning toward the noise.

The oven door had flung itself open with unnatural force, slamming against the floor.

Lilia hesitated before stepping closer, her movements cautious as she crouched to peer into the dark, gaping oven.

"Is that our exit?" Alice ventured, skepticism dripping from her tone.

Lilia spun around, glaring. "I am not climbing into an oven," she snapped, her voice rising with indignation. "That happened to a friend of mine once. She had a lovely house too. And she ended up—"

Her dramatic monologue was cut short by Agatha’s piercing scream.

Before anyone could react, the kitchen window exploded inward with a deafening crash. Shards of glass sprayed the room as icy water gushed through the shattered frame, cascading in torrents that soaked them instantly.

"Move it!" Jennifer barked, her voice rising above the chaos. She shoved past Lilia with enough force to send her stumbling into Teen. Without hesitation, Jennifer dove headfirst into the glowing oven, vanishing into its pulsating light as if swallowed whole.

Ignoring Lilia’s protests, Evangeline grabbed her arm, wrestling her toward the oven. "No time for arguments!" she shouted, shoving her forward with one final push.

Lilia’s scream echoed through the kitchen as the glowing oven consumed her. With an exasperated sigh, Evangeline followed, plunging into the light.

The descent was far from graceful. The oven wasn’t an exit so much as a slick, chaotic slide. The sensation of rushing downward was disorienting, the glowing light around her blinding.

Evangeline let out a startled yell as she tumbled, and with a heavy thud, she landed face-first in cold, muddy ground.

She groaned, coughing violently as she spat out dirty water and wiped mud from her face.

Above her, another yell echoed. Agatha came hurtling through the portal, her arms flailing. She landed with a graceless crash, colliding with Teen and Evangeline. They groaned in unison, a tangle of limbs sprawled in the muck.

Agatha ignored the others entirely, her hair wild and disheveled as she scrambled to her feet. She shoved Teen and Evangeline back into the mud in her haste to take the lead, her boots squelching loudly with every determined step forward.

Before they could recover, Alice came hurtling through the glowing portal. She landed squarely in the middle of the group, sending a fresh wave of muddy water cascading over everyone. Groaning, she sat up, her drenched clothes plastered to her skin.

Agatha brushed herself off, utterly oblivious to the chorus of groans around her. Her once-neat bun had completely unraveled, and she grimaced as she combed her fingers through her tangled, damp hair.

The others slowly began to pick themselves up, their movements sluggish and cautious on the slippery ground. Teen offered Alice a hand, pulling her upright with a grunt of effort.

Evangeline, however, remained crouched beside Sharon's still form. Her face was pale, her expression shadowed with dread. Tentatively, she reached out, brushing wet strands of hair away from Sharon's clammy forehead. Her fingers hesitated before pressing against the woman's cold skin, searching for any hint of life.

"Evangeline?" Teen called softly, noticing her stillness.

She didn’t respond. Instead, her hands moved to Sharon's abdomen, trembling as she muttered incantations under her breath. A faint, golden-white glow pulsed beneath her palms, flickering briefly before fading into nothing.

Nothing happened.

Her lips parted in a soundless gasp, her shoulders slumping. She was too late.

Teen crouched beside her, his muddy fingers twitching nervously as he looked between her and Sharon. Evangeline’s silence spoke volumes, her wide, glistening eyes and trembling lip confirming the truth he didn’t want to accept.

"A little rusty there, Jen?" Agatha's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, sharp and mocking.

"A little traitorous there, Agatha?" Jennifer snapped back, her tone icy and biting.

"Enough," Lilia interjected, her voice unusually firm. "We're alive. We made it through the first test. Everyone is—"

"Not everyone," Teen interrupted, his voice cracking. He looked down at Sharon's lifeless form, his hands balled into fists. "Sharon's dead."

The declaration hung in the air, suffocating the space between them.

Teen’s hands trembled as he reached out, his fingertips brushing against Sharon’s face. Gently, he closed her vacant eyes, his expression crumpling with grief.

"Who's Sharon?"

𝕬uthor's note!

honestly i don't think i like this chapter but i haven't published anything here in a while so i needed to get it out lol. the next ones are going to eat i promise!!!!