The neighbour- Margaret

Nathan froze.

Selene lit up.

"Perfect opportunity to demonstrate," she quipped.

Before he could react, her body shimmered—dematerializing in a swirl of dark purple smoke before rematerializing at the front door.

She swung it open in one smooth motion, revealing their next-door neighbor standing there, a pleasant smile on her face, a glass jar of cookies in her hands.

Nathan’s stomach twisted into knots the second the door swung open.

His mother—or rather, the thing wearing his mother’s skin—stood in full view of their next-door neighbor, her barely-there leather outfit and sultry posture on display.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He braced himself, expecting a gasp, a scream—hell, even just a raised eyebrow. But nothing came.

The neighbor, Margaret, simply smiled as if everything was completely normal, standing there in her usual cozy cardigan, holding out a jar of cookies with her frail hands.

Nathan barely had time to process that before he felt it—warm breath against his ear.

"Relax, darling." Selene’s voice coiled around his mind. "She sees Cassandra exactly as she always does. It’s a little… gift of mine."

Nathan swallowed, eyes darting back to Margaret. She still wasn’t reacting.

His mother tilted her head, offering a polite smile. “Margaret! What a lovely surprise.”

“Oh, I just made a fresh batch of cookies,” Margaret said cheerfully, holding out the jar. “I thought you and the kids might like some.”

His mother took the jar, her fingers brushing lightly over Margaret’s as she accepted it. “How sweet of you,” she purred. “Come in, let’s have a little chat.”

Nathan stiffened. No, no, don’t let her in.

But before he could protest, Margaret was already stepping inside, moving toward the living room with the same warm, oblivious air she always carried.

Nathan’s mind raced.

Margaret had been their neighbor since they moved in. A widow, living alone in a house far too big for just one person. She was the kind of person who filled silences with friendly chatter, always looking for company.

Nathan had spent more time at her place growing up than he liked to admit, mostly because of her—Margaret’s daughter, Jessica.

Jessica had been his first real crush, though she never saw him as anything more than Cassandra’s awkward son. She was a few years older, way out of his league, and had recently moved across the country for work.

Margaret, however, had stayed.

And now, completely unaware, she was walking straight into a nightmare.

Nathan clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t know what Selene’s game was, but he knew one thing—this was not going to end well.

Selene smiled, slow and knowing.

Nathan didn’t like that smile.

The second Margaret reached the center of the room, Selene shifted.

A flicker of something in her eyes—something sharp and hungry.

Margaret turned to her with an easy grin, but the second her gaze locked onto Selene—her real form—her face dropped.

The blood drained from her cheeks. Her lips trembled as she let out a choked, strangled gasp.

Selene, sighed. “Oh, Margaret,” she said, almost bored. “You really should have stayed home.”

Margaret’s shriek tore through the house.

Nathan flinched, heart hammering, as Selene slowly raised her hand.

From her fingertips, tendrils of deep purple smoke began to unfurl, snaking through the air toward the trembling woman. The moment the mist touched Margaret’s skin, she stiffened, eyes wide in horror as it wrapped around her like a living thing.

The smoke thickened, swirling, swallowing her whole.

Not a sound came from within the thick veil of smoke that had swallowed Margaret whole.

For a moment, the living room was eerily silent, the swirling mist casting ghostly shadows across the walls. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smoke began to thin, dissipating into wisps that slithered along the floor before vanishing entirely.

Nathan held his breath.