All-New Halloween Spooktacular!

I'm stretched out on the couch, lazily turning the purple stone between my fingers. It doesn't let me see what fake Pietro sees, but it grants me the ability to listen in on his every move. That's more than enough for now.

We've shifted from the 80s to the 90s, but the most striking change isn't the era—it's the transformation of Westview into a Halloween town overnight. Pumpkins litter every corner, costumes abound, but what truly stands out is the sudden presence of children.

For the first time, the sound of kids' laughter echoed through the streets. I find it rather irritating. It was rather peaceful before if you ask me.

I hear Pietro's voice coming through the stone, drawing my attention as I absentmindedly scratch behind Señor Scratchy's ears. "Whoa! Sweet costume bro-ham-in-law. Let me guess, traffic light." Vision sighs. "Half-shucked corn… A booger?!"

"Yes."

"Yes!"

"Well, thank you for humoring me and wearing this ridiculous get-up, honey." Wanda's voice is soft and sweet.

But Vision replies with a snarky remark: "Well, there were no other clothes in my closet, so…"

It's quiet for a moment before he laughs. "You are incorrigible, darling. I know you have a secret thing for Mexican wrestlers."

"Mi gusta mucho." Wanda replies.

I shift my legs, causing Señor Scratchy to hop away with an irritated flick of his tail, clearly annoyed at losing his cozy spot. The sudden movement pulls me out of focus, and by the time I settle back, I've already missed part of their conversation. With a sigh, I absentmindedly start braiding my hair, tuning back in just in time to hear Vision's voice come through the stone: "Well, you have fun tonight, darling."

"What? What do you mean? You're all dressed up and ready to go." Wanda's voice is tinged with confusion, clearly not expecting this turn of events.

"I'm undercover. Halloween is a bacchanal for adolescent trouble-makers and the neighborhood watch is the only thing that stands between the trees and the toilet paper."

"But no, that's not what you're supposed to--"

"What?"

"Well…" She pauses, sighing as she rethinks her words, trying to backtrack. "You didn't tell me you had plans."

"Well, I am telling you now."

I grit my teeth. Honestly, sometimes Vision could really be such a jerk.

Billy's voice comes through, uncertain and hesitant.

Wanda's voice drifts in from farther away, making it clear that my host isn't standing as close to her as he was to Billy. "It's their first Halloween. You have to be there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's the big dealio?" Pietro interferes. "Big guy has a conflict, twins need a father figure for the night. Don't sweat it, sis. I got the old XY chromosome." Wanda laughs softly. "Uncle P to the rescue, huh?"

"There you go. Problem solved. You have a spoooooky time tonight, kids." Vision says with a playful farewell to his family.

"Goodnight, dad." "Bye dad." The twins reply.

"Wanda…" A kissing sound follows. "Be good."

I set the stone down on the table beside me and close my eyes. So, Vision isn't going to spend Halloween with his family. For some reason, I doubt he's actually heading to the neighborhood watch. My gut tells me the seeds of doubt I've planted are starting to take root. He's going to explore Westview—without Wanda by his side to pull the strings.

A very good idea if I must say so myself. Things are obviously different today seeing as the kids are allowed out of their cages. So maybe I should do some investigating on my own. It would be interesting to see how the outside of the hex looks, if her control is on the same level there as is it in the center.

So, I make the decision to see how far toward the edge of town I can get once it's dark. The cover of night will give me just the advantage I need.

I slide down a little, my fingers absentmindedly toying with the necklace around my neck. Its pendant, made from cowrie shell and set in an antique gold frame, is a cameo delicately carved in relief. The three women—the Maiden, Mother, and Crone—are raised in white against the dark, polished background. They dance in eternal unison, a silent reminder of the stages of a witch's life. I've worn this token for centuries, its power and meaning tied to my own. I fidget with the clasp and carefully open it—a ritual I haven't bothered with in years.

Inside is a small picture, perfectly preserved by magic, untouched by the passage of time. With my narrow fingers, I gently pull it out and hold it in front of me. Wanda and Pietro stare back at me from the photo—just 11 years old, arms draped over each other's shoulders, their faces glowing with big, carefree grins.

I remember that day as if it were yesterday. It was their first birthday spent with me, and I had baked them the biggest birthday cake. Each of them had a gift, and they told me they hadn't felt this happy in years. Their smiles were genuine—filled with joy and innocence that seemed so empty now.

I close my hand tightly around the picture and shut my eyes. Memories flood my mind—moments I had buried long ago, now rushing back all at once.

I see Wanda, shyly holding Pietro's hand as they walked through my door for the first time, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Another flash—Wanda curled up next to me on a stormy night, softly telling me about the loss of her parents.

Wanda carefully brushing her hair in front of the mirror, frowning in concentration as she tried to tame it.

Wanda in the kitchen, sleeves too long, stubbornly stirring cake batter while Pietro teased her.

A sunny day at the lake—her laughter ringing out as she skipped stones with Pietro, her joy infectious.

A tear slips down my cheek before I even notice it. Sadness washes over me, a sorrow I've buried for so long. Wanda, my Wanda. I know I have to take her magic away to protect her, to save her from herself. It's always been my plan to steal her magic, but now the thought of it fills me with grief. Especially knowing that to do so, I'll have to become the villain in her story. How the tables have turned.

I take a moment to collect myself, allowing the emotions to settle. Once I'm composed, I swing my legs over the side of the couch and sit up straight. With a deep breath, I carefully place the picture back into the necklace, securing it before exhaling slowly.

'So, who are you going to be this Halloween?' I whisper to myself, a grin forming as I head to the bedroom to choose my look. I glance at my reflection and chuckle. What else could I be?

I slip into a long, black dress with tattered edges, pairing it with a gray wig and a pointed witch's hat to complete the look.

The wicked witch is in the house.

At first, as I drive through Westview, everything looks picture-perfect. Children are Trick or Treating, parents walking alongside them, and the neighborhood watch is dutifully patrolling. But the farther I get from the center, the more things start to shift. It's like the people are stuck, trapped in an endless loop.

There's a woman, hanging up the same skeleton over and over, trapped in a mindless loop. Her husband, in the background, repeats his own task, as if caught in a spell. A tear slips down her cheek, the only sign that she's aware of her own suffering, but she can't break free.

I keep driving, and as I get closer to the edge of the hex, things worsen. The people I pass are no longer repeating tasks—they're completely still, frozen in place. They don't move, don't speak, trapped in the farthest reaches of Wanda's control, where her power starts to falter.

It's clear that Wanda can't control every citizen in Westview—it would be too much, even for her. I mean, dear god, I know how hard it was to look after just two kids, let alone an entire town. The fact that she manages to control so many people is proof of her immense power, but every power has its limits. Sooner or later, everyone hits a wall, and it looks like she's hit hers.

Except for me. I just steal other witches' powers to keep growing mine—tada. Problem solved.

I need to stop this. Not because I care about these people or saving lives—quite the opposite, actually. But because this isn't who Wanda is, or who she ever wanted to become.

I continue driving, determined to reach the very edge of the hex. I don't expect to find anyone out there, but that's not what I'm after. I want to feel the magic, to sense how her power holds up at the boundary. How much further can she stretch it before it snaps?

I sit at the stop sign, debating which way to go, when I feel it—a presence hovering above me. I close my eyes, scanning the area with my magic: Vision. That damn robot. He's really starting to get on my nerves. A sly smile creeps across my lips as I realize this is an opportunity to toy with him a little. And if his distrust keeps Wanda off balance, well, that's just an added bonus.

I sit back, close my eyes for a moment, and slip on my mask—Agnes, the clueless neighbor, fully under Wanda's control. When I open them again, I'm ready. Just in time, too, as the robot silently lands right in front of my car.

He slowly wakes towards my side as he calls out my name: "Agnes?"

I keep my gaze fixed ahead, my expression vacant, as if I can't hear him. The perfect picture of someone completely out of touch, lost in the loop Wanda has them trapped in.

He bends down slightly, leaning in to peer through my open window. "What are you doing here?"

I keep my gaze fixed ahead, that faraway, disconnected look still plastered on my face. "Town Square Scare. Where is it?"

"Oh, well, the town square, I expect," he replies, a little awkward laugh escaping with his words.

I chuckle emotionlessly. "Took a wrong turn. Got lost."

"In the town you grew up in?"

I don't reply and just keep staring straight ahead of me, as if the answer to all of my problems will be found there.

After looking around for a moment Vision reaches out to my temple and I know he will try to free me from Wanda's said control, so I'll have to play along perfectly.

The instant his hand touches my skin, I gasp for breath, as if something deep within me has been released.

 "It's all right." He says, trying to sound calm and reassuring. I turn to face him, eyes wide, pretending to be shocked to find him standing there in front of me.

"You…" I say softly, my voice trembling just enough. "You're one of the Avengers. You're Vision." I let a flicker of hope creep into my tone at the end, as if clinging to the idea that he could be my savior. I grab both his hands with my own. "Are you here to help us?"

"I am Vision. I do want to help. But what's an Avenger?"

"What?" I pull my hands back. "Why don't you know?"

My breath starts to tremble, and with shaky hands, I begin to feel around my own body, as if trying to make sense of it all. "Am I dead?" I whisper, my voice filled with fear and confusion.

"No, no. Why would you think that?"

I look him dead in the eye. "Because you are."

Vision looks at me, his face a swirl of emotions—confusion, worry, even fear. "Because I'm what?"

"Dead." I look at him. "Dead," I repeat, more firmly this time. Then, louder, more desperate, "Dead!" I shout, my voice rising. "Dead!"

"Agnes, it is my intention to reach those outside of Westview and make sense of our situation." Vision looks away briefly, pointing towards the horizon. While he's distracted, I glance at myself in the mirror and throw a quick kiss. You're doing just fine, girl.

By the time Vision looks back at me, my façade is firmly back in place. "How?" I whisper, my voice soft. "No one leaves. Wanda won't even let us think about it."

I begin to chuckle, as if there's some twisted joy to be found in the desperation of my so-called situation. "All is lost," I say, letting the hopelessness seep into my voice. I start to laugh maniacally.

"Agnes, please calm down... Agnes, please..." Vision's voice is steady, trying to soothe me, but I only make my laughter louder, more hysterical. I realize, with some amusement, that I sound just like one of those witches from a cartoon. Funny.

Vision sighs and reaches out, touching my temple again. The moment his fingers make contact, my so-called Wanda-controlled mask snaps back into place. I stop laughing immediately, my face going blank as I stare straight ahead, emotionless once more.

"I will fix this, Agnes. I promise."

I look at him for a moment and then with a big smile I say: "Okey-dokey, neighbor."

I start the car and turn it around, heading back toward the center of Westview. I've done enough for today, and to be honest, I could really use some rest.

I'm almost home when I feel the shift—a surge of chaotic energy exploding all around me. I park the car and step out, my eyes scanning the area. When I look up, my jaw nearly drops. Nearly.

Wanda's hex is expanding at an alarming rate. Every passing second, it consumes more of the surrounding area—and believe me, many seconds are passing.

Something must have triggered Wanda to expand the hex like this, and my mind immediately jumps to that robot. Vision must have tried to escape, which—of course—failed miserably. And if he can't leave the hex, it means he's tied to it. She's anchored her family to this world she created, which means if the hex shatters, Vision and the twins will cease to exist. Oh, Wanda.

I glance up, and all I see is a scarlet red sky, pulsing with chaos. At this pace, I might have to abandon my disguise and finally resort to using my magic more openly. I don't see this ending well any other way.

Drifting away

We're far apart

Can't feel the rain

That floods our hearts

We barely remember love

We barely remember us