Carrie:

The first day at Thomas Ewen High School is a whirlwind of new, new, new. The hallways are like a maze and every locker looks exactly the same. Your classmates' names and faces blur together in your mind, and you mix people up more than just a few times throughout the day. It's overwhelming, and your shoulders tense with anxiety.

But on the second day, as you're walking to your next class, you catch a glimpse of familiar strawberry-blonde hair, a flash of pale skin. Your heart skips a beat, and you quicken your pace, eager to reunite with Carrie. She's sitting on a bench, deep in a book. Her skirt is so long it drags in the dirt, and her forehead is dotted with sweat from wearing so many layers. 

"Carrie!" you call out, your voice filled with excitement.

Startled, she jumps out of her seat and grabs her backpack. Her response is more jittery than you remember, and you pay extra attention to the way everyone stopped to stare at you. 

"Oh, it's you," Carrie stammers, closing her book with shaky hands and sitting back down.

You take a seat beside her, a mix of joy and concern in your eyes. 

"I've been looking all over for you. How have you been?"

She shrugs, her gaze fixed on the floor. 

"Just the same, I guess."

You notice how her shoulders hunch, as if she's bracing herself. The students are still casting curious glances your way, but they're just silent, hovering shadows.

"I'm glad I found you," you say. "It was nice talking to you at the camp, and I wanted to catch up."

Carrie's gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you see a flicker of something beneath her usual shyness. 

"Really?" she asks, her voice soft but hopeful.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. 

"Absolutely. You're actually a lifesaver. I was so stressed about being all on my own, but here you are! Just when I need you."

As the words leave your lips, Carrie blinks long and slow. It's clear that she's not used to kindness, and it both warms your heart and saddens you that you're the first.

Carrie's fingers play nervously with her sleeves, eyes dropping to her lap. 

"I... I appreciate it."

"You don't have to thank me. Friends look out for each other, right?"

The word "friends" hangs in the air, and you see a complicated mix of emotions dance across Carrie's face—hope, uncertainty, a touch of disbelief. It's as if she's not sure if she's allowed to have a friend, like she needs permission. 

You decide to change the subject, steering towards safer ground. 

"Have you seen any good movies lately? Or any books?"

Carrie's eyes light up at the mention of books, a topic she clearly adores. She starts to speak, her words flowing more freely, the nervous tension slowly melting away. You find yourself drawn into the conversation, sharing your own favorite stories and authors. Both of you are surprised when the late bell rings, and you look around to see the courtyard mostly empty. 

"Aww, man! I totally lost track of time," you sigh. Standing up, you offer Carrie a warm smile. "Hey, mind walking me to class? You might get a pass since I'm new."

The idea seems to both surprise and please her. She hesitates for a moment before nodding, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

"That...that sounds nice."

Queen Akasha:

After swearing your loyalty, your duties shifted as your days filled with attending to Queen Akasha and ensuring her safety. You soon began to grasp the subtleties of the court, learning to navigate its complexities with the poise of a well-trained warrior.

Queen Akasha was unlike anyone you had ever known. You witnessed her seamless manipulation of court politics, every move calculated and cleanly executed. It was an art form in a world where shadows concealed secrets and the unspoken held more weight than the uttered.

It was fascinating. She could push someone into destroying themselves with a ditzy smile and topple cities with a flick of her wrist. You never truly knew if and how genuine Queen Akasha was, and you toed the line between you two with caution.

One evening, you found yourself summoned inside her chambers. The air was thick with an unspoken tension and the strong scent of incense. The Queen sat on the edge of her bed, oiled skin glinting in the flickering torchlight.

"I trust your watchful eyes have not missed anything amiss within the palace walls," she asked, her voice echoing in the vast chamber.

You bowed respectfully. "No, my Queen. The palace remains secure under my vigilant watch."

Queen Akasha's lips curled into a sharp smile. "You possess a rare dedication. Tell me, what is it that drives you? What dreams do you harbor beneath your guarded exterior?"

She was prodding into dangerous territory now. You could be accused of treason and blasphemy, reaching beyond the station the gods had given you. It was a death sentence, but so was not answering. Treading carefully, you kept your tone solemn and polite.

"My aspirations are simple, my Queen. To serve with loyalty and honor, to safeguard the pharaoh and Egypt."

Queen Akasha tilted her head slightly, her scrutiny unwavering. 

"Yet, do you not yearn for more? To ascend beyond the shadows that confine you?"

Her words wrapped around you like delicate tendrils, stirring a thrill you could not deny. You hesitated, and Queen Akasha latched onto it like a leech.

"Speak your truth," she coaxed softly, bottomless eyes locking with yours.

"I am content in my station, my Queen," you replied, attempting to cover up your lapse in judgement. "I find purpose in my service."

The Queen sighed, tracing swirling patterns on her knee that lifted her nightdress. "Ah, but purpose can be found in many forms. The world holds more than duty alone."

The insinuation left a lingering weight in your stomach that excited and unsettled you. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull she exuded, drawing you deeper into her clutches, but your pharaoh trusted in you. You couldn't betray that. Not yet.

"I am honored to serve you, Queen Akasha," you replied more firmly.

A moment of silence hanged between you, heavy with the unspoken and the inexplicable pull of desires unexplored. Sensing your reluctance, Queen Akasha straightened and nodded toward the door.

"Very well. You may leave."

As you left, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder. You caught a glimpse of Queen Akasha, her composed mask faltering slightly. It was a momentary lapse, a flicker of vulnerability that clashed with her usual domineering aura.

Confusion and curiosity tugged at your thoughts. You knew that to serve Queen Akasha was to walk a precarious line between duty and desire, honor and darkness. But you had never been the best at resisting temptation.

Lori Spengler:

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and a muddled recollection of the previous night. With the golden glow of the morning light filtering through your dorm window, you rubbed your eyes and stumbled toward the bathroom. The party seemed more like a distant dream than a tangible memory. You winced as you glanced at your foot, carefully bandaged by Lori.

A pang of gratitude hit you. She had taken such good care of you, and you wanted to repay her. The perfect opportunity came to mind – coffee. People always appreciate a good cup of joe, right? Especially if they were pulling hospital shifts and studying.

Carrying a tray with seven different cups of coffee, you made your way to the campus hospital and chatted with the receptionist.

"Hi there! I'm looking for Lori Spengler. Is she on her rounds yet," you asked, holding up the drink tray as evidence.

The receptionist returned your smile, pulling a pair of reading glasses out of her pocket.

"Sure, let me check her schedule for you."

But the sharp squeak of Crocs on the linoleum floors interrupted you. And there she was – Lori Spengler in her nurse uniform, looking adorably flustered with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. Her cheeks flushed pink as her eyes met yours, and she hurriedly maneuvered her way through the bustling hallway of the hospital. You couldn't help but smirk, nerves melting away.

"Hey there, Nurse Lori!" you called out, your voice carrying a playful, teasing tone.

"Uh, h-hi," she stammered.

Her awkward smile brightened the room despite the bags under her eyes and her drooping ponytail.

"Busy day?"

Lori chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Always is around here. But I'm used to it."

"Looks like you could use a pick-me-up," you nodded toward the tray of assorted coffee cups in your hand.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture. "Oh, wow. That's...thank you."

"Yeah, um, I've got class and wanted to swing by to pay you back," you shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool.

"You're too sweet," Lori replied, clearly flattered. "Thank you."

"It's no big deal," you said, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. "I just figured after all the care you gave me at the party, it was the least I could do."

Lori shifted uneasily as a blonde doctor walked by. Seeing her frown when he didn't spare a glance, you quickly changed gears and tried to lighten the mood. From what you heard, most doctors at Bayfield University Hospital were assholes who bulldozed over their nurses and interns. She was probably having a rough go of it.

"Besides," you chirped, "I didn't know what you liked, so I got a mix of everything. I hope you're not a decaf person. That's a real deal-breaker."

Lori chuckled softly, focusing back in. Her eyes turned soft and warm like hot chocolate as a small smile tugged at her lips. "Decaf? Isn't that like a cardinal sin?"

"You never know, Lori. Decaf's like the pineapple on pizza debate. Divisive stuff."

As you turned to leave, Lori's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I'll be sure to give Tree a caffeine kick, too. That girl's energy is on another level."

You flashed her a charming grin over your shoulder. "As long as it's not the one with my number on it!"

Lori's laugh rang out, warm and genuine, as she fumbled with the tray of coffee. The hospital continued its steady rhythm, the conversation around you blending with the distant beeps of machinery. With a little extra hop to your step, you left Lori to her rounds, glad for the chance to brighten her day, if only for a moment.

Jennifer Check:

You settle into your seat in the classroom, the air thick with the familiar smell of chalk and stale books. A few friends wave from across the room, and you give them a quick thumbs-up before the lesson starts.

The morning rolls on, classes shifting like the tide, each one ushering in a new wave of students. Finally, it's lunchtime, and the cafeteria buzzes with activity. You grab your tray and slide into your usual spot among friends, swapping stories from the morning classes.

As you chat, Jennifer's presence suddenly disrupts your conversation. She walks by your table, friends in tow, but she hesitates for a split second. Her eyes flit briefly in your direction before she continues, chin held high.

"Here she comes, the queen bee," one of your friends remarks, a hint of teasing in their voice. 

You chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, you mean Miss Sneak-a-Peek?"

Laughter ripples across your friends as they shake their heads in amusement. Jennifer's not-so-subtle attentiveness hasn't gone unnoticed by anyone, especially not you.

You catch her gaze as she sits in her usual spot, and without missing a beat, you flash her a playful grin. Jennifer arches her eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing her face before she turns away, hiding a small smile.

As lunch progresses, Jennifer seems restless, unable to shake off the occasional glance in your direction. Needy tries to engage her in conversation, but Jennifer's focus drifts, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Just as you're about to toss your tray, Jennifer rises from her seat and Needy trails after her like a shadow.

"Hey, cheerleader," Jennifer calls out, her voice ringing with a mix of irritation and something you can't quite place.

You turn to face her, meeting her gaze with an air of casual indifference. "Hey, Jen."

Her lips twitch. "So, what's the secret to all that school spirit? Extra strength hairspray?"

You lean against the table, a playful glint in your eye. "A little school pride and a lot of confidence," you reply, trying to keep things light despite the underlying tension.

Jennifer's smirk falters for a moment. "Right. Well, don't let it get to your head. You're not that special."

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Too late for that, I'm afraid."

Needy's voice interrupts, pleading and frustrated. "Jen, can we go now? This isn't helping."

Jennifer glances over her shoulder at Needy, then back at you, her eyes searching for something. But before she can say anything more, Needy pulls at her sleeve, ushering her away.

You watch them go, your mind filled with a whirlwind of thoughts about Jennifer's puzzling behavior. Despite the hostility in her words, there's something more there, something you can't quite put your finger on.

Esther:

Esther found any and every excuse to come over now, and your mom often teased you about her crush. For as sweet and shy as she was, Esther was not subtle. She started wearing the same style as you and copying your interests. She even asked about your college classes, trying to look more mature and smarter in your eyes. 

It was kind of cute in a weird way, but you never thought much of it. She just had an innocent crush, and you've had plenty of those yourself. Not everyone was as unbothered as you, though.

For example, you once made the offhand comment that you thought people with piercings were hot. Mrs. Coleman told your mom that Esther begged for the next three days to get a nose stud. Esther argued it was pretty and that she didn't get a chance to do things like this at the orphanage, but Mrs. Coleman put her foot down and said no. Esther was too young, it was entirely inappropriate, and trying to impress someone much older than her just showed how immature Esther was.

"She hasn't said a word to her since," your mom gossiped, folding laundry while the two of you watched Family Feud. "Total silent treatment! She'll only talk through John and locks herself up in her room when he's at work."

You sighed and popped your back on the couch's arm. "She's a kid, they're all like that."

Your mom raised a brow and clicked her tongue. You couldn't help but squirm in your seat. The TV audience's applause filled the uneasy silence, but your mother's shifting gaze made it impossible to ignore the growing tension in the room.

"What," you snapped. 

"Nothing," she replied, but it was clear that the topic was far from settled. 

Hoping to get your mom off your back, you walked across the street and asked to see Esther a few hours later. 

Mrs. Coleman was not happy to see you, but she had no other choice. No one else could get through to her new daughter, and she thought that a good scolding from you would stamp out Esther's crush as quickly as it developed. She took you to Esther's room and went back to the kitchen to make lunch. 

The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, and the lace curtains cast pretty shadows on the floor. Esther looked up with an annoyed frown that quickly turned into a wide smile when she saw you, eyes dark and hooded. She was lying in bed, fingers tracing the pages of her book. 

"Hey, Esther."

"Oh, hi!" 

She closed the book gently, placing it on her lap. You flopped face-first onto her bed and a warmth filled your chest when Esther giggled at the way you bounced her. You breathed in the scent of old paper and lavender on her sheets before turning to meet Esther's gaze. 

"How's it going," you asked. "Your mom mentioned there's been a bit of tension lately."

Esther sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling her knees to her chest. She rested her chin on her elbow, looking down at you through her eyelashes. 

"Yeah, we've been...fighting a bit."

She really was adorable, but you still had to say something before everyone blamed you for her behavior. 

"You've been trying out some new looks, too," you said gently. "Even talked about getting a nose stud, I heard."

Esther's cheeks flushed a pale pink, and she looked away. 

"Mommy shouldn't have told you," she murmured, her voice tight.

You leaned in slightly, propping yourself up on your arm. 

"Esther, it's okay. You can talk to me."

Her gaze flickered back to you, vulnerable and soft. 

"I... I just want to be liked, to be like you."

Your heart swelled. Of course she was so quick to like someone, so desperate to find acceptance. You hadn't asked for any specifics, so you could only imagine what Esther's life was like before coming here. But from what you'd seen, the foster system was harsh and cold. Esther probably felt like she had to earn her love, to fight for attention. And what was a stupid piercing or a tantrum compared to that?

You reached out, pinching her chin and turning Esther so she'd have to look you in the eyes.

"Oh, baby. I don't care what you've heard before - you don't need to change for anyone. You're beautiful no matter what you do because...because you're you."

Her breath seemed to catch, and her eyes locked onto yours with shocking intensity. She seemed to hang on your every word as if they were a lifeline.

"And even if your mom or anyone else doesn't like it, I do!"

"Thank you," she whispered, and something in her voice made the room suddenly feel too hot.

You squirmed, now hyper aware that you were pulling Esther closer to bed with you. She grabbed your hand before you could drop it, squeezing it firmly.

"You're the best, (Y/n)."

Nancy Downs:

A week had passed since your first encounter with Nancy, but the electric tension between you lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and foreboding. You had kept your distance, or tried to, anyway. But the truth was, Nancy had gotten under your skin. Every time the door jangled, your pulse would spike, half expecting her to waltz in with that sharp grin and sharper words.

And today, she did.

Nancy strode in like she owned the place, Rochelle and Bonnie flanking her as always. Her dark eyes found you immediately, and your breath hitched. You pretended to be absorbed in dusting the shelves but couldn't resist peeking at them from the corner of your eye. You knew she'd noticed.

Nancy saunters over to the crystal baskets, her friends following closely. Her eyes meet yours briefly, and you feel that magnetic pull again.

"Looking for something special, ladies?"

Nancy smirks, her lips painted in a dark plum that matches her mood. "Just window shopping," she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You raise an eyebrow. "Don't let me stop you. You might find something that compliments your...style."

Her eyes flash with mischief, and you can't help but feel a shiver down your spine. It's like running your finger along the edge of a razor, exhilarating yet dangerous.

Rochelle and Bonnie exchange knowing glances, clearly anticipating sparks to fly again. You decide to play it cool, relaxing your stance with a casual shrug.

"Whatever happened to the customer is king," Nancy fires back, piercing eyes never leaving yours.

"Oh, he left his crown at home today," you retort. "But there's always room for a queen or two in this kingdom."

Rochelle snickers softly and Bonnie nudges her, a mischievous grin on her face. Nancy's lips curl into a half-smile, the white of her teeth practically glowing against her lipstick.

The moment stretches, the air heavy with unspoken words. You and Nancy are still locked in a stare down, unable to look away, but you can feel Rochelle and Bonnie circling you like sharks.

For a split second, you wonder if this was the plan all along - to corner you like prey. But then Nancy's eyes dart to the side, and her pencil-thin eyebrows pinch uncomfortably.

"Is that so?" Nancy finally replies, her voice softer now. "Guess I'll have to see about that."

With that, she turns on her heels and the three of them march out of the store, Bonnie's fingers brushing against your shoulder. There's no crackle of energy this time, only a deep twist in your gut, and you jump away from her touch.

The Beldam:

You stood there, the phone forgotten in your hand. Fear squeezed your heart with icy fingers. Swallowing hard, you shook off the eerie voice and turned away from the door. You wouldn't surrender without a fight, even as the dread lingered like a suffocating fog.

The next morning, you made up your mind to confront your sister. Their safety was your biggest concern, and you knew you had to get them away from whatever sinister force was at play here.

Your sister was hesitant at first, brushing off your concerns as paranoia. But you persisted, your words laced with urgency and fear. Eventually, she relented, agreeing to leave and find somewhere safe.

But something inside you hesitated, a gnawing worry that the Beldam wouldn't let them go so easily. You knew you had to distract her, to divert her attention away from your loved ones.

Taking a deep breath, you shut the trunk of your sister's car and stepped back when she tried handing you the keys. Your niece watched through the rear window, pouting.

"I'll stay behind," you choked out. Clearing your throat, you tried to sound more sure of yourself. "Make sure everything is in order, you know? You two go on ahead. I'll....catch up."

"What? But..."

"I'll be fine, I promise. Go on, I'll follow after I take care of a few things here."

Your sister hugged you fiercely, her arms warm and reassuring.

"Take care of yourself, okay," she whispered.

You felt her tears dampen your shoulder.

"I will," you promised, blinking back your own tears. "You both be safe, too."

You watched them go with a lump in your throat, your palms clammy, and your breaths shallow. As the car faded into the distance, the space beside you suddenly felt hollow and quiet.

You gripped the old key in your pocket and walked back inside. The air crackled with tension as you stood before the little door, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, a sudden onslaught shattered the stillness - the door trembled violently as something on the other side tried to break free.

THUD-THUD-THUD! THUD-THUD-THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD!

Your eyes widened in terror as you stumbled back, shock and fear gripping you. The door groaned and creaked under the relentless assault, more furious by the second.

CRAAACK!

The wood splintered, each shard a sinister grin in the flickering light. You darted to the side, scrambling away before you got hit.

"Stop," you shouted, but the deafening noise drowned you out.

Through the cracks in the door, you caught a glimpse of those dark button eyes. The Beldam was enraged and shaking the very foundation of the room. But despite her violent efforts, the door remained shut.

"You won't get out," you yelled, voice shaky but loud. "I won this game!"

The Beldam erupted into furious snarls and unearthly shrieks. "You dare defy me?!"

CRASH! BANG! CRACK!

Furniture toppled, and the room trembled. You gripped onto whatever was close, knuckles going white as the world tilted and spun around you.

"You're stuck in there, you psycho!"

She spat venom, "This isn't over! You'll regret this! I'll have my prize!"

The slamming ceased with a final, thunderous thud. You remained frozen in place, eyes glued to the battered door, as your entire body trembled with adrenaline.

The room was dead silent now, just the sound of your shallow breaths filling the air. You knew she'd still trouble, but for now, the Beldam was locked up, her tantrum contained behind that door.