C488 Darkhold

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In the dense wilderness of Louisiana, Peter followed the Ancient One through a winding path, surrounded by a thick forest. As they walked, the dense foliage gradually parted, revealing a massive mansion hidden amidst the trees. The mansion seemed to materialize out of thin air, as if it were a secret only the forest knew.

Halting at the edge of the property, Peter turned to the Ancient One with a curious expression. "So, this is where a witch lives. Makes sense, I guess. Now what? We're just going to wait?" he asked, his tone a mix of bemusement and confusion.

The Ancient One nodded solemnly. "No, I'm going to wait here while you go inside. My presence would alert Agatha to our intentions. She knows me, and if she sees me, she'll flee or hide. That would complicate your plans."

Peter scratched his head, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah that makes sense. So I guess I get to go into the creepy witches house alone? Lucky me..."

The Ancient One let out a small laugh. "Yes, well, Agatha has always had a flair for the dramatic. She tends to take the whole dark witch thing fairly seriously. Just remember that she is formidable, and her mastery of magic is not to be underestimated. After all, she's managed to escape multiple encounter with me and many other masters back at Kamar-Taj."

Peter conceded with a nod of understanding. "Alright then, I'll go in. Just keep an eye out for any ghosts, ghouls, or axe murderers..."

With a bemused look, Peter left the cover of the trees and walked toward the mansion. The imposing structure stood before him like a relic from a forgotten era, its grandeur marred by an eerie stillness. The mansion seemed to beckon him forward, reminding him of ever scary movie he's ever seen.

'I wonder if she meant for her house to look like this?' Peter wondered as he climbed the porch steps. 'Maybe she just a fan of horror movies?'

His knock on the front door echoed ominously through the quiet house, and with a slow, eerie creak, the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior.

Peter, despite his inner thoughts, called out, "Hello? Is anyone home?"

Silence greeted him, but he pressed forward, feigning innocence to lure Agatha out of hiding. His footsteps echoed through the cavernous halls as he explored the house, its atmosphere growing more unsettling with each step.

The mansion seemed devoid of modern amenities, with no electricity to light its dark corners. Peter's senses tingled with a foreboding feeling of unease as he strolled through what felt like a sinister maze.

Soon enough, Peter encountered the mansion's inhabitants, or rather, grotesque apparitions created by Agatha's dark magic.

"Hello there… Can I get you anything?"A butler, his mangled face obscured by all sorts of stitches, brandished an axe with deadly intent. Peter deftly dodged the attack, killing the spectral servant with a single punch imbued with Phoenix flames.

Next, he crossed paths with a pair of creepy maids, their blood-stained dresses a stark contrast to their pale complexions. They lunged at him with gleaming knives, but Peter's agility allowed him to swiftly take care of them as well, leaving behind nothing but flickering flames and dissolving dust.

His journey through the haunted mansion continued, encountering all sorts of other horror movie knock offs. Eerie children with hollow eyes and chilling songs, chainsaw wielding maniacs, ravenous dogs, each threat vanquished with a combination of quick reflexes and a touch of Phoenix flames.

It became apparent that these entities were some sort of security measure created by Agatha. 'This lady has to be a horror movie nerd. There's no way she just created all of these creatures without a bit of inspiration…'

Finally, Peter ascended a creaking staircase that led to the attic. There, on a mysterious pedestal, rested a book unlike any other. It was the Darkhold, an ominous tome that pulsed with malevolent energy, its pages containing the forbidden knowledge sought by many.

Just as Peter reached out to grab the book, said book disappeared before his eyes as a sweet yet chilling voice filled the attic. "Is there a reason why you're trespassing in my house?" The voice dripped with an eerie sweetness, concealing the danger that lurked behind it.

Peter slowly turned to face the source of the voice, his senses on high alert. Standing in the shadows was a woman, her eyes glowing with a sinister gleam. It was Agatha Harkness, who held the Darkhold tightly held in her grip.

[Insert picture of Agatha here]

As Peter and Agatha locked eyes, a tense standoff ensued. "Hey, has anyone ever told you that your house is creepy as hell?" Peter asked, destroying the atmosphere in an instant.

"What?" Agatha asked in confusion.

"I mean, every hallway is filled with these horror movie knock-offs. And how do you live here without electricity or wifi? What are you doing all day?" Peter asks again, truly curious. "If I didn't have wifi or electricity, I think that I'd kill myself pretty quickly…"

The more Peter rambled, the more angry Agatha seemed to get. In a matter of seconds, her eyes narrowed as her grip on the Darkhold tightened. "If you want to die so badly, then why don't I give you a hand?"

Without hesitation, Agatha extended her hand, fingers dancing through intricate arcane gestures. With a whispered incantation, she summoned bolts of dark magic, which crackled with malevolence. The dark tendrils surged toward Peter with deadly intent, aiming to ensnare him.

Peter, however, was no stranger to facing formidable adversaries. "Woah! Is this how you treat all your guests?" In a swift, fluid motion, he summoned his Phoenix flames, creating a fiery shield that absorbed Agatha's dark bolts with ease. The dark magic sizzled and dissipated, unable to penetrate his defenses. "Are all witches this rude? Didn't Hansel and Gretel at least get some food before they were eaten?"

Seeing her initial attack thwarted, Agatha's eyes narrowed with determination. She changed her tactics, employing her telekinesis to hurl nearby objects at Peter. Furniture, books, and even shards of glass became deadly projectiles, whizzing through the air with frightening speed.

Peter's agility came into play as he gracefully dodged the incoming onslaught. He moved with precision and grace, his spider senses allowing him to evade every object with a dancer's finesse. "Is this all you've got? A few books and some furniture? Aren't you supposed to be some big bad witch?" Peter taunted as the attic became a chaotic battleground, littered with debris as their clash intensified.

With a flick of his wrist, Peter retaliated. He conjured the two Eldritch whips, directing them toward Agatha. The shimmering whips surged forth, illuminating the dim attic with their brilliance.

Agatha responded by raising a mystical shield, crafted from the dark magic she wielded. The clash of energies created dazzling displays of light and shadow, each side vying for dominance. The pressure between them was immense, a testament to their respective strengths.

In the midst of the battle, Agatha attempted to transmute the very floor beneath Peter's feet. The wooden planks warped and shifted, threatening to engulf him in a trap of her making. But Peter, ever resourceful, called upon the Reality Stone that was infused within him.

With a mere thought, Peter willed the floor to return to its original state, thwarting Agatha's attempt at entrapment. The attic's reality shifted under his command, a testament to the incredible power he possessed.

"How…?" Shocked, Agatha couldn't help but ask.

Peter smirked tauntingly. "Magic."

Realizing that her direct magical attacks were ineffective against Peter, Agatha changed her strategy once more. She called upon the Darkhold and summoned ominous tendrils of energy, aiming not at Peter directly but at the surroundings. The attic's objects and furniture began to come to life, manipulated by her will.

Chairs levitated menacingly, while ghostly hands emerged from the shadows, reaching for Peter with malevolent intent. Agatha's mastery over dark magic allowed her to animate the very environment, turning it against her foe.

Peter responded by channeling some Eldritch energy once again. He summoned a swirling vortex of mystical energy, a tornado of light that engulfed the animated objects and spectral hands. With a powerful surge, he banished them, their dark presence dissipating into nothingness.

The battle raged on, with Agatha hurling blasts of purple energy from her hands, each attack more desperate than the last. Peter countered with his Phoenix flames, creating fiery projectiles that seared through the air.

In a final, desperate bid for victory, Agatha attempted to summon the spirits of the deceased, raising the dead to fight on her behalf. Shadowy apparitions emerged from the corners of the attic, their hollow eyes fixated on Peter.

Peter, undeterred, pulled on the power of his Phoenix flames. With a wave of his hand, he created a fiery barrier that repelled the spectral intruders, returning them to the afterlife from which they had been summoned.

Soon enough, the battle reached its climax, with Agatha's powers waning in the face of Peter's unwavering strength. As she realized the futility of her efforts, her expression turned from one of determination to one of resignation. She knew the odds of her victory were slim and was already beginning the plans for her escape.

But before she could take a single step, a sudden and unexpected presence made itself known. The Ancient One, her presence concealed until now, materialized behind Agatha with an aura of unparalleled power.

With a swift and decisive motion, the Ancient One extended her hand, conjuring a blade made of shimmering Eldritch energy. Without hesitation, she swung the blade with precision and skill, severing Agatha's head from her shoulders in a single swift motion.

Agatha's body crumpled to the ground, her powers fading as the darkness within her dissipated. "You b*tch…" Her severed head spoke its last words before landing with a thud, Agatha's malevolent gaze forever stilled.

Peter watched with casual glance as the Ancient One's actions unfolded. He had sensed her presence, so he knew she would do something. Though he didn't expect her to sever Agatha's head so suddenly. 'I guess they had some unresolved history…'

The Ancient One, her expression triumphant, turned her attention to the Darkhold, the ominous tome that had been the source of so much chaos. With a wave of her hand, she levitated the book, ensuring that neither Peter nor herself would touch its dangerous pages.

"Peter," she said, her voice steady and commanding, "use your Phoenix flames to destroy it."

Peter nodded As he summoned his Phoenix flames, creating a searing blaze that enveloped the Darkhold. The malevolent tome seemed to screech in pain as it ignited in a brilliant display of fiery destruction, its pages consumed by the cleansing flames.

"That wasn't creepy at all…" Peter muttered sarcastically as the book turned to ash.

A/N: 1825 words :)

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