Abracadabra [2011]

[Dreamchild]

Abracadabra
Written by Joseph Label
Based on characters created by The Walt Disney Company and Studio Ghibli

Prologue
Salem, Massachusetts. 1693. All Hallows Eve
Come, little children
I’ll take thee away
Into a land of enchantment

Come, little children
The time’s come to play
Here in my garden of magic

A haggard, old woman allowed a hypnotized little girl to enter a dilapidated cottage. The woman was very old, her gray hair thick and unkempt. Her facial structure was vertical and narrow, and even in her old age she had a prominent chin, with a hairy mole on the right side. As she allowed the girl to enter the cottage first, she eyed the child with a cruel grin, and she licked her rancid, yellow teeth.

Both entered the modest cottage. The old woman, whose purple cloak with a pointed hood covered most of her body, locked the door behind her, and then heard a bird chirping just outside the opened window. She approached the window and smiled invitingly to the bird, and held out a lone, bony finger for said bird to perch on. It did, and the delicate creature tweeted melodically. The old woman, named Sarah, gently stroked the side of the bird’s head with her thumb, moaning femininely. Then she snapped the bird’s neck with that same thumb, cackled giddily, and threw the dead bird behind her, over her shoulder.

Two other old, similarly haggard women forced the spellbound girl onto a chair. The heavyset woman with a sideways mouth felt something strike her back. Upon learning that the youngest of the three hags threw a bird’s corpse at her, the plump woman, named Mary, picked up said bird and placed it on a counter. “‘Tis food for later!” Mary’s cloak was similar to Sarah’s, except her preferred color was red.

The eldest of the three sisters, Winifred, and in a green cloak, was too distracted by the little girl to care about some bird. She ran the backside of her long, sharp fingernails against the girl’s cheek and grinned. The most distinguishing feature on her face was her very large, protruding buck teeth, which resembled a rabbit’s.

“Hello, little one,” Winifred said to the little girl. The child’s eyes were wide and lacked pupils, which proved that Sarah was a dependable siren.
The child was stripped of her senses. She was just a puppet, waiting to be manipulated. She was very still, and made no attempt to escape her predicament. “Thank you for… volunteering,” said Winifred. Her eyes crinkled as a chuckle filled her throat.

The sound of the ceaseless bubbling of the sisters’ large cauldron returned Winifred to her task. She swiftly approached her most prized possession: a large, disturbingly-crafted book with a closed eyelid on the right side. “Wake up, my darling,” she affectionately said to the book, with the same loving tenderness a crazy cat lady shows to her favorite feline. “We have to finish our spell…” The book’s eyelid quivered and slowly lifted to reveal a large eyeball with a green iris. “Oh, hello, my darling! There you are!”

Winifred’s attitude flipped completely. “Mary!”

Mary immediately knew what was to be done. “Coming, Winnie!” She took an oversized, wooden ladle and stirred the heinous contents of the cauldron. As she stirred she glared accusingly at Sarah. “I notice sister Sarah isn’t helping.”

Sarah glared back and leaned forward, her face contorting into an immature pout. “I lured the child here!”

An annoyed Winifred tugged Mary’s closest ear. “Leave her be, Mary! Sarah hath done her chore!”

Mary moaned in pain and returned to the cauldron timidly as soon as Winifred released her grip. “You’re right! I’m wrong!” But the red-clothed witch barked (literally) at Sarah anyway, and the latter hissed defensively.

Winifred’s eyes swelled in anticipation, her focus solely on her book. She flicked her hands in the air as gracefully as an old bag could manage. The book snapped open, and its pages fluttered in blinding speed, until it stopped conveniently on the page Winifred sought for. “Sisters, ‘tis time!” She trailed her index finger’s nail along the page’s contents, reciting aloud. “Bring to a full rolling bubble. Add two drops of oil and boil.” Mary added the ingredients to the cauldron as her elder sister announced them. “Mix blood of owl with the herb that’s red. Turn three times, pluck a hair from thy head. Add a dash of pox and a dead man’s toe.” Winifred grinned to her sisters. “Add a dead man’s toe, and make it a fresh one!”

Sarah squealed and hopped around the cauldron in joyous song and dance. “Dead man’s toe! Dead man’s toe, add a dead man’s toe! Dead, dead, dead, dead-dead-dead-dead!”

Mary was the witch who retrieved the toe from the pantry. She brought the severed toe to her upper lip and inhaled it admiringly, before dropping it into the cauldron. “Fresh one!” On her way back to the pantry, she playfully tossed another severed toe at Sarah, an act that started a ‘toe war’ between the two. They both giggled as they hurled toes and fingers from the pantry at each other, until one such toe landed on Winifred’s shoulder.

Winifred brushed off the toe and scowled at her foolish siblings. “Will you two stop that?! I need to concentrate!”

“Sorry, Winnie,” the two sisters whined simultaneously.

Eventually, the cauldron was ready for the final ingredient. “Sisters!” Winifred’s voice fluctuated. “Gather ‘round!” She continued when the trio huddled around the cauldron. “One thing more and all is done. Add a bit of thine own tongue.” In unison, the three sisters bit small chunks of their tongues and spat them into the brew, and immediately the cauldron hissed and the potion turned a light shade of green. The liquid became illuminant, and Mary marveled over the creation.

“Oh, Winnie! Thou art divine!”

Winifred grinned maniacally. “‘Tis ready for tasting! One drop of this and her life will be all mine!” Mary and Sarah made a quizzical look at their oldest sister, who immediately corrected herself. “I mean ours! Ours!”

Sarah squirmed in excitement, clenching her hands into fists. “Oh, let’s do it!”

Winifred took the oversized wooden ladle and scooped up a hefty amount of the potion. The three wicked hags approached the girl, not wasting a moment. “All right, girl,” Winifred growled. “Open up your mouth.”

Sarah and Mary stood by the hypnotized girl’s sides and held her mouth open. Winifred forced the liquid into the child’s mouth, and the girl obediently swallowed. Soon her skin brightened eerily, and illuminated like a flickering candle. Her body appeared ghostly, but was still tangible—a truly magical and eerie sensation. But this sensation was second nature to evil witches.

Winifred tossed back the ladle, but her eyes remained on the doomed girl. “Ahhhh… ‘Tis her life force, sisters. The potion works! Take my hands, we shall share her.”

Mary and Sarah chortled as each took one of their eldest sister’s hands. “Oh, Winnie, how generous of thee,” complimented Mary.

The threesome stepped closer to the girl and started to inhale her life force through their mouths, making obnoxious sucking noises through their lips. Mary belched after devouring a hefty amount of life force. By draining the girl’s life force, they murdered her in the process; her skin gradually wrinkled as she aged rapidly and unnaturally. Most of her teeth fell out of her mouth in her aging, and her brown hair lengthened and turned a grayish white. When her life force was completely drained, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she hunched forward, collapsing roughly to the floor, instantly dead.

The witches were too elated to notice the mess that the murdered child made. And even if they did notice it, they wouldn’t have cared. Winifred took a mirror and was pleased with her reflection. “Sisters, behold!”

Sarah threw back her cloak and ran her fingers through her healthy, long, blond hair. She had changed from an old hag to a sexually attractive young woman. She wore a self-made bodice with long sleeves attached. The bodice was very tight fitting, and pushed up her breasts to form a large cleavage. Under her top she wore a long but tight-fitting skirt, but the skirt was not connected to her top, and so part of her midriff was visible, especially whenever she lifted her arms over her head. “I am beautiful!” Sarah erupted. “Boys will love me!” Her facial structure was still thin and vertical, almost like a horse, yet she still somehow managed to be sexy. Her skin was pale white, and she had a beauty mark on the right side of her chin.

Mary also examined herself in the mirror. She was overweight, but not quite obese. Her dress was more modest than Sarah’s, but nevertheless Mary’s dress revealed much of her cleavage, especially whenever she bent over, or brought her arms together (but she had a large bust because of her weight, anyway). Her clothes were different shades of red and was a full dress, with the skirt attached to the top. She had a black mole on her right cheek line and three tiny moles on left side of her face, which almost resembled a constellation. The first mole started on her left cheek, and the third was just before the left side of her chin. The second mole was between the two. But Mary’s most distinguishable facial trait was her deeply red lips that were tugged to the right. Her sideways mouth was especially noticeable any time she smiled or spoke. Her black yet nearly purple hair resembled a twisty cornucopia. “We’re young!” she beamed. She laughed the way she always laughed: very wheezy, with harshness in her breath instead of an actual normal giggle.

Winifred was the least thrilled. She examined her face on the mirror. Her two front teeth remained ludicrously huge, and protruded from under her upper lip even when her mouth was closed. She had no eyebrows, and only the center of her lips were red (the rest of her lips were pale). Her hair was large and puffy, and reddish orange. She was also pale like her sisters, but her cheeks were noticeably pink. Winifred’s clothes were mostly green and purple, as well as the most intricate of the sisters. Her purple dress was tight fitting and with gold lacing. On top of her dress was a green overcoat with long, flowing fabrics attached to her sleeves. Her coat had elaborate gold stitching and designs all over. All three witches had jewelry in the forms of necklaces and rings.
“Well, younger.” Winifred’s sour mood soon passed and triumph sprang forth. “But, it’s a start! Hahahaha!”

The three revitalized sisters joined hands and spiraled in a slow, merry dance. “Oh, Winifred, thou art a mere sprig of a girl!” said Mary.

“Liar!” replied Winifred. “But I shall be a sprig forever, once I suck out the life of all the children in Salem!”

Their joy was short lived, because there came a loud and violent pounding on their door. Then all of their windows were filled with a bright orange; behind the windows burned the torches of Salem’s denizens. But even the flames couldn’t rival the burning hatred the townspeople had for these witches.

“Open!”

“Witches!”

“Daughters of darkness!”

“Open this door!”

Windows were shattered by rocks, and the door was practically being torn off its hinges. The townspeople obviously intended to kill the witches. Why the sisters weren’t already pursued and hanged, no one could say.

“Quick!” Winifred gasped. “Hide the child!” Mary covered the deceased girl with a dusty blanket, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. The threesome ran to the door and called out to the angry villagers outside. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist!” Winifred shouted harshly. “We are just three kindly, old spinster ladies!”

Mary continued the charade. “Spending, uh, a quiet evening at home!”

Sarah instantly blew what little cover they had. “Sucking the lives out of little children!”

Winifred growled and strangled her youngest sister, just before the door tore off completely.



“Winifred Sanderson!” shouted the Puritan. He clutched the Holy Bible tightly, his knuckles white from his grip. He trembled in sheer anger.

Winifred, however, was nonchalant and feigned innocence. “Yes?” She and her sisters had nooses affixed around their necks. Their hands were bound, and as the subjects of a public execution, they were just a moment away from death. The safety of the barrels they stood on would only provide comfort for just another minute. How embarrassing, Winifred thought, to be hanged on her favorite dead tree, in front of her own home!

“Thou and thy sisters have slain a child,” continued the holy man.

“We did?” Winifred pretended to gasp. Sarah giggled.

“And thou hast devoured her life. Her mother and father, present, wish to know.” He gestured to the devastated couple, who held each other and sobbed profusely. “Why hast thou done thy deed?”

Winifred feigned sympathy to the deceased girl’s parents. “Oh, she was thy daughter? I’m sorry… if thou came earlier, we would have shared! She was quite sumptuous!”

The sisters erupted in cackle, complimenting a roar of thunder high above.

The holy man trembled even more. His eyes burned with contempt, and he was more than ready to call for the death of Salem’s worst sisters. “Hast thou any last words?”

“Yes,” Sarah said giddily. She moved her head around, trying to scratch her neck. “This is terribly uncomfortable.”

“Sisters,” Winifred said, “sing. Ah…”

“Ah…” joined Sarah.

“Ah…” Mary sang. The three formed an eerie harmony. “Thrice I with mercury purify, and spit upon the twelve tables.” The sisters spat in three directions as the angry mob shrieked and covered their ears.

“Listen to them not!” cried an anthropomorphic Puritan duck. Ducks were the most common anthropomorphic animals in Salem.

A young boy carrying Winifred’s book released his grip in order to cover his ears. The book plopped on the ground and snapped open, quickly turning to the page that would assist the Sanderson sisters: spells to resurrect the dead.

“Ah!” Winifred exhaled in excitement. “Fools, all of you!” She eyed the angry mob before her, addressing all of them. “My ungodly book speaks to you! On All Hallows Eve, when the moon is round, a virgin will summon us from under the ground! Listen well! We shall be back! And the lives of all the children will be mine! Ahahahahaha!”

The thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed, as the sisters cackled victoriously. They continued laughing until the barrels were released, and the Sanderson sisters dropped. Their necks snapped instantly, and they dangled and swayed. The witches’ shoes, Winifred’s green and black-striped stockings, Sarah’s bare legs, and Mary’s black stockings were a better sight than the vacant expressions on their dead faces.

After that night, the Sanderson sisters were continually discussed, but over the centuries—like many legends—they were claimed by many to be an urban legend, or a myth. Their possessions were preserved and exhibited in their cottage, which eventually became a museum, remarkably. But in time, only a few genuinely believed that the possessions were legitimate, and that the sisters really existed. To many, the Sanderson sisters and the legend surrounding them was just a bunch of hocus pocus.

Part I

Epcot City, Calisota. Present. Halloween

Alice Liddell was thirteen-years-old on that Halloween night. On the surface, Alice seemed to be a prim and kindly British girl. She had lived in England for most of her life, but moved to Epcot City at the age of twelve to attend the prestigious St. Blair Academy. She returned home to her family on occasion, mostly during the summer, but for the most part she made new friends in Calisota, and spent most of her free time with them. But her friends were not ordinary and in St. Blair: Alice was secretly a member of the Dream League. Her alias was Dreamchild, and she was one of the founding members (though not the leader). She was one of the youngest human members of the team, but she was psychically-inclined and tremendously powerful in that regard. But she wasn’t Dreamchild tonight. This was her night to be a kid, before it became too late to act like one. Alice tried to act like a polite lady most of the time, but she was content to spend one night of the year acting upon indulgence. Besides, Alice very rarely got a chance to have fun with Halloween. Halloween is not a big deal in the United Kingdom at all, and she envied Americans for having such a truly fun holiday. And, of course, there was the candy.

That night, Alice was dressed like a little Sunshine. From the pink mask down to the pink boots, she looked almost uncannily like a younger Ray of Hope. Of course, Alice’s hair was much smoother and straighter than Sunshine’s golden, curvy tresses. Alice was still very young, but she was nevertheless in the process of becoming an attractive teenager. She had naturally red lips, a pleasant face, and deeply blue eyes that complimented her yellow hair. Her cuteness complimented her heavy English accent; she really was a young lady.

The Halloween-costumed Alice, holding her nearly full trick-or-treat bag, walked beside one of her best friends, Briar Rose. “Thank you so much for agreeing to join me, Rose! I know I thanked you before, but I’m really grateful.”

Briar Rose was just one of Princess Aurora’s pseudonyms. The sexually attractive yet extraordinarily humble girl of eighteen was the princess of the faraway, hidden kingdom of Eyvindria, and heir to the throne. With permission from her monarchal parents, she temporarily left her kingdom to use her powers for good, under the alias Sunshine. She ended up in Epcot City and remained, when she realized just how corrupted and amoral most of the city was. Of course, her Halloween costume was the least moral dress she had ever worn.

She was dressed like Marilyn Monroe. She was in a very flowing white dress that shimmered in the light, and its skirt billowed under as little as a puff of wind. Briar Rose’s hair was stylized like Monroe’s, too. She still had her distinctive bangs on the right side of her forehead and a large curl on the left, but the rest of her hair was fastened upright in Monroe’s style. Her willowy, shapely body complimented the dress very nicely.

Truth be told, this costume was not Sunshine’s idea. She normally disliked appearing so promiscuous in public. But Donald Duck insisted that she would love the costume, and because she liked Marilyn Monroe anyway (she was one of Briar Rose’s favorite actresses), it wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. Briar Rose later acknowledged that, yes, she actually felt happy in the costume… strangely happy. And when Briar Rose considered how so many women in America seemed to enjoy dressing more scandalous on Halloween (to the point of absurdity), she didn’t feel so out of place. Maybe Halloween was just an excuse to act naughtier?

Briar Rose, with her fake beauty mark and fake diamond earrings, smiled warmly down to one of her best friends in the whole world. “You’re welcome, Alice! I’m having fun.” Briar Rose, standing five feet and ten inches tall in high heels, was considerably taller than the five-foot-three-inches Alice.

“It’s a shame America seems to think you’re too old to trick-or-treat,” said Alice. She intended to mean that out of sympathy, but she regretted phrasing it that way, feeling rude.

Briar Rose shook her head, continuing to smile. “Oh, no, I don’t mind.” She playfully winked. “As long as you’re willing to share the candy, I don’t mind at all.”

Alice chuckled and then noticed that their friend, San, was lagging behind. She called over her shoulder. “San?”

“I’m here,” San replied. One of the moodier and distant members of the Dream League, San Hisaishi was a short Japanese-American woman, aged nineteen, standing five feet, three inches tall (matching Alice). What she lacked in height she made up for in combat. After witnessing the murder of her parents at a young age, a traumatized San fled to the vast forest neighboring the city, and was raised by the wolf gods of Calisota. (Epcot County, by freakish coincidence, had pretty much everything in it.) She was raised to be the ferocious defender of nature, She-Wolf. She eventually joined the Dream League, though she was cold and distant for a long time. She-Wolf and Dreamchild used to dislike each other, but over time their relationship evolved from antagonists to tolerated companions, and then, finally, to friends. Conversely, She-Wolf had always respected Sunshine, ever since the latter saved the former’s life (coincidentally, that was their first meeting).

On this Halloween night, San was pretty much forced to wear a stupid costume, just because Alice begged enough. San didn’t care what costume it would be and allowed Alice to choose. The latter chose the hero of one of her favorite movies, The Never Ending Story. As a result, San was a female Atreyu. She complimented the brown, leathery, Native Americanesque costume nicely with her exotic facial traits. Her Atreyu costume, of course, was altered to cover her whole body, and not have a large V-cut like in the original movie. Her costume was topped off with a sheathed fake knife, and a home-made medallion that resembled the AURYN from the movie rested on her chest. San was not a bombshell like Briar Rose, but she was beautiful in her own way, with her dark eyes, slender face, and dark brown hair that almost looked green in the night.

“Well, I think I’ll visit that last house down there, and then I’ll be done for the night,” said Alice.

“We have stopped at almost every home in this district,” Briar Rose agreed. “You outdid yourself this year!”

“Oh, yes!” Alice said cheerfully, looking inside her bag. “This is simply twice the amount I earned last year with Gosalyn and Arthur. Maybe even triple!” Alice giggled when remembering that previous Halloween. Getting Savage to scare the obnoxious Tank was priceless.

“What a pity they couldn’t join us tonight,” said Briar Rose lamentably.

“Mm-hm,” Alice agreed. “There’s hardly anyone… at home tonight. It’s almost just us.” She subtly referred to the Overlook.

“Weren’t we meeting Donald?” San asked, still behind the group. Her arms here folded on her chest as she walked. She was bored, but she didn’t admit it. Walking the Halloween streets wasn’t fun when you were too old to seek candy; watching someone trick-or-treat just wasn’t the same.

“Oh, yes,” Alice replied. “I told him to meet us by the bus stop at the end of this suburb.” The suburbs were always more peaceful than downtown, and the ideal spot for sweets… or tricks.

Briar Rose pointed as they arrived at the home. “Well, there’s that house.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Alice said ladylike, before she approached the door and rang the bell.

A teenage boy with glasses and messy hair answered. He held a bowl of. “Hey! Nice Sunshine costume!”

“Thank you!” replied Alice.

“Is it just you out, tonight?” He asked this as he dropped a Reese’s in her bag, to make sure that she was alone and no one was hiding behind her.

“Oh, I’m with my friends.” She gestured behind, pointing to Marilyn Monroe and a very cute Indian.

The teenager blinked at the gorgeous chicks in disbelief, and then almost glared at the girl. “Lucky! Well, Happy Halloween.” Alice rejoined her group, and the boy watched her two friends until they were out of sight, paying particularly close attention to their legs. “Mmmpf!”

The three friends reached the bus stop which served as the rendezvous point. Donald had spent most of the night with his nephews, but when the boys spent were invited to spend the night at a friend’s house, the uncle decided to hang out with the friends he made from the Dream League. He called Alice and asked if he could join them, and they agreed. Nearly two years after the team formed, Duck Avenger, Dreamchild, Sunshine, and She-Wolf knew each other’s identities.

The girls didn’t know what Donald’s costume would be, and none of them recognized it when they saw it. He was in a beige jumpsuit that was covered in dirt and dust. On top of that, he had a grey jacket that was also deliberately tainted with dirt. But the most tattered part of the costume was his beige fedora. He also had a fake beard affixed under his bill, something under his pants to simulate oversized kneecaps, and he held a wooden staff with a wooden hand tied on the tip.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Briar Rose asked like a loving older sister.

“I’m Torgo,” Donald replied with a stutter and fake voice. “I take care of the place while the M-Master is away.”

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what that is,” apologized Alice.

“Eh, he’s from Manos: The Hands of Fate,” Donald said in his natural, squeaky voice. “It’s the worst movie ever.”

“Then why are you dressed like it?” San asked. She was the least amused by the costume.

“‘Cause it’s the worst movie ever,” Donald replied dryly. “Nice Atreyu costume. Let me guess: Alice?” He eyed Alice suspiciously.

“Yeah,” San replied.

“I should have worn my Empress costume again this year, but…” She shrugged. “I love that movie… except the scene where Artax sinks in the swamp. I can’t watch that.”

“That was the funniest part! Whad’ya talking about?” Donald joked, much to the girl’s chagrin. “Hey! You got a lot’a candy this year. Can I please have some?”

“May I please have some?” Alice corrected.

“May I please have that bag before I steal it without asking nicely?” Donald rolled his eyes and reached into the bag, pulling out the first thing he felt. He popped it in his mouth, took a bite, screeched, and spat it out. “A penny! Yuck! Who the heck gives pennies to kids on Halloween?!”

“I suppose there is always ‘that house,’ Donald,” Alice replied, trying to not smile.
San smirked at the sight. She and Donald were the least friendly together, but over time they grew to respect each other much better than before. They alternated between tolerance and begrudging respect.

“Do you want some more candy?” Alice asked San. She reached into her bag and offered a small packet of candy corn. “I know candy corn is your favorite!”

The little girl was correct. San had a soft spot for candy corn because they were her favorite candy as a little girl. They reminded her of… Setting her feelings aside, San took the packet, tore it open, and quickly ate its contents. “Thank you,” she said with the food still in her mouth.

“I really like white chocolate,” Briar Rose said. “But it’s rare.”

“Do you know white chocolate isn’t actually chocolate?” Alice asked while she retrieved a Butterfingers. She preferred milk chocolate, but she also liked Butterfingers.

“Yes,” Briar Rose replied proudly. “But I still think it’s delicious.”

“I like the darker chocolates,” Donald said. “And bitter, sometimes semisweet.”

“Well, I have a Ghirardelli Square here,” Alice said as she retrieved it and handed it to the duck.

“Thanks!” Donald ate it promptly.

Alice then handed a packet of Reese’s Pieces to Briar Rose. Chocolate and peanut butter was a match made in heaven, Rose would argue. “Oh, thank you, Alice! I’m also fond of Reese’s.” As the foursome ate the candy Briar Rose thought for a moment. “What shall we do now?”

“Well…” Donald tilted his left wrist and checked his watch. On the surface it looked like an ordinary watch, but it was actually a special watch made especially for the Dreamers. “It’s seven. You got somewhere to be?”

Alice shook her head, smiling. “I’m happy that this year’s Halloween happened to be on a Saturday. I already finished all of my homework last night, so I don’t have to go to bed early!”

“I’m sure all the children in Epcot are happy,” Briar Rose said warmly. “They can stay up late, and spend time with friends… this is only the second time I’ve experienced Halloween, but I do like this holiday.”

“Yeah! I like Halloween, too,” Donald agreed. “I like the horror movies, and the excuse to act bad! Heh-heh.”

“And me, too!” said Alice. “I only wish it was a major holiday, so school would be cancelled.”

All eyes fell on the quietest member, San. The short woman with even shorter hair rolled her eyes and shrugged. “… It’s fine, I guess.”

Donald was about to retort, but he felt something vibrate. “My phone. Just a second.” He stepped away and answered the call. “Hello?”

“DA,” said an adult, masculine voice. “This is Tron.”

“Tron?” Donald whispered harshly. He instinctively turned and cupped his bill, as if it could block his voice from being heard by anyone else in close proximity. “What’s wrong?”

Alice, Briar Rose, and San looked at each other. They instantly knew this was Dream League business.

“I’m picking up strange readings from the museum’s security feed,” replied the program. “Someone is inside the museum now.” Tron was a security program in the Dream League’s supercomputer, back in the Overlook Mansion (or the Dream League’s headquarters). When the team’s first artificial intelligence, the MCP, betrayed the heroes and attempted to overtake Epcot City, some of the heroes were digitized. With Tron’s assistance, they defeated the MCP, and freed their operating system from ruthless control. Tron was elected as the new artificial intelligence, and he happily and fiercely served the team ever since. The supercomputer was housed in a special room inside the mansion, and the mansion was located on a secluded island not far from Calisota’s shoreline. “Someone is in there.”

“Maybe it’s just a security guard?” Donald suggested.

“No, I don’t think so. The guard with that access never showed up. The readings I’m picking up indicates someone different—a worker, who shouldn’t be there at this time. I don’t think he belongs there.”

“Oh, well. Thanks, Tron. We’ll check it out.” Donald hung up and sighed. “Duty calls.”

Alice focused on Donald. To avoid detection, she spoke to him and the other Dreamers telepathically. <<Can you hear me?>> thought Alice.

<<Loud and distorted-and-creepy-clear,>> Donald joked.

<<I can hear you,>> thought Briar Rose.

<<What’s wrong?>> San rushed to the point.

<<Tron called me,>> replied Donald. <<There’s some guy in the
museum. He didn’t trip any alarms, but he still shouldn’t be there. No one is allowed in there this time of night, except for guards.>>

<<Do you suppose it’s a guard, then?>> thought Dreamchild.
Donald shrugged. <<I asked Tron the same thing, but he said no.>>

<<It’s a good thing I finished my trick-or-treating, then!>> Alice commented. <<We may have to stay up late tonight after all.>>

<<Let’s move,>> San sternly demanded.

<<Let’s get in costume!>> Donald replied. <<Well, our other costumes.>>

<<To the Overlook?>> asked Sunshine.

<<Yeah, let’s go! But separately—don’t arouse suspicion.>> Donald ran off first, and the females dispersed into the night.

To be updated.

[Dreamchild]

Two years ago I started writing Abracadabra and posted the first part but nothing else. It should come as no surprise that two years later, this fic is not only long-since cancelled, but it's been buried and salted for well over a year and a half, making it extremely dead. Yeah. Fudge.

Why did I cancel it? Well, I realized about halfway through that I didn't have a solid third act. I was writing this because I announced I would and I had a deadline to keep (and miss), but I didn't actually know what to do with the climax. Not to mention that late 2011 was around the time my serious bouts with depression worsened. My depression only escalated throughout the next year, leading to an awful climax that launched me into a brief stint in a mental hospital. (Prior to my diagnosis with a psychiatrist, I didn't know I was a full-blown major depressive with generalized anxiety disorder. I assumed everyone felt this way and this was normal. Snaps!) After posting only the first part on Halloween 2011, I had plans to post the rest on Halloween 2012. But after everything considered, I just didn't have the heart to even try and finish anymore. The Sandersons got screwed, yeah. My bad.

I never posted anything else about this doomed fic... until now. I feel that now is a good time to just get it out and show the world what went on inside my head, to anyone who's curious. Whether you liked where the story was going and you always wondered what would have happened, or if you're simply curious to read a "lost" Dream League document, this is it.

Keep in mind that the following has not been touched at all since I finished the last sentence, and I haven't even looked at this since November 2011. What you're about to read is A ROUGH DRAFT AND NOT WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE FINAL SUBMISSION. You will see typos. You will see inconsistencies. You will see unrefined dialog and clunky characterization. Things were likely to have been edited and changed, such as the transition between the museum and outside, not to mention some really bad jokes that just begged to be cut. You know how in some conceptual footage for movies, they're very sketchy and probably black and white, and there's just early voiceover attached to it and nothing's finished? Just imagine that in writing, and you'll have this. Yeah. After all that build up...!

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Part II

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Inside the museum, someone was performing a ritual. At least, someone was trying to perform a ritual, but his memorization and recitation skills weren’t much to speak of. He stood inside an exhibit on the museum’s second floor. Near him were a large black cauldron, and a tall stand with a large, decorated candle attached at the top. He stood before a podium, on top its surface an opened book. The book was very large, and though the pages were yellow and aged the text was still perfectly comprehensible. The short, obese man had to stand on his tiptoes to read the old tome.

“Now, let’s see,” he murmured as he adjusted his large black glasses. His voice was comically geeky and nasally. “Black flame candle,” he read aloud. “Huh, why am I talking to myself? Wait, I can talk to myself. There’s no one else here. No one’ll hear me; everyone’s gone home to bed!”

“Everyone except you, buddy,” came a harsh, odd voice from behind. “Why aren’t you home?”

The short, fat man spun around with such velocity, his plain necktie hit him in the face. He adjusted his glasses again and eyed at the duck in the weird costume. He recognized him in a second. “Hey… you’re Duck Avenger.”

Duck Avenger, standing with his knuckles on his hips, grinned when recognized. Duck Avenger was in his usual costume: a black and red spandex suit, with a hole cut on the rear end to allow his tail feathers to protrude. He had yellow boots and a utility belt that was fastened by a large, circular, gold belt buckle. He wore a black domino mask over his eyes, and a blue sailor hat on his head with a black tail (the only similarly to Donald’s usual wardrobe). But his favorite part of his costume was his large, flowing cape that was blue on the outside and red inside. “You’re sharper than you look.”

“Oh, thanks.” The fat man smiled, but then scowled when he registered the backhanded compliment. “Heyyyyy!”

“Could you please explain what you’re doing?” said a youthful, feminine voice. Dreamchild stepped out of the shadows and stood beside her feathered companion. Her slender arms were folded on her chest. Dreamchild was in a full-bodied spandex suit that was snug, but not skin tight. The right half of her suit was white, and the other was light blue. The white half formed a cloud shape on her chest, and on top of that was an elegantly-tied navy ribbon. On the white half of her body she wore a blue glove and boot, and vice versa for the blue half. Her blue eye mask was shaped like a horizontal cloud, and though her eyelashes were visible, her eyes were rendered completely white behind the mask. She had a black ribbon tied in her long, yellow hair, and with a ribbon on top. “You’re breaking the law, you see.”

The stout man furrowed his eyebrows when Dreamchild entered. “You, too? Who else is here?”

Sunshine made her presence known immediately. She also stepped forward. Just like her civilian counterpart, Sunshine was a knockout. Her costume was like a pink and blue leotard, with a double-layered skirt attached to the bottom. Each layer of the skirt was a different shade of pink, one darker than the other. On her sizable chest and most of her slim abdomen was an emblem of a sun (despite the size of her chest, the sun did not appear amorphous and was perfect). Her sleeves reached an inch before her wrists. Her pink domino mask was thin enough to expose her long, expressive eyebrows. No longer in her Marilyn Monroe costume, her hair was freed and let down. She wore two pink boots with inch-high heels, bringing her height up from 5’9” to 5’10”. She easily stood the tallest of the group of heroes that night. While Alice looked cute in her Halloween Sunshine costume, the real deal was simply beautiful. “I am,” Sunshine replied, politely yet boldly.

She-Wolf was the last to crowd the museum’s intruder. It was She-Wolf, the teenager of Japanese descent. Her dark, narrow eyes were piercing, and could nearly impale someone with their harshness. She had three triangles (tip down) painted on her face, two on her cheeks and one on her forehead. Above her forehead’s triangle, a dark blue headband with a light-colored gem attached to the middle was affixed around her head, which kept her masculine hair in place. She had similar bands attached to her arms. Her silver earrings were large, circular, and flat. As for her actual costume, it was a dark blue tunic that reached just above her knees. Her tunic was fastened by a white apron that appeared to be made of a white cloth, and attached to this cloth was a white wolf skin that served as her cape, on her back. The wolf skin still had the tail intact. Though she only had beige moccasins as footwear, she was athletic and feral. She was one of the coldest members of the Dream League. While Sunshine was compassionate, She-Wolf was moody. She didn’t say a word when she made herself known. She just stared at the fat man like she did to most people: a cold, judgmental glare that practically screamed, “Harm a tree and I’ll break your damn legs.” There were tree huggers, and then there was… She-Wolf.

The stout man, who resembled film historian John Culhane, winced when four members of the Dream League crowded him. “I… I was just…”

“Hey, what’s that?” Duck Avenger asked as he pointed to the candle. He invited himself to approach the candle and examine it up close. He wasn’t afraid the fat man would harm the duck with his back turned.

She-Wolf and Sunshine were already looking at the black cauldron that was on display in the exhibit. It was attached to a chain that was attached to the ceiling, and the cauldron loomed above kindling and firewood, used for display purposes. “Why is there a cauldron on display?” asked Sunshine.

Dreamchild gently moved the fat man aside using telekinesis and read through the book on the podium. “What were you doing, sir?” she asked as she read through some pages. It looked like a morbid cookbook; every page was dense with incantations and macabre ingredients. Dreamchild wondered what Merlin would think of this book?

The fat man sighed in annoyance. “I was going to summon three witches.”

All eyes looked to the man. “What?” She-Wolf asked tersely.

“Well, I work here in this museum,” the man started, “and—”

“Where’s the security guard?” Duck Avenger asked accusingly. “Only he’s supposed to be here. Why do you have his keys?”
“He’s fine, he should wake up tomorrow with no problems,” the man protested defensively. “I think. Anyway, these artifacts on display belonged to the Sanderson Sisters.”
“Who are the Sanderson Sisters?” asked Dreamchild. She was the most curious of the heroes.

“You mean, who were the Sanderson Sisters?” the man wagged a finger, attempting to be funny. Dreamchild’s face hardened and her eyelids closed halfway in annoyance. “They’re dead. They were witches in Salem in the late 1600s. They were hanged, but
one of them made a curse. If a virgin lights the Black Flame Candle on Halloween, they’ll be brought back to life.”

“So, how did the witches’ stuff get here?” Duck Avenger asked.

“They’re on display for October,” replied the fat man.” They’re on loan from Salem’s historical society.”

“If I may ask, sir,” Sunshine said politely, “why do you want to resurrect witches?”

“All my life I’ve been a nobody! People just push me around. Well, I’ve had it! I won’t stand for it anymore! Whoever summons the witches back will take control of them, and I’ll show them. I’ll show them all!” His face was contorted in tragic rage.

Duck Avenger approached the man and examined his museum name tag. “Listen to me, Mister… Snoops. I get it. You’re disgruntled. But you’re off your rocker if you think a candle is gonna bring someone back from the dead.” The skeptical duck rolled his eyes and looked at his comrades. “Don’t that beat… all?”

Unlike Duck Avenger, Sunshine, She-Wolf, and Dreamchild were deeply concerned. What Duck Avenger didn’t fully realize was that the three females had a close encounter with a very dangerous witch: Madam Mim. In fact, that incident was the first time those three met each other. Though Mim was defeated, the experience was unpleasant.

“Mr. Snoops,” Sunshine said politely. She almost begged. “You really should not do this. Witches can be dangerous. We know.”

“Please, sir!” Dreamchild chimed in. “If you feel angry with the world, we could help you. We could—”

Mr. Snoops shook his head and brought out a lighter. “You’re all just like them, trying to talk me out of it!”

She-Wolf was about to pounce him, but Duck Avenger shouted and surprised everyone. “Wait!” he exclaimed. “Even if he lights the candle, it won’t work.”

“Why not?” asked Mr. Snoops. “The legend says a virgin must light the Black Flame Candle on Halloween night, and that will bring the witches back from the dead.”

Duck Avenger smirked. The man fell into his trap. “Oh, so you are one?”

Mr. Snoops blushed and scowled at the Avenger. “I’m going to order the witches to kill you first.” He lit the candle.

“No!” Sunshine cried. She was one who actually reached and grabbed Snoops, but she was too late.

The candle’s flame flickered and ominously turned black. A sudden gush of wind filled the room, and the building trembled.

All eyes were fixated on the eerie flame. Mr. Snoops tugged his shirt collar nervously. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“No! You think?!” Duck Avenger rudely shouted.

“You’re not so skeptical anymore,” Dreamchild said of the duck, though she didn’t know how she managed to make such a light joke when she felt so scared.

“I have an awful feeling about this,” Sunshine said worriedly.

She-Wolf gritted her teeth. She grew fanged incisors, and she tried to keep a battle stance even when the building trembled.
“Damn it…”

The trembling ceased, and the air was still and quiet for a moment. But then every light bulb in the museum burst, replaced with a flame. The chandelier above the group was no exception, and the firewood under the cauldron caught flame. The fire did not spread at all for some reason; it was kept in place just under the cauldron.

The smoke that emitted from the Black Flame Candle swirled beyond the group and took root on the floor. From the floor’s surface upward, the smoke began to form a human silhouette… no, three of them.

<<I think we should hide,>> Dreamchild telepathically suggested to her comrades. Her comrades agreed with her that instant, and they dispersed to seek hiding places inside the exhibit, which was then fully illuminated by the many candles and flames.

Three women made of smoke were formed, and slowly the smoke turned to flesh and clothes. From the feet, the transformation slithered up the smoky bodies, until, finally, the Sanderson Sisters entered the twenty-first century. The trio opened their eyes and regained consciousness at once. They frantically looked at each other to make sure they were alive.

“Sisters!” Winifred exclaimed victoriously. She and her siblings grinned giddily. “We have returned!”
Sarah jumped repeatedly around her two older sisters, spinning in the air with each joyous leap. In her bliss, she chanted like a hyperactive schoolgirl under a sugar high. “We returned! We returned! We returned!”

“My spell worked perfectly!” Winifred exclaimed as she and Mary linked both hands intimately.

“Oh, that’s because thou art perfect, Winnie,” Mary replied.

Sarah skidded to a halt when she actually examined her surroundings. “Uh… Winnie?”

Winifred looked to Sarah, but she instantly realized what was wrong. She jolted when she eyed the room. “What?!”

“Ohhh, Winnie,” Mary whined. “We returned but we’re not home. Where are we?”

Mr. Snoops worked up the courage to step from behind a large pillar and wave timidly. “Uh, hello.” The three sisters, huddled together, slowly turned their upset faces to him.

The Dream League was hidden from the sisters, but they watched the sisters and Snoops from their spots. Dreamchild’s telepathic abilities often proved valuable, such as then. <<Mr. Snoops is talking to them,>> said Dreamchild to the other Dreamers through their already established mental links.

<<Better him than us,>> Duck Avenger thought harshly.

<<I think we should confront them,>> thought Sunshine.

<<No, not yet. We should see what we’re up against first,>> thought She-Wolf.

<<We’re up against a cute witch, a chubby witch, and a witch who looks like a rabbit with an afro,>> thought Duck Avenger.

<<Please don’t say things like that!>> Dreamchild demanded. <<If they hear us laugh…>>

<<Let’s be quiet and get ready,>> Sunshine thought politely.

“Hello,” Winifred said to the short, round man. “Did you light the Black Flame Candle?”

“Y-yes, yeah, that was, uh, that was me, yeah.” Mr. Snoops tugged his shirt collar and swallowed nervously.

“Imagine,” Winifred said in amusement. She smirked and trailed the tip of her index fingernail along her chin.

“Yes, and now that I lit the candle, you are all under my control!”
The three witches’ eyebrows furrowed in befuddlement. They looked at each other, gesturing to the man as if he was insane.

“N-no?” Mr. Snoops said. “That part was a myth?”

“That part was a myth,” Winifred confirmed. With a quick flick of her hand, Mr. Snoops was launched in the air. He crashed through the nearest window and screamed as he fell. The three witches cackled and ran to the broken window, peering down at their victim.

Mr. Snoops actually survived (much to the witches’ chagrin), but he was humiliated. His jacket was caught on a tree branch but said branch snapped. Snoops plummeted a painful yet relatively safe distance and landed fully on his back and rump. “Owww,” he moaned with a blank expression. “I landed on my keys.”

<<Well! That’s what we’re up against,>> Dreamchild thought dryly.

<<They launched him pretty far,>> Duck Avenger thought in astonishment.

<<Should we stop them now?>> Sunshine asked. <<I’m very worried about this.>>

<<Come on,>> Duck Avenger answered with some levity. <<They’re just witches. You three handled Madam Mim before, right?>>

<<There was just one of her,>> Dreamchild replied.

<<And even with just one witch, Mim was more than challenging,>> Sunshine admitted.

<<I hate witches,>> She-Wolf thought moodily.

Mr. Snoops got up and ran away, escaping the cackling of the three hags he resurrected. The witches, no longer concerned with the man, turned and approached their items. “I don’t know why we’re not at home,” Mary said.

“Bah! What does it matter?” Winifred scoffed. “We still have our cauldron, and…” She gasped and rushed to the podium when she recognized the pages. She closed the book and smiled warmly at the closed eyeball on the surface. “Wake up, sleepy-head!” The eyelid shifted and lifted slowly. The green eyeball peered at its long-lost owner. “Did you miss mommy?” Winifred said warmly, caressing the book’s spine with her fingers. Sarah noticed Mary sniffing the air. She watched the chubby sister slink to Winifred’s ear.

“Winnie?” Mary whispered. However, her whisper was still very loud and ominous. Her face contorted into a devious smirk… at least, she smirked as best as a sideways mouth could. “I… smell… children.”

Dreamchild’s heart skipped a beat. Duck Avenger clasped his bill shut to prevent a bad word from escaping. Sunshine’s fists tightened. She-Wolf bared her fangs.

<<Goodness!>> Dreamchild thought in worry.

<<Don’t worry, DC,>> Duck Avenger protested. <<I’m sure she’s just guessing. It’s not like she can actually smell you!>>

Winifred grinned, as did Sarah. “Sic ‘em!” Winnie demanded. Mary wheezed a giggle and led her two excited siblings. Mary took another deep inhale and sighed. “It smells like… a little girl.” Dreamchild’s white eyes narrowed in anticipation. Mary took another inhalation. “Twelve—no, thirteen.”

<<Really, Duck Avenger?>> Dreamchild thought sarcastically. <<Because I would say she’s very astute.>>

<<Geez!>> Duck Avenger shouted in his mind. <<She’s got the nose of a bloodhound! She smells better than She-Wol—oops.>>

<<AVENGER.>> She-Wolf was about to rain a mental apocalypse onto the unmindful duck, but Sunshine intervened before it could happen.

<<Both of you! Dreamchild is in danger! I think we should step out now!>> This was the third time she made a suggestion. This time, she wasn’t as polite as before.

<<Not yet,>> Dreamchild thought. <<Let me indulge them for a moment, then you can surprise-attack them.>>

“A thirteen-year-old girl,” Winifred repeated with a tinge of disappointment. “Well, that’s a little too old, don’t you think? But… I suppose she’ll do.”

Sarah giggled maniacally as she followed Mary. “Oooh! Let’s play with her!” She whispered a song. “Come, little children, I’ll take thee away…”

When the witches approached Dreamchild’s hiding spot…

<<No, Dreamchild!>> Sunshine protested. <<I don’t want you to—>>

<<I’ll be all right, Sunshine!>> Dreamchild got ready. <<I trust you!>>

<<DC!>> Duck Avenger thought. <<Wait—!>>

“Come out, my dear,” Winifred beckoned with a fluctuating voice. “We will not harm thee!”

Dreamchild stood up from behind a long, horizontal display case. Her white eyes stared intensely at the witches. “That you won’t.”

The Sanderson Sisters stared at the girl in awe. Why was she dressed like… like… why, they’ve never seen a little girl dressed like that, ever! “Greetings, little one,” Winifred said in uncertainty.

“Oooh, what a weird dress,” Sarah said to the blonde-haired, white-eyed, masked girl.

“You don’t need to be rude,” Dreamchild replied. She folded her arms on her chest.

A painfully awkward silence ensued, before Winifred and Sarah looked at each other. They slowly grinned and returned their looks at the girl. “What… lovely hair you have, my dear,” Winifred stammered. Sarah heaved a chortle.

Mary crowded Dreamchild, examining the girl from top to bottom. “And she’s so well-fed, too! Just look at her le—”

She was about to point at Dreamchild’s legs, but the girl grabbed her hand and held it in place. Her lips curled. “If you call my legs plump, I promise you will regret it.”

<<Oh, this is going just smoothly,>> Duck Avenger mentally groaned. <<They’re already talking about her calves. You know how
much she hates that.>>

Mary wasn’t fazed. “Winnie, she’s threatening us!”

“Such a brave child!” Winifred mused. “Do you know who we are?”

“From my understanding,” said Dreamchild, keeping her distance from Mary who continuously stalked her, “you are the Sanderson Sisters. You were tried and hanged one Halloween night, in Salem.”

Mary stopped in her tracks and looked to her siblings. “In Salem?” The other two witches were just as confused.

“You’re not in Salem,” Dreamchild continued. “This is Epcot City, Calisota.”

<<Why d’they need to know that?>> Duck Avenger asked.

<<To confuse them,>> replied Dreamchild. <<Please be quiet; I’m busy.>>

“Calisota?” Winifred repeated, bewildered. “Tell me, child. What year is this?” When Dreamchild gave her the year, Winifred and her sisters looked at each other with astonished grins. “Sisters, we’ve been dead for well over three-hundred years!”

“My, Winnie,” Mary said. “How time flies.”

“When you’re dead!” cackled Sarah. “But why is our stuff here?”

“That man you threw out the window worked here. This is a museum, and your belongings were on display. But none of us could have guessed that the legend surrounding you was true.” Dreamchild folded her arms on her chest. “I have one question for you three, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmmm?” Winifred’s voice took on a darker tone. She smirked. She was ready for something.

“Why were the three of you hanged?” Dreamchild was ready for whatever surprise attack the witches had planned.

“Well, we…” Winifred stalled, but Sarah interrupted.

“We sucked the lives out of children, to make us younger!” Winifred strangled her, like she did over three-hundred years ago.

Dreamchild’s eyes widened, and Mary suddenly grabbed her. She shrieked in surprise.

“That’s our cue!” Duck Avenger shouted. He burst out of an empty casket, jumped into the air, and landed graciously, his narrowed eyes focused on the witches.

At a corner with mannequins dressed in indigenous clothing, one such mannequin stirred and lifted her mask. But it was not a mannequin; it was She-Wolf. She was lucky to have brought along her mask that night. She padded next to Duck Avenger. With intensely cool eyes, the feral teenager pointed a clawed finger at the surprised sisters, and then did the throat-slit gesture.

Sunshine, who had flown to the ceiling and held herself in place the whole time, dropped. Her pink, heeled boots hit the floor with a click. She was beside the Avenger and the wolf, her hands on her hips, the eyes behind the pink mask less than kind. “Unhand her, and you won’t be harmed.” Sunshine was the most polite of the four heroes, but she still knew when to be serious.

Mary still held Dreamchild, as she and the other two witches stared at… more costumed opponents! “Winnie, who are they? Why are they here?”

“Winnie!” Sarah shouted in concern. “Winnie, do something!”

“Sisters, these are witch hunters!” Winifred pointed accusingly at the tallest, most prominent member of the team: the one in blue and pink, with a sun on her chest.

“We’re the Dream League!” Duck Avenger replied. He puffed his chest out proudly and slammed a clenched fist against it. “We’re defenders of the innocent!”

Sunshine, recognizing the routine, posed elegantly. “Upholders of justice!”

An awkward silence followed, and both the Avenger and Sunshine looked to She-Wolf. The third member was supposed to finish the taunt, but the short teenager clad in wolf skin just wasn’t complying. “Say it!” the Avenger harshly whispered.

“No,” She-Wolf said tersely to him. “It’s stupid.”

“Please, She-Wolf,” Sunshine said as femininely and sweetly as she could.

She-Wolf rolled her eyes, held up a reluctant fist, bored and listless. “And we’re going to stop you.”

Sunshine stepped closer to the witches. “What you did to Mr. Snoops was wrong. I don’t know about the laws of Salem so many years ago, but here, it’s illegal to throw someone out a window with the intention to harm.”

The witches eyed Sunshine like, “Who the hell is this clown?”

“So, please,” Sunshine continued, “I will ask you one time to return to where you came from. If you resist, we will force you. Please, surrender now, and you won’t be harmed.”

Sarah Sanderson invited herself to approach Sunshine. Her eyes were wide in interest. Sunshine was definitely tall, the tallest woman she had ever seen. And she looked to be a rival of beauty. Sarah had to make certain of something; she pressed herself against Sunshine and blatantly compared the sizes of her breasts with the costumed heroine’s. Sunshine, recognizing what was happening, blushed in embarrassment. She didn’t know what to expect for an answer, but it certainly wasn’t that! Duck Avenger had a pleased grin on his bill as he watched, but She-Wolf shoved him painfully.

“Sarah!” Winifred shouted like a scolding parent. “Enough of that!”

“But, Winnie! She’s trying to be fairer than me!” She stamped her foot like a pouting girl.

“But she wears a mask!” Winifred countered. “Surely, she must be hideous!”

“Sure,” Duck Avenger said. “Keep tellin’ yourself that. Hand over our friend.”

“No need,” Dreamchild replied. She levitated above the floor, alongside Mary. The latter whooped in fright and let go of Dreamchild, collapsing onto the floor.

“Winnie!” Mary shouted and pointed at the airborne child. “She floats!”

“What sorcery is this?” Winifred asked, more out of intrigue than fright.

“We are not ordinary people,” Dreamchild said. She attempted to intimidate the witches.

“We all have special abilities.” Duck Avenger was relieved when he was spared, because he was the only one of the four heroes who did not have any inherent superpowers to speak of. “I can do many things. I can even read your minds, and speak to you telepathically.” <<Like so. You three can’t possibly understand who you’re up against.>>

Sarah and Mary, genuinely disturbed by the girl’s powers, cowered behind Winnie. Winifred was disturbed, but then she smirked, and, finally, grinned maliciously. “Sisters, we have a white witch on our hands. And from a white witch comes… a most potent life force.”

Dreamchild hated it whenever her attempts to fright backfired. “Oh, dear.”

She-Wolf made the first strike. She dashed to Winifred and tackled her to the floor. On top of the witch, She-Wolf held up her right hand, her claws exposed and ready to cut. “Those are some impressive nails you’ve got there,” Winifred said.

“Want to see how deep they can cut?” She-Wolf growled, baring her fangs.

“No, but I’m sure your nails can’t do this!” Winifred jabbed her nails against She-Wolf’s sides. Though the nails didn’t penetrate, lightning flowed from her arms all the way to the tip of the nails, and shocked the Dreamer. She-Wolf felt the electricity course through her body, and she screamed in pain.

“She-Wolf!” Sunshine cried. She was about to assist her friend, but Sarah jumped onto her back, wrapped her arms around the blonde woman’s neck, and squeezed tightly, attempting to choke the hero.

“Brave, beautiful maiden in pink and blue,” Sarah said with what sounded like lust in her voice. “I’ll be thy friend.” Sunshine struggled, but not for long. She simply pushed herself backward, flying fast and quickly onto the nearest wall. Sarah yelped after being crushed by the young woman, and released her grip. The freed Sunshine faced Sarah. “You’re strong,” Sarah said through her coughs.

“Thank you,” Sunshine said warmly, before punching Sarah in the face. Sarah flew back and slammed against the wall, then dropped like a rock.

Meanwhile, Dreamchild and Duck Avenger were facing Mary. The two heroes heard She-Wolf’s scream. “Go help her,” Duck Avenger ordered the English heroine.

“Are you sure?” Dreamchild asked.

“I’ll be fine! Just go!” Dreamchild obeyed, and Duck Avenger was left alone with Mary, who barked like a dog. “Easy, doggie. Hey, what’s that over there?” Duck Avenger pointed, and Mary, amazingly, fell for it. She looked behind her.

“I don’t see anyth—” She fell to the floor after being punched in the face without warning.

“Winifred!” shouted Dreamchild. “It’s me you want! Let her go!”

Winifred grinned at the heaving She-Wolf. “Goodbye!” She used her magic powers to launch She-Wolf just like Mr. Snoops, and She-Wolf was sent crashing out of another window.

“I meant let her go humanely!” Dreamchild shouted angrily. “Why do you need to suck the life force out of children, anyway?” She kept her distance, even levitating when Winifred got too close.

“We suck the lives out of children so we can live forever! The more life force we devour, the longer we live, and the younger and more beautiful we become; the younger the child, the more potent their force!” She smiled haughtily.

“That’s horrible!” Dreamchild scolded. “You should give up now, because no amount of life force will make any of you beautiful. You are all ugly, disgusting, horrid creatures!”

Winifred lost her smile. Her eyes burned with sheer hatred, never being so insulted in her life. “Why, you…”

Duck Avenger had witnessed that. He winced and scratched the back of his head. “Why do I get the feeling that’s gonna come back and bite DC later?”

“Winnie?” Sunshine asked politely. When Winifred turned around, Sunshine punched her in the face, knocking her out cold. She sighed in relief when all three sisters were out. She looked at the window that She-Wolf was launched out of. “I hope she’s all right!” On that note, she took flight and exited that newly created opening.

“I’m going to follow her,” Dreamchild said. “Will you stay here with the wi—”

“Heck, no!” Duck Avenger exclaimed, almost insulted. “I’m not staying here alone with them!”

“But one of us should—”

“DC, they’re out cold. Let’s just call the cops and they’ll take care of the rest. I’m more concerned about She-Wolf now, anyway.”

Dreamchild watched Duck Avenger take off. He jumped out of the window and used his cape as a hang glider, to soar out into the night. Dreamchild started to run, but stopped when she spotted the book through the corner of her eye. She picked it up and carried it with her, jumping out of the window.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Sunshine asked, hugging She-Wolf for the third time.
She-Wolf blushed again. She was humiliated by Sunshine’s frequent worrying and concern. “Yes. I’ll live.” She stood up from the grass and grasped her sides. “That damn woman…”
Duck Avenger landed on the grass beside the girls, and was followed soon after by Dreamchild. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She-Wolf answered the duck with a nod.

“Thank goodness!” Dreamchild replied. She dropped the book and happily threw her arms around She-Wolf and hugged her. “I was so scared for you!”

She-Wolf blushed yet again, and gently pushed Dreamchild off. “I’m fine.”

Duck Avenger took up his watch and spoke into the communicator. “Hey, police? Hey? Hello? Hello-o-o? Knock, knock!” The duck scowled when he couldn’t pick up a signal to the police station, or a signal of any kind. “What the heck is goin’ on?!”

“I’m not getting a signal, either,” Dreamchild said after testing her own communicator-watch.

“Oh, please don’t fret,” Sunshine said nicely. “We can just take the Star Wisher to the station.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Duck Avenger led the group. “Let’s go.”

“Why did you take the book?” She-Wolf asked to Dreamchild.

“Just in case the witches wake up,” Dreamchild said. “Did you hear what Winifred said?”

“Yeah,” Duck Avenger replied with a nod. Despite being the shortest of the group, he led the others. “Looks like the witches gain their immortality by sucking children’s lives through a straw. Or something.”

Sunshine frowned in sorrow, sad for the poor children whose lives were stolen by those three horrible women. “How awful!”

“Even Mim hasn’t done that,” Dreamchild said.

“… We don’t know that for sure,” She-Wolf said softly.

The four heroes walked in silence for a few seconds. Duck Avenger grabbed the book and flipped it open. “Then let’s trash it.” He tried to tear off a page, but to his incredulous eyes, the paper would not tear. It wouldn’t even bend. He handed it to Sunshine. “Sunshine, you’re the strongest of all of us. Try and break it.”

Sunshine strained in her effort to damage the book. If it was any other book, it would have snapped, torn in half, the book would have been demolished under the power of Sunshine. But this book was inexplicably durable. “Why… why won’t it break?”

“Maybe it’s protected by magic,” Dreamchild suggested.

She-Wolf muttered, “I hate witches.”

“Oh, well; as long as we keep it away from them… There’s the Star Wisher.” He stopped and reached into his pocket, but didn’t feel the device. “Huh?” He reached into another pocket, but the clicker was still missing. He patted all over his suit, but the all-important device, the button that when pressed opened the Star Wisher’s hatch, was gone. “Oh, no.”

She-Wolf eyed the duck in anger. “Where is it?”

Sunshine flew to the Star Wisher’s windshield, peered inside, and spotted it. “There it is. It’s locked inside.”

“Well done,” Dreamchild said, but more out of humor than genuine annoyance.

She-Wolf trembled, reaching her boiling point. She was so mad, her fangs clicked into existence again. “We have three witches unattended… our communicators don’t work… the police station is over a mile away… Of all nights—”

Sunshine placed a hand on the hotheaded teenager’s shoulder. “She-Wolf, please—”

She-Wolf forcibly shoved her friend’s hand away. She continued to grill Duck Avenger. “Of all nights, why the hell did you pick this night to pull off this crap?!”

Duck Avenger glared back at the angry wolf. “Hey, She-Wolf, remember how I took out Mary Sanderson with a punch? Oh, wait, you didn’t, ‘cause you were too busy screaming, and getting thrown out the window.”

She-Wolf heaved and brought up her claws. “Shut. UP.”

Sunshine shoved She-Wolf and Duck Avenger away from each other, her immense strength keeping them apart. “Enough! The longer we sit here and argue, the longer the Sanderson sisters are left alone! Please, we can’t fight each other! We’re a team, not enemies. Right?”

“I agree,” Dreamchild said. “You’re both acting like children.”

“Oof,” Duck Avenger winced. “Being called a child by a child, the ultimate insult.”

“… Let’s just go.” She-Wolf turned and ran for the police station.
Dreamchild and Sunshine looked at each other and shrugged, then also took off. Duck Avenger kicked the Star Wisher out of displaced aggression. “She started it!” He followed his teammates.

---

And there you have it! That's all I wrote for the thing. Finito. That's all that was written in Abracadabra's rough draft. I'm afraid the story will remain unfinished--very likely--forever. Game over!

But if you're the kind of reader who absolutely HATES when things end on an unresolved cliffhanger (I'm such a hater!), I'll share all the ideas I had while planning this story. Ready? Here goes.

The Sandersons would've regained consciousness and immediately acknowledge that these 'witch hunters' are stronger beyond assumption, and therefore had to be disposed of. "No more nice mistresses for us!" would be their general attitude. Of course, Dreamchild would've been their target throughout the whole story.

Sunshine would volunteer to fly ahead, but the Avenger insisted there was no need. (His cockiness was a general problem throughout the plot.) But the witches would in fact catch up with them (via brooms from the museum) before they could reach the police station. The Sandersons would terrorize some civilians and even revive some dead people at a cemetery to do their bidding. Not one zombie; several. To make matters worse, the witches would entrance any cop they came by, which meant even more danger for the Dream League. I hadn't refined these series of events, but long story short the police were utterly worthless because of magic.

Making a song number happen like "I Put a Spell On You" was tempting, but I opted not to because I'd feel like the story would then become a TOTAL clone of the movie. But nonetheless some more elements were borrowed. For example, it seemed at one point that the witches died, and the Dream League, knowing dawn was only two and a half hours away, returned to the Overlook, taking the book with them for the MIA Paradox to examine when he returns. (The Overlook was pretty much all to the four that night.) Like in the movie, the witches revived and used the book to locate the mansion. Unmasked and more vulnerable, San would have been transformed into an adorable wolf dog, and Donald would have been cursed to be a full-sized wooden toy.

Sarah would start singing "Come Little Children" which would have made Alice's pupils fade, leaving only blues in her eyes. Completely under control, she would have been taken by the witches. I forgot to mention, Aurora would have been cursed to not fly, which made their mission a lot harder.

Nonetheless, they'd track the witches down and challenge them. San and Donald would do some damage in their cursed forms, but ultimately Sunshine would have been to have the actual showdown. Again, like in the movie, Sunshine would have taken the last of the witches' potion and drink it, giving them no choice but to abandon Alice and go after her. The book was grabbed and thrown far away by Sunshine, so its whereabouts became unknown.

Infuriated, Winifred, much to her sisters' reluctance, forced the three to combine into a large, three-headed monster. The heads would have vaguely resembled each witch, but with horrific, beastly changes. The sun would have killed them, but not by the sun directly. They would first fight above ground, but then plummet to a cavern below. Then the witches would have thrown Sunshine out in the air and she'd slam against a tree. But the sun, already rising and visible, made contact with the then-exhausted Sunshine's skin. She'd run right into the monster below's waiting jaws and, with just the tiniest bit of 'Sunray' in her, vanquish the thing entirely.

With the witches killed, the curses were lifted. Because Alice, San and Donald were unmasked they would eventually have to leave separately so they wouldn't be associated with Sunshine. They'd do some more friendship porn and the last joke Sunshine would have made is, "Is every Halloween like this??"
"NO!"
"I assumed!"

Guaranteed the story would've had a 'post-credits sequence.' Whether hidden or simply following the closure, the scene would have focused on Madam Mim, who'd be alone on November 1st. She'd whine that the Halloween was a total bust because of the strange circumstances that she didn't know about. Then she'd find Winnie's book and flip through the pages. Realizing what was contained within, she'd have cackled maniacally, filling the air with sinister joy.

I'd have given that opportunity to Heffy to however he wanted. Whether he wanted to go with that idea or not, it would've been up to him. It was just a little something.

The "would have" scenarios I just wrote were, as you can see, very sloppy and not finalized. I usually worry about finalizing my outlines when I'm actually writing, but I don't think this story fit completely in place, but at least I attempted.

Well, that about does 'er. Thanks for reading, and I hope this was an interesting, if not entertaining, read. Happy Halloween, everybody!



(Fun fact: I saw this book on display, along with one of the Winifred 'death' statues and the witches' costumes and cauldron. Yep.)

EDIT: Huh, what d'you know? I coincidentally posted this on Nicole's birthday! Hah! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NICOLE!