Carrie:

The summer sun relentlessly beats down on you, and you can feel the sweat dripping down your back. You've just moved to Chamberlain, Maine, and your dad insisted that church camp would be the perfect opportunity to make new friends before the school year starts.

Yet, as you stand amidst the lively crowd, you can't shake the feeling of being out of place. The other campers all know each other from previous years, and none make an effort to branch out of their tight-knit groups.

Throughout the week, you awkwardly float along the sidelines, talking to everyone so you don't stick out like a sore thumb but not making any real connections. Among the campers, only one other person seems to be as left out as you are. Carrie White. 

Mean, immature pranks are played on her - her underwear hidden, a snake slipped into her shoe, her mattress dragged into the woods. It honestly broke your heart to watch, and you silently promised yourself to try reaching out. 

One night, everyone is gathered around the campfire for s'mores and hot dogs. As a camp counselor starts a sing-along, you notice Carrie sitting alone.

Her gaze fixed on the flames and she almost looks like a ghost in her old-fashioned, white nightgown. She looks so isolated, so vulnerable in the fading light. Something warm within your chest stirs, and you find yourself quietly sneaking off. You approach her, offering a small smile. 

"Mind if I join you, Carrie?"

Startled, she looks up with her blue eyes blown wide. Her strawberry blonde hair falls in untamed waves, and she nervously braids and unbraids the ends. "Oh, um, sure," she stammers, shifting over to make room on the log.

As the night grows darker, you sit beside Carrie, talking about everything and nothing. Slowly, you see a flicker of trust light up her eyes. Other campers slowly start to drift off to bed, but you stay. Finally, as the moon hangs high in the sky, her voice breaks and snotty tears run down her face. You wrap your arm around her, offering comfort in the quiet of the cabin.

Queen Akasha:

In the ancient land of Egypt, where the sun kissed the sand and the Nile flowed with secrets, you had always lived within the shadows of the palace. Your parents were tired laborers who toiled under the blazing heat, but you knew the higher ranks looked down on people like you.

You had never truly understood it - what was Egypt but a sea of sand? What were the pyramids but rock and dust? Your people, with scarred hands and tired eyes and burnt skin made it into something grand. Your people made theirs possible.

But the world did not see it that way, and you soon decided that you must become someone important if your family was ever to be respected. 

You were drawn to the martial arts, sneaking into training sessions whenever you could. Your parents recognized your unique talent for combat and stealth, and they found ways to bribe you into secret lessons. Years of relentless practice and training honed your skills, turning you into a formidable warrior. 

It wasn't long before you were recruited to protect the pharaoh, Enkil. You accepted the role without hesitation, swearing an oath to protect Enkil even through the afterlife.

As pharaoh, he was born of the gods and ruled over all of Egypt. You could find no greater honor than to serve him and protect your people.

Yet, as you stood vigilant by the pharaoh's side, you couldn't help but feel Queen Akasha's dark eyes upon you. Her reputation as a figure of power and beauty had reached your ears, and her gaze held a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. She was well-loved by Enkil, even with his multitude of concubines, and was always covered in jewels as a testament to her status. 

But it was not her wealth that held you captive. It was her presence, a force that seemed to consume the very air around her. Even now she was clearly in charge, splayed across the pharaoh's lap in his chambers. She dictated what they ate and spoke of with such subtle manipulation you would've thought you were mistaken if you hadn't seen this before. 

Queen Akasha grabbed Enkil's chin and opened his mouth for him, popping in a ripe grape. She placed small, gentle kisses all along his jaw as he chewed and made her way to his ear. She must've said something because then Enkil was nodding along. He rose from his cushion, holding a hand up when you moved to follow him.

Instead, two guards from the far corner flanked his side and lead him out. You were staring after him when a voice like velvet and sin called your name. Of course, it was Queen Akasha. With a quiet sigh, you turned and fell to your knees before her. She made you stay there a few seconds longer than Enkil did, and you had no doubt it was completely intentional.

"Rise," she eventually commanded.

You obeyed; your gaze glued to the heavy necklace on her chest.

"You are a fierce protector," she purred, hands playing with the sheer black sash wrapped around her waist.

You'd seen her doing that before when a new pet was brought to the palace, or a particularly disobedient servant was publicly punished.

"I've seen your skills firsthand, and it is the best yet."

You nodded, a mix of pride and suspicion swelling within you. "It is my great duty to serve the pharaoh, my Queen, and an even greater honor."

With a flick of the wrist, she beckoned you to her side. You stood next to her, swallowing roughly as she grabbed your shirt to pull you down to her level. Your cheeks pressed together and her perfume, all spice, invaded your senses.

"But what if I were to ask you to serve me," she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of desire and danger. You weren't ignorant of the rumors that surrounded Queen Akasha, whispers of her dark thirst for power.

But after shadowing him for months, you also knew the pharaoh. If he had not agreed, this conversation would have never taken place - not even as a joke. And if he had agreed, then it wasn't a question, but a command.

With a shaky sigh, you stepped back just enough to meet her gaze. Queen Akasha's eyes were a deep brown, the color of the Nile banks after a flash flood. You could feel them dragging you down, suffocating you, but you dared not look away. 

Your queen flashed a sharp smile, fingers trailing over the jewels that adorned her bare skin. Her eyebrows arched in a silent challenge and though much slower than before, you once again kneeled at her feet.

"As Thoth guards the night, I would guard you, my queen, if so commanded."

"Then, protector, it seems you are now mine."

Lori Spengler:

You were at a wild sorority party, surrounded by flashing neon lights, thumping music, and joyful chaos. In the dimly lit room, students danced carelessly and clung to each other like glittering fireflies. Your heart raced as you stood on a table, swaying to the infectious rhythm.

The alcohol was warm and fuzzy in your stomach, the world blurring into pretty, swirling colors. Beside you, a girl named Tree laughed and twirled, her blond hair flying through the air.

"This is the best party ever!" she shouted over the music.

You were right there with her, loving every moment, until an unfortunate misstep sent you tumbling from the table. The ground rushed to meet you, and a sharp pain flared in your ankle.

You cried out, but it was lost in the deafening music. The throbbing beat in your head seemed to amplify with the pain in your foot. That's when a dark-haired angel stepped out of the crowd, crouching at your side. 

Her skin was so soft and nice as she brushed the hair out of your face, and you gave her a big dopey smile. She smiled back, small and concerned, with her pretty brown eyes wide with worry. Tree hurried over to your other side, tugging roughly at your arm. She didn't seem too concerned about your injury, more eager to get back to the party.

"Lori, just patch her up. I want to get back out there," Tree insisted, her tone impatient.

Lori cast a frustrated glance at Tree but focused back on you. 

"Don't worry. We'll have you up and dancing again in no time," she assured, her voice soft and soothing. 

With gentle hands, Lori helped you to your feet, supporting your weight as you tried to put pressure on your injured ankle. She led you to their shared dorm room, and you sat down in her rolling desk chair.

As Lori grabbed her first aid kit, Tree plopped down on her bed, already scrolling through her phone. The bright screen made you groan, and Tree stuck her tongue at you as you rubbed your eyes.

"Go on back, Tree," Lori assured her. "I got this."

She was gone before Lori even finished. Snorting at her roommate, Lori cleaned and wrapped your ankle with expert care. You could barely feel her touch and if your body wasn't so light and floaty, you would've pressed closer to her.

She smelled so good, like clean laundry fresh out of the dryer. You bet she'd feel good too. You watched her work, everything feeling a bit surreal and out of place.

"I'd hurt all the time if you'd take care of me," you slurred. "You're like... the most nurse-y nurse ever. But no cold hands."

Lori took your babbling in stride. You were definitely still feeling the effects of alcohol, but it was good that you were conscious and at least somewhat aware. "Is that a good thing," she asked, only half-paying attention.

"Very good," you reassured her. Your hands played with the collar of Lori's shirt, and she shivered as it tickled. "Competence is hot!"

Lori chuckled softly, though she was growing increasingly flustered. "Well, thank you. It's important to me."

Once satisfied with her handiwork, Lori helped you settle onto her bed, rearranging to keep your foot elevated and comfortable. 

"Rest here," she murmured, tucking a blanket around you. "And you'll feel better in no time. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

You blinked dumbly at her. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but Lori's kindness had touched you in a way you couldn't quite put into words. When was the last time someone cared for you? You couldn't remember, and you rubbed your face in Lori's pillow as silent tears welled up.

"You're my hero."

Lori chuckled softly, eyes shyly darting around the room. "Just being nurse-y."

As she turned to leave, you couldn't resist calling after her, "Bet you're good at playing doctor, too."

Your eyes were already half-closed, missing the blush that crawled up Lori's neck and face. Even her ears turned red, and she fanned herself as she went downstairs to grab some extra ice. Safe and warm, you drifted into a blurry, half-baked dream.

Jennifer Check:

You're at your locker, the metal door clanging open to reveal neatly arranged books and a few carefully pinned photos. The school hallway hums with the chatter of students and the faint smell of glue and paint.

It's game day and school spirit posters are plastered absolutely everywhere. It took you and the rest of the cheer squad hours to do yesterday, and you're praying for a slow start in classes before practice and the pep rally. 

Using the small mirror attached to your locker door, you carefully draw the school mascot on your cheek with face paint. You can feel Jennifer's eyes on you as you brush away the stubborn glitter from yesterday with a makeup brush. 

She did that a lot - the staring. You weren't quite sure why, you've known Jennifer for years and can't remember anything important happening, but there's always been an undercurrent of tension. 

She was there when you passed Chemistry, when you did a perfect stunt landing, when you were runner up for Snowflake Queen. Always watching, blue eyes narrowed into slits and her face frozen in a stiff smile. 

With a final adjustment to your uniform, you close your locker and turn to face Jennifer. Her eyes meet yours for a brief moment, and you offer her a warm, friendly smile. 

"Ready to show our school spirit, Jen," you ask excitedly. "I've got some extra paint left if you need it!"

 "I think I'll leave the cheering to the experts," she retorts, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Suit yourself, but you're missing out on all the fun."

The first bell rings, signaling the start of classes. The hallway is a sea of eager students, each one sporting the school colors with pride. You pass Jennifer on your way to your first class, and she can't resist one final attempt to get under your skin. 

"Good luck out there," she says, her voice laced with feigned sweetness. "I hear the crowd can be quite...demanding."

You ignore the subtle jabs trying to chip away at your confidence. Jennifer just wants you to fight back, to give her a reason to hate you, and it's a game you refuse to play.

"Well, that's why they have us," you reply, your tone light and playful. "To give them a show they'll never forget."

You blow her a kiss and continue down the hallway, leaving Jennifer standing momentarily speechless. She turns to her friend, Needy, who's been quietly standing by her side with a pouty frown.

"You see that, Needy?" Jennifer exclaims, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "They think they're salty, strutting around in that stupid uniform! As if!"

Needy sighs, not entirely surprised by Jennifer's outburst. "Jen, you're getting obsessed. Just let it go."

Jennifer's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "Butt out, Needy. This is between me and...them."

Esther:

You've just come back from college to visit home, and the weather is still transitioning from mild autumn to crisp winter. You'd never admit it out loud, but you had missed seeing your family all the time. Eating pizza on a crowded couch. Making your little sister Sleepy-Time tea. Playing basketball in the driveway with your dad. You're glad to be back and promise yourself to help out as much as you can. 

One chilly afternoon, your sister is practically bouncing off the walls. The neighbors, Kate and John Coleman, just recently adopted a girl just a little older than your sister. They've had plenty of playdates over the week - too many, your mom says with a tired chuckle - and she's eager to introduce you and her new friend. 

You're excited too. Your sister was always trailing behind you like a lost little duck, and she took it hard when you moved out. Now that she's met Esther, maybe it won't be so bad when you have to go back. 

Esther arrives with a cautious smile, bundled up tightly in a crimson scarf and beanie. Her big, round eyes look you up and down, and you can't help but find her cute. You crouch in front of Esther and tousle her hair. Esther squeaks and your sister laughs as she blushes. 

"Esther," you grin. "It's so great to meet you! I've heard a lot about you."

"Thank you for having me," she replies, and you internally aww at how sweet and nervous she is.

Throughout the playdate, you dote on Esther, playing games and doing activities that make her feel comfortable and cherished. You can see how she soaks up the attention, her laughter ringing through the house like the tinkling of a bell. Despite the age difference, you're struck by how easy it is to connect with her, as if she were a long-lost friend.

As the day draws to a close, Esther looks reluctant to leave. "I had so much fun today. Can we do this again sometime?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.

"Sure! We'll make it a regular thing," you assure her, already looking forward to the next time she comes over.

Nancy Downs:

You never believed in magic. There was no such thing as manifesting your desires into existence or waving a stick around to make your problems go away. You only trusted what you could firmly grasp in your own two hands. So, Lirio's Occult Shop was the last place you ever thought you'd find yourself. But you needed the extra cash to move out after graduation. So, you found yourself surrounded by tarot cards, a million different jars of rocks, and incense that made you sneeze every five minutes.

On a mundane Tuesday afternoon, as you dust the shelves stacked with spell books, you hear the jingle of the shop's bell, and in walks a trio of girls. The ringleader walks front and center, always a few steps ahead of the others. Jet-black hair slicked back, her pale skin and heavy makeup only sharpened the feral gleam in her dark eyes. She walked like the world was hers, her two friends trailing behind as if they were orbiting her gravitational pull.

You remember her from when Lirio hired you. It was no secret that Nancy and her friends have a case of the sticky fingers. Lirio told you to keep an eye on them, to not let them in the back room under any circumstances, but otherwise leave them alone. 

You couldn't understand why she didn't just call the police, but Lirio had a glazed look in her eyes when she said they were tangled in something much bigger. You were pretty sure the shopkeeper just had too many hits from the bong. But again, you needed the money. Who cared what she got up to as long as you were paid.

As Nancy glides toward the apothecary section, her dark eyes scan you up and down from your shiny shoes to your new, clean blouse. Your hair was neat and tidy, your nails short and trimmed.

Witches or not, this was a job and your mother would kill you if you didn't put your best foot forward. 

Nancy must've whispered something to her friends, or maybe they just knew each other like the back of their hands, because all you see is Nancy scrunching her nose before the trio erupts into giggles. You raise a brow, standing your ground at the cash register.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this," Nancy purrs, brushing her fingers against the jars of dried herbs.

Her tone is as smoky as her maroon lipstick, and you know it wasn't a compliment. Coming from her, nice burned like acid.

"Nice is relative," you bite back. "And I work here, thanks for asking."

Nancy smirks and continues pretend shopping. Her friends lingered by bookcase, quietly waiting for Nancy's lead. You decide not to give her the chance and walk straight up to Nancy, leaning on the empty shelf in front of her.

"You seem to know your way around herbs," you comment, feigning casual interest. "Planning to brew a love potion, or just trying to spice up your after-school snacks?"

Nancy turns to you, teeth bared in a too-wide grin. "I don't need any help with love, doll. But you could use a personality infusion. The old bat sell those here?"

"Probably, though I've heard they sell witty comebacks at the pharmacy. Two for one sale today."

Her eyes darkened, the room's air suddenly thick, buzzing with unspoken tension. Rochelle and Bonnie exchanged quick glances, sensing the shift, but neither moved. Nancy's fingers twitched, the slight clench of her jaw betraying her irritation. You could feel something between you both, an energy humming in the space like a live wire ready to spark. It snapped like a rubber band, and the coven could feel heated sparks on the tips of their fingers. Nancy clenches her hands into fists while Rochelle and Bonnie gave each other wide-eyed looks.

It was a strange feeling, like two powerful forces meeting for the first time. And even though you didn't feel the magic like they did, you couldn't stop staring at the subtle pulse in Nancy's neck. You licked your teeth, suddenly craving the sharp taste of iron.

Nancy's dark lips curled, almost inviting, almost daring.

The Beldam:

It only took one phone call for you to completely upend your life. One phone call and three days later you find yourself in the middle of Oregon, sharing an apartment with your sister and her young daughter. Your sister was going through a nasty divorce, and soon her husband and his lawyers kicked her out of the house. She called you, sobbing and begging for you to pick up her daughter.

I don't trust him, she said. I need to know she'll be okay.

So, you did one better. You made arrangements with work, hired a house sitter, and moved with your sister to the Pink Palace Apartments. It was a few hours from the law firm your sister was using, but you promised to hold down the fort and watch your niece when she left.

Over the last month you've been here, you noticed your niece behaving strangely. Her eyes seemed far-off and distant, her conversations hushed and filled with mysterious giggles. One day, like magic, she even started carrying around a doll that looked exactly like her. You had no idea where it came from, and though your neighbors were a bit odd, you trusted them when they said they weren't involved.

You didn't have any concrete evidence, but couldn't shake off the creepy-crawly feeling you got. You knew something was wrong, knew it deep in your bones, and you were determined to find out what it was.

You waited in the living room, hiding behind the old armchair after putting your niece to bed. Not even fifteen minutes later, she snuck out of her room and unlocked the small, boarded up door on the living room wall. She crawled in and the door shut behind her.

With a deep breath and a racing heart, you follow your niece through the little door. Hesitation fills you as you step into the darkness on the other side, but as you push it open, you find yourself back in the living room of the Pink Palace Apartment. At least, you think it's the living room. 

The room is bathed in light, almost like every color was enhanced, and it seemed to pulsate with energy. At first glance, you'd describe it as alive but the longer you looked, the more...wrong that word felt.

Instead, you thought about the desperate wriggling of a worm on a hook. Half-dead and trying so hard not to be.

Your niece, practically glowing with a giant smile on her face, is playing a board game on the floor with...your sister? No, it wasn't her, but the resemblance was uncanny. She looked like a carbon copy of your sister two or three years ago, but her once familiar eyes were replaced with black buttons.

The sight pulls a choked groan out of you, and both girls' heads snap to you. Your niece shouts your name in excitement, jumping up to pull you into their little circle. You hesitate but eventually sit down, unsure of what's quite going on. 

The "Other Mother," as your niece calls her, grins and treats you with a familiar love. She acts like your real sister, using the same laugh and jokes, but you can't shake the uneasy feeling you get every time she comes too close. You want to run, to bolt out the door, but you don't want to set this woman off either.

Finally, the game comes to an end, and the "Other Mother" begins packing it away. She turns to you with an unsettling, sweet smile as she takes the game pieces from you, and her hands linger a second too long.

"Oh, it's almost morning! You can stay here, and I'll whip up some breakfast. I don't mind," she coos, her words wrapping around you like a silken thread. 

Maybe, if you'd been by yourself, you would have said yes. But when she said those words, your niece squealed and stomped her feet. She looked up at you with those big, beautiful eyes and a shiver ran down your spine.

There was no way in hell either of you were staying.

"Thanks," you mutter, "but we really need to get to bed."

Your niece nods and gives the "Other Mother" a tight hug. "We'll be back tomorrow!"

The walk back to your apartment was filled with anxious thoughts and lingering unease. You couldn't shake the feeling that the "Other Mother" was watching, her gaze piercing through the walls, through reality itself.

When you arrived at your apartment, you promptly locked the door and pocketed the key. You walked back upstairs to tuck your niece into bed, promising her that tomorrow would be a new day and that you'd have a talk in the morning.

Then, you stepped into the living room, determined to call your sister and share the unsettling truth. As you picked up your phone, however, a voice like the pin prick of needles whispered in the back of your mind.

"Wouldn't you like to play more games?"

The words echoed in your head, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your skin. Turning slowly, you found yourself staring at the boarded-up door. It was as if it beckoned you to return to the twisted reality on the other side.