“I think you’ve hit the nail on the head,” Pop said, over a video call ten minutes later. We debated a few more details, but it seemed increasingly likely that we were on the right track. Dad proceeded up the street, but when the road became littered with abandoned vehicles Dad diverted and headed back into town.


    “Let’s see what we’re up against,” Dad had said.


    “Your feedback is coming through,” Pop said, we passed the park, a few stores and the library. It was surreal to see so many people fleeing, screaming, or crying beside buildings.


    “It’s like an apocalyptic flash mob,” Tony said, “Only with everyone in town participating.”


    “It doesn’t look like everyone has been affected,” Mom said, “there are people trying to help people calm down.”


    I heard Pop flip through the pages of a book, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the town; and I was impressed we were able to navigate it. There was one couple here, a small family there, exhibiting awkwardness or unexplained tension, nervousness, or fear.


    Pop muttered to himself, then spoke outside the camera view. “I should have thought about it sooner. Alice Foster did a lot for setting up how we build enforcements, and she broke the world when she unleashed the reality that magicians, witches and wizards were using ordinary objects to house magical energy. There haven’t been a ton of functioning prototypes, and a lot of success in that area. You’ve had to practically rebuild a garment, or a blade from the ground up in you want to embed magic into the makeup of an object.”


    “Do you think that''s what''s happening here?” Dad asked.


    “I would find it unlikely,” Pop said. “Mainly for the scale of the attempt. If these guys were after something, someone, a combination of both. Their efforts would be way more focused on and streamlined.”


    “Plans can change,” I added.


    “While true Emma,” Pop said, “the difference between having plans go wrong, versus incredibly wrong comes down to execution and framing this as a criminal group. They’re not coordinated and organized. Suzy, most likely, is calling the shots and all of this sounds highly experimental.”


    “Is there a magical version of the scientific method?” Tony asked.


    “Yes,” Pop said, “and this is one of the reasons why magical education is one of the biggest kept secrets. There have actually been solid scholars who have attempted to innovate, while at the same time there have been idiots who thought they knew better.”


    “Like Fowler,” Dad said.


    “Like Fowler,” Pop affirmed. “Now there are fairy tales when the witch manipulates the king to become a queen, but that isn’t something the average witch could accomplish. Likewise, it’s not something the average wizard could have pulled off to spark a large-scale war. Emotional energy isn’t like elemental energy. You can magically produce certain effects that create similar feelings or conditions, but that typically happens with potions, lotions, and perfumes and the effects wear off after a while or can be easily countered with a new of spells and talismans.”               “Fear is a pretty potent emotion,” I said, “Couldn’t someone recreate that uneasy feeling you get when you watch a slasher flick and dialed it up by ten or twenty?”


    “I assume so, but I’ve never heard, read or seen anyone do it.” Pop admitted, “Raw emotional energy like what you’re describing isn’t like charging kinetic energy into the side of a mountain to cause a rockslide, or to cast a barrier out at sea so the tide changes course and destroys boats or causing a small tsunami. Emotions break down, like when you’re angry and you get over it. The theory is that since emotions impact on the spirit and soul of a person, they can’t exist for a long period of time on their own outside a body.”


    “That would explain why the reactions were delayed, if even present.” Mom said.


    “True and I guess,” Pop began, but then consulted some papers. “I suppose that if the caster wanted to capture raw emotion, they’ve obviously done that and I don’t know if this is a thing, but perhaps they haven’t just enchanted the decorations, but they’ve supercharged them to hold an intense concentration. I’m not sure, this is new territory.”


    “If they’ve got the power after the attacks,” Tony said, “it sounds to me like they’ve got the makings to make a bomb, or possibly several bombs.”


    “One which they’ll denotate to get M.A.G.E’s attention,” Dad said, “and the rest they’ll use as a threat so they comply with their demands.”


    “It’s a reasonable theory,” Pop said, “and a bomb would be away to pack a punch, but I don’t know what sort of trigger or internal power source you would use apart from traditional materials, blasting oil, nitro, C4 which would defeat the purpose of the emotion.”


    “M.A.G.E. might be asking the same question,” Mom said, “and it would add an extra layer of pressure, and one they couldn’t disregard.”


    “They wouldn’t dare,” Dad said, “It would be to much of a risk.”


    “Have you taken a look at the footage from our car?” I asked. “Did you or grandma notice anything out of the ordinary?”


    “We did, but didn’t see anything beyond what you all have explained and considered.” Pop replied, “I can also say that no one out in our neck of the woods exhibited any kind of symptoms or a reaction so I would say that it was uniquely set within the city limits.”


    “Could today have been a practice run? Somehow,” I said, “What if they wanted to get their feet wet so they got it out into the public, and maybe it''s only a matter of time before they perfect their dispersal method. They’re gearing up for a final show.”


    “I didn’t see anyone with a switch, so it had to be something subtle,” Tony added.


    “Neither of us saw anything,” Dad said. “Everything was normal until people started running down the street. First, there were only a few people, and then increasingly came into view.”


    “What about this Frankie person?” Mom asked. “We don’t know a lot about him and what if we’re wrong and he caused it somehow. Are there creatures that can generate emotional energy or effects?”


    “Sure are,” Pop said, “Sirens or mermaids can create infatuation. Some certain fairies and sprites can induce a dream state and suspended animation. Fear is a trickier emotion to generate because the creator needs to have their targets feed on their environmental factors, like walking alone in the dark, or through a place like a back alley or a cemetery. I doubt there is a creature that can simply produce fear.”


    “If he can’t produce it, I bet Frankie manipulated it and that Jack-O-Lantern might have helped push it along,” I said, “this Kabal got what they needed from the students and the ghosts, so they set it up and let small events run their course. That waitress was nervous when she dropped her meals, and the other was probably scared when she nearly fell over.”


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “Magically enhanced phantom pain,” Mom confirmed. “You don’t feel it, but you can empathize with the other person. I’d buy into the idea, especially if they had a boost in that Jack-O-Lantern.”


    “If Frankie was causing all of those problems,” Tony said, “he''s got to be some kind of teleporter with a charm or the ability to turn invisible for small amounts of time.”


    “You know, I''ve been thinking about that,” Pop said, “and since you’ve brought it up. I’m confused why he drew attention to himself because the performance was and I quote, “insanely terrible” and that was only one review from this afternoon.”


    “It could have been a distraction,” Dad said, “If you want to scare someone you need them to expect the worst part of a moment is over. The waitress wouldn’t have realized the puddle was there, so in her head I bet she was gearing up to get chewed out by some patrons.”


    “The accidents and mishaps were intentional to make people drop their guard,” Mom said, “I bet when things calm down, there will be other news report’s locations dealing with minor annoyances and small problems.”


    “Do any of you recall if there were any noises,” Pop jumped back in. “This Frankie, part from his robust demeanor and flamboyant movements were there any unexplained movements, random pops, or bursts of air?”


    “There was a cowboy hat bouncing around the room,” I said, “but that could have been done by a waiter. I saw it on a peg or a nail, and then it was a on a donkey before it ended up on the Jack-O-Lantern.”


    I hooked some loose hair behind my ear. Mom and Dad, and Tony all voiced no suspicions or worries.


    “Sounds like super speed,” Tony said, “I bet Frankie was moving the hat around to see if anyone would notice.”


    “It’s definitely an innate ability, but I’d say no to the speed,” Pop said. “Speed spells aren''t as foolproof as some might think. It’s possible to do, but you need a special suit and a lot of training and a ton of self-control. To my knowledge, the best anyone has been able to accomplish to come close to what we know as super speed is around a minute, maybe two, and you have to be in constant motion. It puts a lot of pressure on your body. That’s why witches still ride on brooms, and wizards were known to use teleportation. It''s slower, but a lot safer. Wizards can control where they appear, and witches can manage the speed and pressure because it’s not being applied their bodies, but an object. To date, no one but a phantom, possibly a wraith or a poltergeist, could cause what you''ve described. And in the way you''ve described it.”


    “My money would be on the poltergeist,” Mom said. “They are a type of creature that prey on people''s fear and insecurity. They know who''s the most vulnerable in a crowd. And they are nasty critters who love to strike when you least expect it.”


    “I agree,” Dad said, “A poltergeist, correct me if I’m wrong. It’s the type of creature that can handle raw emotional energy without adverse effects. Maybe Goblins could do it in small doses maybe.”


    “A goblin couldn’t handle it at all,” Mom said, and then a realization spread across her face.“That would explain their irrational behavior when Melanie approached them. A witch, a wizard? Any level of M.A.G.E magician would have succumbed to it unless they had some kind of defense.”


    “If witches and wizards aren’t at risk, why weren''t we affected?” Tony asked.


    “They may have been, but they were on their guard today,” Mom said.


    “Plus, fear, as we’ve already determined is based on perceptions built on past experiences and insecurities,” Pop admitted. “Our operation isn''t foolproof, but we’ve all learned not to be afraid of a lot of things. Its hard to buy into a phony when we’ve seen the real deal.”


    “And there are the theories about the bundle,” Dad said.


    “Also true,” Pop said. “Maybe we have some kind of immunity. We don’t often get sick, and we’ve bounced back from some gruesome wounds.”


    “Hey Dad,” Tony said, “I think something is going on in that store’s parking lot.”


    “Alright,” Dad said, “let’s take a look.”


    We slowed down and immediately there were signs of small collisions, people throwing belongings at nearby cars, if not on the ground. We went down the center lane between sections of parking stalls, Dad made sure to go extra slowly just in case someone darted out from the space between cars. As we reached the end of the lane and were now sitting in front of the store. There was a line of straw bales that held up a variety of sale signs and groups of pumpkins. Near the edges of the festive display there were carved pumpkins, bats, and witches'' hats, Frankenstein statues, an inflatable ghost with large black eyes and a white sheet. Each one seemed innocent at first glance, but by now I could tell that they all were glowing.


    “Pop, are you seeing this?” Dad said.


    “I am,” Pop said, “and those are definitely not LEDs.”


    “Over there,” Mom nodded towards the bank in the corner of the parking lot adjacent to the sidewalk. A car idled in the closest stall while a man in his 50s danced at the ATM. As we got close, he glanced over his shoulder and through gritted teeth. He seemed more anxious whenever the screen timed out or beeped at him. He attempted a transaction, but then screamed when he input pin number or birthday wrong.  The man then gripped the edge of the ATM before He beat his fists against the machine a few times. He growled and then took his card and hurried back to his car nursing his wrist in the process.


    “If you can take one or more of those decorations,” Pop said. “We should test-”


    I heard Pop click his pen and fumble through a few pages, but the audio suddenly became static.


    That shouldn’t happen.


    “We’ll make the attempt,” Dad began. But he trailed off as static split the video feed. Pop looked concerned and began to work on it on his end, but soon, Pop was no longer visible to us. The video buffered, and everything he said became utterly inaudible before the screen went black.


    “Hello, my fine foes.” The voice was female, and I tried to mentally place it, but the speaker did that for me. Dad had started to move and nearly mounted the curb.  One car honked, but it moved around us and headed to the road.


    “You are an interesting group and while I would have loved to hang out and get to know you better, I’m sorry to say that I’ll have to get a rain check.”


    Then the voice changed, this time it was a suave male. “And don’t worry darling. I’ll be back for the second date.”


    The voice changed again. We were all too stunned to speak.


    “If you''re worried, I''ve been eavesdropping. I haven''t. But it hasn''t been for any lack of trying. I''ll let you know.”


    It was the voice of Amy One. And she changed to a male before she continued. This voice sounded like a salesman. Older, in their 50s, if I had to guess.


    “I''ve been around long enough to pick up a few skills, and I''ve only been able to hijack the audio of this call. I''m a bit surprised it worked. I came to town under bad assumptions. I occasionally run into local monster hunters, but all of you. There was coordination. There was serious skill.”


    The admiration was forced, and it made me cringe. What had she heard. How had she escaped? Amy One chuckled and then continued. “At some point, we should get together. I''d love to see your faces and maybe share some criminal charges with you. The vampire hunter especially. You were lucky and you played me for a fool.”


    Amy paused, then changed her voice again. But she began to speak immediately because she wanted her words to sink in. Dad immediately muted our side of the call, and he hit the gas. Working his way through town. I knew Dad wanted to ensure Pop and Grandma were all right.


    “What?” Asked the whiny teenage girl''s voice a moment later. “Nobody witty come back. No demand for answers? No show of domination of your superior powers and intellect.”


    And a quick look of concern, but we all remain silent. Dad tapped rapidly on the steering wheel with his thumb as we reached some intersections with heavier traffic. I haven''t quite recognized this as a nervous twitch, but it was slowly becoming one.


    “Well, believe me,” Amy said, still in the teenage voice. “I want you to know I''m coming for you. Shapeshifters work well at blending in; we know how to lie in wait. We''re almost like lions, in a way. We don''t worry about getting caught because you will never see us coming. And I don''t take lightly by having any enemy get the upper hand against me.”


    The video went black but then began to buffer. Amy still kept talking. This time, she assumed her voice when we started this unanticipated chat.


    “I won''t underestimate you next time. And I''m reasonable enough to acknowledge my opponent''s skills. And I''m sure you''re smart enough to figure out why I''m here. You might not want to, but if I were you, and if you have such moral high ground that you’re taking care of or extorting these lowly peasants called humans. I''d pay close attention to the upcoming Halloween carnival. Based on when I heard it''s going to be one for the history books.”


    There is a slight cut to her words. She laid the bait hook, line, and sinker. Then she disconnected her interference. Pleased to have had the last word.