Binding a soul wasn’t much more complicated than binding anything else, as it turned out; not in terms of ingredients, at least. Morgan was able to gather the herbs on her own, mostly foraged, to save her pride at the Eye of Newt, but to adhere as closely to the spell instructions, she braved Vera’s judgmental looks for the last few things. Now it was time to take stock and go over the plan one last time before doing the binding. Morgan felt for the bottle in her bag. Still there. As far as she understood it, just about any vessel that could be marked with the right sigils would do, but using any of the tiny jars she had left from her crafting days made her feel uncomfortable. They seemed so small, keeping someone in there just seemed so...unsafe. And what if she could somehow see Constance staring at her through the glass? The thought made Morgan shudder too much, so she got a nice arcane looking, opaque, ceramic jar.

The day was bright, the kind you painted on a greeting card for fall. Morgan turned at the sound of footsteps, not certain how much she should smile, with Jasmine and Adam at least partially on the fence. But this was a net good for everyone. A bottled ghost was going to kill a lot less people and cause a lot less chaos than a free range one. After they did this, she could figure the rest out on her own if it came to it. Morgan offered a small wave. “Uh, hey?” she offered. “Did you...get everything you needed okay?”

Apparently, Nell was the first back from her little monster hunting excursion. In truth, she would have preferred to still be out gathering spell items for many reasons, but the primary one stemmed from the little guilt monster that was gnawing away at her stomach. Now that she’d talked about exorcising Constance at the first chance possible with both Jasmine and Adam, it was emotionally difficult to sit here and pretend as if everything were still going according to plan, sitting next to Morgan as if nothing had changed and she would still get her revenge. But it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. There’d been multiple occasions in which she’d had to make decisions that her friends wouldn’t like for the benefit of themselves and others. Still...that didn’t mean it got any easier. Nell could only hope that Morgan might be forgiving in the long run, and still want something to do with her at the end of the day. “Yeah, I got them,” she answered as she held up her trophies. “Are the others back, yet?” Taki, her Ovinikk familiar, hadn't been far behind- looking proud as anything while he carried a few grathered herbs between his teeth.

Nell kept her response short, not wanting to say much else when she was caught up in wondering whether or not her and Morgan’s friendship would make it to see the end of the week. “I’m just gonna look over the stuff again, too.” Then she gingerly plopped herself onto the ground next to a basket of herbs, muttering to herself about their quality and picking through them with a careful hand as a means of keeping herself busy, and hopefully safe from too much conversation.

Chickcharney feathers, a catalyst for the curse. The larynx of an Aravo to bind their voice. The pelt of an Aufhocker to weigh them down to earth. A heart burst by a Carach’s fractoxtin to remind them of heartbreak. The exoskeleton of a Dearoile, to echo their life’s pain. A bone from a Gashadokura slain a century ago, to rekindle memories of fleshly deprivation A Valravn skull medallion, a symbol of death as the inescapable devourer.

Adam entered and began to place these cheery trophies of several weeks hunting in their assigned places, thoughts heavy with the twisted moral balance of what was about to transpire.

There had been no doubt in her mind that Jasmine was doing what was necessary. Whatever grudge Morgan had against this ghost mattered very little in the big scheme of things. Her ingredients had been more or less easy to gather. A mix of herbs and different salts. She was never without iron flakes and rods either. Once she had made it back to their meeting spot, she mentally began envisioning where she could lay out a salt circle. It wasn’t entirely necessary for a typical banishment, but it made things easier. Even if she had any intention of playing along with this whole binding the ghost until Morgan found a way to torture her, she’d be taking these same precautions. It all lined up with what they were doing here, just instead of Nell doing the binding, she’s simply banish Constance. Whether or not she deserved worse would be up to whatever cosmic power she faced after being thrown out of this plane. “It sounds like we’re ready then,” she said as she contemplated laying out a circle. She turned to Nell with a knowing look in her eye, “So, when are we doing this? Did we want to go ahead and knock this out before anyone else is hurt?

Constance didn’t feel at home in the manor. The walls reminded her too much of the ones she had dusted and cleaned for the Bachmans, and the environment was so unmoving save for spare objects that were fiddled with and tossed by spirits. Constance preferred to take them out to the woods where the oaks grew tall and remembered everything, even her. Or to the lake, veiled in mist and shining waters. “And did you know!” She cried, turning to Nancy trailing behind her in strange garb that had come into fashion after her death. “I taught her everything she knew about magic. Her mother was a beastly woman with no talent in her right fingernail, doing charms I had managed practically with my intuition. I gave Agnes the keys to the kingdom of the gods, which makes me the reason that tiny, ugly cow Morgan could tap into any of her magic at all. But, oh! The raptures we would find in these woods. They weren’t half so thick, and we felt so fearless and bold hiding here and--”

The sound of other voices made her stop and drift up into the trees. She had gotten better at this now, having so many ghosts to practice with and help her along. Most of the faces were familiar. Morgan, of course, tramping her muddy boots through her woods. The girl from the summoning. The boy from the classroom. And then some other woman, but if she was in league with the others, then she couldn’t be any more trustworthy. She hovered in the soggy gold and red of autumn leaves still hanging on, knowing that Morgan could see her always. There were strange things being passed, salt, herbs, some runes she recognized, and a jar.

“Those cruel, treasonous fiends,” Constance hissed. Did Blanche know about this? Was she just biding her time, placating Constance until this very moment, when she might be trapped forever? Or until such time as a suitable punishment could be given? As if being stripped of her liberty, of everything but her consciousness wasn’t punishment enough. “Nancy,” Constance whispered. “You said we could play a game today, right?”

Morgan wrapped Nell into a quick hug. “Thanks, Nell,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” She nodded to the others, smiling tensely. They weren’t thrilled to be here, that much was obvious, and she wasn’t sure if any kind of thanks would smack with passive aggression she didn’t intend. “It looks like we’re gonna be all set, and the town is going to get a lot safer once we’re done and she’s all tucked a-- fuck. Nell, get down!”

Morgan grabbed the young witch and shielded her with her body as she saw Constance come soaring out of the trees. And this time, she wasn’t alone. Her iron rod was at her hip, she could give her a good whack or two and be done, but she couldn’t leave Nell vulnerable, and there was Adam and Jasmine to consider. “Okay, uh--new plan!” She screeched. “We get some salt lines down and nobody dies today, how about that?”

With the waking nightmares gone, the ghosts had also returned to their normal state of invisible. As it were Nell would have had not a single clue that Constance or Nancy had appeared if it weren’t for Morgan and Taki. Blindly following Morgan’s command, she ducked— hoping that whatever she was dodging might simply fly over her. It took a moment for Nell to make the connection between salt and spirit, and then she could only assume that it was Constance who had come for them. “Is it her? Constance?” she asked both Jasmine and Morgan. Taki’s fur had bristled into an enormous ball of fluff the moment the ghosts had appeared, hissing and spitting in disgust as the spirits approached. Remembering that last time Taki had met Constance at the ghost’s summoning and how it had ended with the familiar in the pet hospital, Nell instinctively picked up the dog-sized cat. Shit- they needed salt like Morgan had said. Focusing her magic for a split second, Nell Summoned the table salt from home, a blue canister blinking into existence in her hand. Then another appeared in her other palm, and Nell silently thanked Bea for sometimes buying in bulk. “Here!” she called before tossing the salt container to Adam. Hastily, she began to draw her salt circle, first using it to encompass the spell ingredients. Losing them would be too much of a set back to risk.

In another town, if people just started freaking out for no visible reason and tossed him salt, Adam might have questions, concerns even. However Adam was becoming accustomed to weird improv game that invisible spookums entailed that he just caught the salt contained and got to work putting circles around the important stuff.  

This was all happening more quickly than Jasmine could have anticipated. As a familiar chill ran over her, she felt her whole body tense. No, not now. Not while Nell was here and she didn’t even have a proper circle yet on the ground. This was less than ideal, but she could make do without the circle if it was just a simple banishment. Minimal distractions would be needed so she had to trust Nell and Adam could hold down the fort if Morgan threw a fit about what she had to do. Once she actually caught a glimpse of the ghost, her mouth dropped. Even if she never planned on going through with the torture, it was still shocking that she wanted to torture an actual kid. “Seriously,” she shot a glare at Morgan, “How old is this ghost? Sixteen? You want to torture a teenager?”

She shook her head and didn’t need any further motivation to push forward with the exorcism as planned. It hardly mattered to her whether or not Morgan approved of the decision. “Nell, stay back and keep everyone away,” she directed as she took her place in the room. A haphazard salt circle was laid out on the floor and she stood directly outside as she began the familiar incantation she followed for banishment rituals. The air was whipping around them, but she knew she could do this. It was only a banishment, she just needed Morgan to stay away. She could feel the familiar bolt of energy going through her as she spoke the words. Her eyes remained on Constance who was getting pulled closer toward the circle as she chanted. She could feel the fight in her, but this was the kindest outcome for her.

“Fucking Stars, she’s nineteen and a few centuries! How is that important right now!” Morgan screamed. She wasn’t going to make Constance into Jasmine’s problem. She would find her own exorcist, and maybe a plan B or C just in case they crapped out on her. Morgan was pulling Nell back to the Subaru. She was trying to shield her with her body and fish out her salt at the same time. “Salt outside the car and get inside, okay?” She turned to Adam, pointing furiously at the car, “Stuff is replaceable, you are no--!” She didn’t quite finish, because the roar in the air grew quiet and she heard Jasmine--chanting? Morgan whirled. “What are you doing? That’s not the binding, what the hell is that?”

A burst of force knocked her to the ground and dragged her through the salted earth until her head collided with a tree. It happened so fast, Morgan’s vision blurred. She grimaced, reaching for the salt pistol clumsily to her belt when she looked up and saw… some 1950’s barbie with a snapped neck. “Who the fuck are you?”

Constance screamed to the heavens. At last her body held some gravity, but it wasn’t binding her to the earth. She was being dragged towards a circle. She didn’t need to see its sigils to know it would mean her end. “Nancy!” She screamed. The leaves rose from the ground at her cry, the trees trembled. Control. A strong spirit was like a strong witch; she needed control.

All the herbs and magic playthings Morgan’s brood had gathered froze in the air, and with them, the two bodies not protected by Blanche Harlow’s words. She did not see Nancy lift her concentration, much stronger and better practiced than her own, to do likewise, nor how she approached the circle to take her place. There was an evil scream from Morgan, then the world shattered and bodies flew.

As Morgan tugged her towards the car, Nell did her best to wrestle from her grip, not keen in the least to let Jasmine and Morgan take the brunt of whatever it was the ghosts had come to accomplish. “I’m not gonna hide in the car!” she refused, though her indignance was also cut short as the exorcist began her ritual. Would Morgan retaliate? Try to stop Jasmine from doing her job? The witch wouldn’t get an answer as an invisible force threw her backwards along with the others. She landed roughly, arms scraped open by the assorted twigs and rocks of the forest floor when she’d tried to catch herself in a roll, trying to shield Taki from ricocheting off the ground as well. It was then that she officially decided that fighting ghosts was the single worst thing in the world and all its realms to go up against. How was she supposed to stab something she couldn’t see? She couldn’t even stab them to begin with. With a frustrated growl she rose from where she’d landed, wincing as her body protested the movement. The Ovinikk leapt from her arms, making a beeline towards the ghost named Nancy before erupting in an angry and thunderous dog’s bark, doing his best to ward off the spirit. Following his line of sight, Nell plucked the salt canister from where it had landed before blindly tossing its contents in the direction of the familiar’s barks, hoping it might miraculously find a hit.

Not for the first time, Adam found himself sprinting as things he couldn’t see turned his surroundings into an obstacle course. Autumn leaves were a dry whirlwind of red and gold as uncontrolled telekinesis and the sacred energies of exorcism caught everything in spiritual turbulence. Bowls and canisters shattered, sending shrapnel of glass and pottery zipping through the supernatural gale. The contradictory smells of pungent herbs and the frigid sterility of fall wind filled Adam’s nostrils as he booked it towards where the cars were parked, trying to not get pulverized as he ran across the grove.

Trying to pry off the windborn leaves that kept getting plastered against his eyes and mouth, Adam knelt by the closest car and started slating a circle around it. Adam’s world spun a bit as a stray herb bowl hurled from out of ritual space and shattered against the back of his neck. The ex-Hunter blinked flaring white spots from his vision and ignored the trickle of hot warmth down the back of his back.

His eyes cleared enough to see Morgan get flung against the tree with a blunt cracking sound.

Shit...well um, least she was already dead right?

Then Morgan started asking more nonexistent people who they were.

...that’s not good

How quickly things could spiral out of control wasn’t entirely new to Jasmine though it was different when it was just her and a ghost. Knowing how close Nell and this Adam kid were only steeled her sense of determination. The kids weren’t getting hurt on her watch even if it meant having to go up against two ghosts on her own. She laid more salt down and kept her eyes firmly between Constance and Nancy as she yelled out, “Nell, Adam. Car now. Morgan, not now. I keep the ghosts from killing us and you get the kids out of here.” There wasn’t time for Morgan to fight her on this. Constance was undeniably strong and her friend seemed to have been practiced, too. It was inconveniently her friend that was now bound to the circle as the air whipped around them at an impossible speed. Jasmine dug her heels in the dirt to try and stabilize herself against the whirlwind happening around her, but found she found herself floating in the air alongside Morgan and all the items they’d gathered.

The howls of air swirling were hard to shout over especially with no stable ground beneath her feet and Constance’s shriek still ringing in her ears. She had to keep pushing if any of them were going to make it out of this. Nancy was bound to the circle and it didn’t seem like Constance was going to join anytime soon. They couldn’t fight off both of them and Jasmine felt the fear creep up on her. Making the hair on her arms stand on end and added to the dizziness she was feeling from above the ground. Her words weren’t steady as she was whipped around, but not a syllable was missed. Right now, getting rid of one ghost would have to do as she kept going with the banishment ritual she knew like the back of her hand.

After what felt like an eternity, her chants drew to a close and Nancy simply disappeared forever. It’s what she wanted to do with Constance, but she already felt entirely too drained to perform another banishment. The floating in the air only furthered the feeling of unsteadiness, until she was no longer in the air. It was all very sudden after Nancy was gone that she found herself being thrown into the tree. The crack of bone against wood was enough to make her nauseated and she let out a pained shout as pain shot through her left arm. “Bitch,” she screamed knowing she had little else to stand on and her iron rod was too far away for her to grab in her condition.

Constance saw it all and yet was powerless to do a thing. The gravity on her body ebbed, all the energy she’d been pouring into fleeing sprang back and she shot into the trees, watching from the branches as Nancy disappeared without so much as an ‘I’m sorry.’ A thought came to her as lightning: this cruel departure had always been Nancy’s plan. If not to use her as a bridge off this miserable world so she need not bear pretending to care, then to grant Constance more time. Either way, she was utterly abandoned. Was this the so-called pleasure of lifting her gaze to anything beyond her one wish?

“You monster!” She screamed, flinging herself back down to the ground. She reached for the woman’s bent arm, as if she could will herself solid and snap it like so many twigs. The trees screamed with her as she wailed. To think she had ever considered Morgan’s friends worth sparing, that to be direct and careful was the only and best way to fulfill the fate she had written. Not anymore, maybe not ever. Constance wanted to burn it all, and for their remorse to be written on every human face as too little, too late.

Bang. A salt round fired through Constance and exploded into the trunk of a tree. The ghost turned just in time to see who had done it. Her mouth opened to scream just as she dissipated. Morgan stood crooked and seething as her spine knit itself back together. Her pistol dangled lip in her fingers. “You’re welcome,” she growled. “Now please explain to me what the hell was going on with that. You could have just taken her with iron, with literally anything else…” The last of her vertebrae snapped into place and she was able to look around. The herbs, irrevocable. Jar, smashed. Hides and fluids, destroyed. If Constance was going to be bound out of trouble, they would need to start from scratch. But there was something else that nagged at her worse. For a moment that had gone so completely off the rails, there was a serious lack of surprise and confusion among her friends. A lot of the attention was on her, and it didn’t seem like the ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘we’ll try again’ variety. “What’s going on…?”

Once the winds had returned to normal, and Morgan stopped shooting at thin air, Nell presumed the coast was clear. Crouching next to Jasmine, she took in the awkward angle the exorcist’s arm had been broken into, grimacing in sympathetic pain. “We gotta get you to the hospital.” Then as an afterthought— “You have insurance, right?” She wasn’t about to willingly lead someone else to thousands of dollars in debt. Jasmine’s injury had sparked the fire of worry in Nell’s belly, but Morgan’s question ignited it into a full blown flame, guilt beginning to pool. “I agreed...that Constance should be gotten rid of if the moment presented itself.” She was used to taking the fall with her sisters, so it came naturally to try and focus the blame on herself in this situation as well. Besides, it only felt right when she’d essentially betrayed the trust of her friend. It was true that Nell had never promised against exorcising Constance, but she’d also agreed to helping Morgan do it her way, and the two paths weren’t all that conducive. “I’m sorry,” she replied reflexively, not knowing what else to say.

It was becoming increasingly more apparent to Jasmine that Morgan hardly had her priorities straight. She was injured and others had been put in danger’s way yet her biggest worry was the fact she tried to get rid of said dangerous ghost without torturing her. Not to mention the ghost was practically a child. None of it sat well with her and she found anger boiling over in her. “What do you mean what the hell was I doing? In case you didn’t notice, we had a ghostly tag team try to kill us? Or did you not notice my extremely broken arm here… which, hey, kind of your fault for not wanting to handle this in an even remotely responsible way. A cast is going to clash with literally my entire wardrobe,” she huffed out as she tried to gesture to her broken arm but failed as she winced in pain. She shot Nell a look, “Nell, you don’t have to take the blame for this. I would have tried to get rid of the murderous ghost with or without your approval. That’s literally why I have these powers to begin with.” She quickly looked back to Morgan and rolled her eyes, “Look, I get you’re pissed and have your whole torture revenge thing, but your feelings aren’t more important than people’s lives. Which should be glaringly obvious.”

“I dissipated Constance in two seconds and I could’ve done the same with vintage Barbie too! We could have finished this just fine!” Morgan snapped. “And if you didn’t notice, I was protecting the kids while you were busy doing some kind of banishment instead of walking them into thin air!” But there was something more, something worse, and it made Morgan deflate and back away from them all. What did Nell mean by ‘agreed’ to do something in the ‘moment.’ Morgan played back all of their last conversations, searching for the time when Nell had said, sorry Morgan, but no, I think this is bullshit. She’d posed some questions, she was afraid of there being more collateral damage than there needed to be, but she never said she didn’t want to. She’d said she would help Morgan. They’d talked about what was happening to her powers. Hot chocolate. Movies. Her mom. Everything but stepping out of this. “If we had just stuck to the plan, no one else would have gotten hurt,” she said, her voice trembling with shock. “Which apparently doesn’t matter to either of you, but don’t throw your choices on me like I don’t give a shit.”  She searched for Adam in the midst of them. “What about you? After all the times I said you didn’t need to do anything you didn’t want to. Was this your idea too?”

“Nope,” Adam stated with blunt honesty as he stepped out of the salt circle and walked to the back of his car. He popped the trunk up with a click and the footballer’s head vanished into the cargo space. Some clicking and unlatching sounds were followed by Adam remerging with a tan military medic’s kit slung over one shoulder.

Adam crossed the rubble-strewn ritual space, tennis shoes crunching on pottery shards and autumnal leaves. He took a knee by the ladies and unzipped the tactical med kit with the purposeful calm of someone used to tending to grizzly battlefield wounds.

He produced a tincture of watery translucent goo with the depiction of a grotesque goblinoid creature with a distended barracuda-like jaw and bone claws on the label. “You’ll want some of this for the pain,” Adam said to his companions offering them the anesthetic tincture of reified Rawhead salvia and a stopper. “Only a drop or two though, else you’ll get muscle paralysis and shit yourself,” he explained with that gentle bedside manner Hunters were famous for.

Adam furthered purposed a splint and bandages for Jasmine, along with the more sutures, gauze, and antibacterials for everyone’s general lacerations.

“Honestly Beck, I was just gonna stab you in the spine and hold Miss Hale at gunpoint till she exorcised Ginger Casper normally,” Adam admitted, speaking of assault and threats in an amiably conversational tone. “But it looks like they’d worked out something smarter than that already.”

Jasmine could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin despite the lightheadedness she was feeling. Between blood loss and banishing Nancy, she found herself pretty zapped in the blood sugar department. As much didn’t stop her from glaring at Morgan, “I told Nell to go to safety so there was no chance for either of them to hurt anyone ever again.” Her voice was getting weaker, but fire was pushing her nonetheless. “You’re going to end up just like them on your whole revenge path.”

She eyed Adam as he tried to give her something for the pain. Her eyes narrowed and she asked, “Uhm, what the hell is that?” The mention of shitting herself was enough to make her wary of it, but if he was going to insist on patching her up she figured she better use it. It only served to make her more woozy as he went on and everything felt like it was spinning.

It was difficult to brace herself even with the numbness though Adam’s genius plan was enough to make her eyes widen. “Excuse me?” This kid was going to force her to perform an exorcism at gunpoint? “You were going to what?” She moved away as he had already placed the splint and muttered, “Ugh, you know what. Not a priority. Do you have a driver’s license? I’d like to see a real doctor and I can’t exactly drive like this.”

The entire situation had quickly dissolved into a shit show, and Nell wasn’t sure where to begin with Jasmine and Morgan. The witch didn’t have a defense for the choices she’d made other than the fact that she hadn’t wanted more unneeded innocent blood being shed on the path to ending Constance. And though Adam was doing his best to patch up what he could, it seemed that Jasmine wasn’t all that fond of possibly being made to complete an exorcism at gunpoint. Which was...fair enough. Nell wasn’t a mediator. She was better at creating tense situations than resolving them- especially when there was no common enemy to point anyone towards. The only way she knew out of a situation like this was to focus on an end task, and try to get the others to do that as well. “Let’s just get Jasmine more medical care,” she repeated, assuming the exorcist had already remembered that Nell didn’t have a car license. Latching onto the woman’s uninjured arm, she began to try and guide her towards Adam’s car.

The choice of whether or not to look at Morgan was one that took Nell a long pause to make, trying to decide if she wanted to see the hurt and disappointment that she was sure to find there. This was why she’d done her best to avoid the woman ever since she’d made her decision to get rid of Constance by whatever means were fastest. Ripping off the bandaid hurt less if the wound beneath it already had the chance to scab over. Finally she found Morgan’s eyes, knowing it was the coward’s choice not to face the consequences of her actions. But now what? What could she possibly say that would do any good to either of them? She wasn’t sorry for trying to get rid of Constance, even now. It was the right thing to do— minimizing collateral damage. The only regret she has was that of hurting her friend. “We should go,” was all she could settle on.