She passed through the busy New Orleans street, unseen and untouched and to say that she did this in a literal fashion would be accurate. Both invisible and intangible, she phased through walls, vehicles, and the crowd with no one the wiser. Barriers didn’t matter to her as she floated immaterially into and through them. If any pedestrians had noticed her, they would have seen a woman with a pale complexion and flowing black and white cloak resembling a nun’s habit. The image would have been terrifying on any other night, but it would not have been out of place next to the various ghouls and monsters that were already roaming around.

Halloween in New Orleans wasn’t quite as famous or as scandalous as Mardi Gras but it was no less festive. The city block was lit up with glowing jack-o-lanterns as people in funny costumes watched the parade floats make their way down the street. A man dressed as a vampire tossed candy into the air and once they touched the ground, giggling children in bright costumes snatched them up and put them in their bags. A group of young adults pushed their way to the next bar on their Halloween pub-crawl list and as the ghostly nun passed by, she overheard a drunken argument between two men. “Dude, you can’t be dressed like that,” she heard one man slur, “It’s too soon.”

She noticed the second man had a familiar costume: gray wig, brown safari jacket, a prop knife holstered in his belt, and boots with what appeared to be plastic jet-boosters. “I’m showing support,” he said defensively. His friend shook his head and began to say something about the Resurgence but the man dressed as Rex Robinson cut him off, “Nah, man. The alien thing was all a conspiracy…”.

She agreed the costume was in poor taste but she wasn’t offended despite knowing Rex on a personal level for almost a century. During the so-called Golden Age of Superheroes, she and Rex were on a team called the Allied Front alongside Sgt. Stripes and the original Cavalier. They saved the world multiple times against would-be despots and metahuman threats, then Rex eventually disbanded the group to focus on taking a more philanthropist role in saving the world. He began using his vast knowledge for technological innovation while also taking a more political role in regard to Civil Rights. Sgt. Stripes didn’t share his views and she noticed Rex ignored the situation, likely to avoid conflict, and focused on his own goals by himself. She didn’t know if her other teammates noticed his insecurities (and that included Rex himself) but she always did, secretly. He cared a lot about people which the Phantom admired, particularly since she found herself losing touch with her own humanity. Her cold and off-putting demeanor was often attributed to the fact that she had been dead for many years. Fighting a battle in other realms for decades did nothing to reconnect her with the rest of the human race, either. By contrast, Rex was often called “The Hero of Humanity” and was mostly celebrated around the world. And yet, she often sensed a certain sadness in him. She knew he was a mentor to multiple generations of Cavaliers but didn’t attend the funerals of the ones who passed. He visited the deathbed of Sgt. Stripes when he died of cancer but even that seemed to be a means to bury the hatchet after the two men had a falling-out years earlier. He took a young Ryan Bennings under his wing in the 90s but was curiously distant when it came to Ryan’s personal troubles or being exploited by the US military. She could tell that Rex’s eternal optimism didn’t allow him to face the hardships of reality. She never knew how to broach the subject due to her own dissipating humanity but part of her wondered if she should have tried. It might have avoided the intergalactic conflict Rex started. Then again, she was likely too emotionally distant to provide any help that didn’t involve fighting supernatural threats. It didn’t matter either way. Rex was gone and she was all that was left of the Allied Front.

The Femme Phantom phased her way through a street corner, briefly entering a small cafe, and then turned down a side street which contained entrances to a variety of strange shops. At the end of the street was a small shop that had a sign on the door that read Mitzy’s Tarot Readings. She entered through the door without opening it. In a backroom, a mousy woman with stringy hair and thick glasses shuffled a deck of tarot cards while a younger woman sat on the other side of the table. A single lamp was hung above them, shedding chiaroscuro light around the room.

The mousy woman pointed to the Fool Card, “You’ve made a lot of bad decisions in your relationships,” she pointed to the Star card, “But your current path is bright. This guy at your work might be a good investment,” she began to pull another card from the deck when something caught her eye.

Femme Phantom’s dark vusage passed through the wall and entered the room silently. She shrieked, nearly dropping the cards. “Hoo lawd!,” the mousy woman’s cajun accent thickened for a moment before she regained composure and looked up at the concerned young woman seated across from her. “Sorry… thought I saw someth’n,” she pulled the final card which depicted The Lovers, “I think you know what this could mean. If the guy asks you out, say yes. Or, know what, ask the guy out yaself. Don’t always gotta wait for the man to make a move, darl’n.” The girl thanked her and paid for the services while the mousy woman pretended not to notice the dead nun staring at her from across the room. Once the coast was clear, she spun around and placed her hands on her hips, “Okay, new rule: don’t be all creepy-crawly while I’m work’n.”

“You summoned me, Mitzy,” Femme Phantom stated flatly.

“Doesn’t mean ya gotta be a spooky salop when ya show up,” Mitzy took the pack of cigarettes from a nearby shelf and placed one between her lips, “Damn near killed me. You know I have a door, right?”

“I apologize. What seems to be the problem?”

Mitzy lit her cigarette, briefly giving the room a bit more light, “I got another premonition. Something wants to come out and play tonight,” she reached into the deck of cards and pulled out the Devil’s card, “I went to the cards and got this fella. Never a good sign.”

“It’s All Hallow’s Eve,” the Phantom added, “Demonic work is strong on this night and especially in this part of the world where the holiday is more likely to be observed.”

“I’m not sure what the situation is,” Mitzy continued, “But I see images of the bayou. There’s a swamp nearby that’s always giv’n me weird vibes. I’ll give you directions.”

“Thank you,” Femme Phantom took the Lovers card off the table and examined it incredulously, “Do people often use Tarot cards for dating advice?”

“C’mon, Phantom,” Mitzy took the card from her hand and gave her a wink, “You know how young girls are. They’ll try anything to find someone to cuddle with on a rainy Saturday afternoon. I’m sure even you caught feelings at some point.”

Paris, 1939…

Sister Marie Elizabeth Champlain rushed down the long steps, nearly tripping on her habit. Normally, when she met Theo, it was in secluded areas at night, not on the street in the middle of the day. After all, she was the Major Superior and she couldn’t be seen with her secret lover. Or would he be considered an ex-lover? She rushed out to meet him on the street because she knew she had to make a choice. It was him or the Church and even as she made her way to him, she was conflicted about what she truly wanted. Unfortunately for them, she never had the chance to make her decision.

Theo owed money to local gangsters which was how he came to Marie Elizabeth’s parish. He had been hiding from the gangsters for some time and was sure they wouldn’t return to that part of the city. They drove past the area by chance and spotted him in the street, waiting for Marie Elizabeth, then they leapt out of their car with guns drawn. Once she got close to Theo, she paused, spotting the men racing toward them. There was no time for a warning. They opened fire. Theo was killed almost instantly and she was mortally wounded by stray bullets. In her dying moments, she noticed Theo’s pistol holstered in his blazer. She crawled on her belly to his dead body, leaving a trail of blood, and removed the gun in anger. As the two gangsters fled the scene, she raised up slightly and took aim. Her finger found the trigger but then she lost all strength and consciousness; she died before she could fire a single bullet.

Her next memory was of nothingness. She had been taught that Purgatory was the void between Heaven and Hell but she never realized how true that was. Nothing was there. Light and color were not present but neither was darkness. This plane of reality was even without dimensions which she knew was physically impossible. It was a realm that no living mortal could possibly inhabit nor properly describe. She knew there were other souls there but she could tell she had been separated from them and accurately surmised it had something to do the being hovering before her.

She recognized the angel by Biblical description: intertwining wheels with multiple eyes and wings. “Sister Marie Elizabeth Champlain,” the angel’s voice was like a trumpet, “Do bot be afraid. I am the Archangel Mikael.”

“This isn’t Heaven,” was all she said in reaponse.

“As of now, you are in Purgatory. You made a vow before God, little sister. Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“A vow to God cannot be broken without consequence and yet, you nearly did so just before death.”

“I love Theo,” she said sadly, “He was a thief and a gambler but he was repentant. If he had lived, he would’ve renounced his sinful nature.”

“Perhaps but that does not excuse breaking a vow.”

“But… I never got the chance…”

“This is also true. You served God well in your life aside from your final moments but you never fully turned away from your servitude. This is why you are currently in Purgatory. If you renounce your relationship with this man now, you will live in Glory with the All-Mighty. If you do not, you shall remain in Purgatory.”

Marie Elizabeth silently contemplated her choices but, once again, before she could make a decision, another being appeared. He had the stance of a man but was far taller; his skin looked like obsidian, his eyes were red globes, and his long hair was silver. He wore strange armor with massive bat wings that appeared to be badly burnt and when he spoke, it sounded like a roaring fire, “Typical behavior of Heaven,” he circled around the two, “They bless mortals with passion, love, and a sense of justice in life but punish them for it in death.”

“Who are you?,” Marie Elizabeth asked cautiously.

“Thank of me as the Good Samaritan,” the demon said as he passed behind her, “I saw your plight and decided to offer assistance.”

“I don’t need assistance from you,” she said with a scowl, “I know what you are and whom you serve.”

“His name is Arioch,” Mikael told her, “A fallen angel and the Demon of Vengeance.”

“You speak of my title as if there was something wrong with it,” he continued to pace like a caged animal as he spoke, “The angel offered you a peaceful death but I offer a purposeful life,” the demon positioned himself between Marie Elizabeth and Mikael, “A life in which you can seek justice against those who took what you love.”

Arioch raised his hands and there, resting on his palms, were twin pistols; French Model 35 S pistols to be exact (not that Marie Elizabeth knew the models at that time). They resembled Earthly weapons except that they both appeared to be made completely out of gold. “How loving can a god be if he denies vengeance to all but himself? Take these weapons and you’ll return to Earth. I understand the loss and pain you feel. The need for violence against those who killed the man you love. Don’t let it shame you. Let it strengthen you. The men who killed Theo deserve the punishment you’ll give them.”

“You’re quick to say what I want to hear but I know your actions are self-serving and to my detriment. I don’t accept any deals with demons,” Marie Elizabeth sneered.

“You’re wise to do so,” Mikael told her.

“And I recognize you,” she turned to the archangel, “Mikael, the Angel of Justice. You know that the men who killed us deserve to pay for their crimes. The demon offered me a chance to come back for revenge. Will you offer a second life committed to justice?”

“If you return, you will remain on Earth as a phantom, neither alive nor dead. You will find yourself losing much of what you once were,” Mikael warned, “Is that what you wish?”

“I want to do what I can so that innocent people won’t suffer the way Theo did.”

“So be it,” Mikael’s many eyes turned to the pistols still in Arioch’s hands. They levitated in the air, much to the demon’s chagrin, and a white light shone around them. “Weapons forged in Hell but blessed by Heaven,” the angel said as he lowered the guns into Marie Elizabeth’s hands. As she took the guns, she found her spiritual form shifting into something that could be returned to Earth. “You protected the innocent in life and now you will be a different sort of protector in death,” he told her as a black body stocking and a habit-like cloak formed around her.

Then, she was back in Paris and was surprised to learn a week had already passed during her time in Purgatory. She immediately tracked down the gangsters who killed her and Theo, frightening them into confessing to the police. This earned her the name Femme Phantom and from that time on, she committed herself to protecting the innocent as promised.

As time passed, she found herself forgetting much of her life. Her love for Theo was once enough to consider leaving the Church but in more recent decades, she had trouble even recalling his face. He was a distant memory. A shadow of emotions.

Femme Phantom left the city and arrived at a dark swamp as directed by her psychic ally. The algae-covered water was shallow and dark with weeping willow trees hanging above. It was considered an eerie spot even during the day and the cold autumn night did nothing to improve it. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but Mitzy’s intuition was always correct and she trusted it.

Nearby, along the bank of the swamp, five beams of light danced through the darkness. Five short figures carried flashlights as they made their way through the tall grass.

“There’s the swamp,” through the darkness, the voice of a young girl could be heard, “It looks really still.”

“Whadya mean?,” another girl asked.

“The water. It’s not moving. The book said still waters can bind these things. Like trap `em or something.”

“Whatever,” a third girl scoffed, “The crossroads ain’t even on the water so why’s that a problem? Let’s just find it.”

“I think I see it,” a fourth girl said as she shone her light through a grove of trees.

Past the trees and into a clearing, her flashlight caught an old, weathered milestone, indicating a pathway. The five girls made their way to the clearing and searched the ground until they found the remains of an old road made for a horse and buggy. They followed the road a few yards until they came to what appeared to be a second, intersecting road. “There’s the crossroad,” the fifth girl shouted before racing to the middle of the old intersection. They laid their flashlights on the ground to illuminate the area before sitting in a circle. The first girl removed the dusty old book from her backpack and laid it flat before opening it to a section that contained an Animal Crossing bookmark.

The book was originally compiled in the mid 19th century by a demonologist that chronicled the various religious beliefs and rituals in the New Orleans area. The book included when and where one could summon a demon but more importantly – how. The copy held by the girls was an edition written in the early 20th century due to an interest in the occult during that period. It eventually found its way into a private library and then an obscure book shop in New Orleans.

The first girl produced a candle, a stand, and a lighter. She lit the candle and drew a pentagram in the mud with a stick before reaching into her bag again. She opened the pocket knife and took a look at her friends, “Ya’ll sure you’re virgins? Spell won’t work unless we got five virgins.” The girls sheepishly nodded, then the first girl cut a small slit on her left palm, making sure it was appropriately bloody before passing the knife to the next girl. She likewise cut her left palm. This went on around the circle until all girls had a cut, then they all held hands. The first girl started the Latin chant located in the dusty old book and the others repeated.

The Femme Phantom, lured by the voices of the five girls, glided silently as she listened. Crossroads were useful tools in summoning demons and spirits and it was obvious that was the intent of these girls. What they wanted to summon and why would be a question for another time. She could easily stop them, but interrupting a summoning ritual could potentially be more dangerous than letting it happen. She had to wait until its completion.

Soon, the candle on the ground exploded, sending a pillar of red hellfire into the sky. The girls shrieked and let go of each others’ hands before pulling away from the flames. Once the fire died down, a figure began to emerge as if coming out of a fog, backlit by a light with unknown origins. The girls were frozen in fear and once the light died down, the figure could be seen clearly. Femme Phantom made no expression but she was very surprised to see Arioch hovering over the teenage girls. The demon smiled and offered a dark, gauntleted hand.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said in a deceptively sweet voice, “You girls summoned me did you not?”

The first girl nodded but was too fearful to answer verbally.

“Because you seek vengeance?,” the demon asked.

Again, there was a nod.

“Yes, I can feel it emanating from you as easily as you can feel a stiff breeze. It’s perfectly reasonable. Young girls such as yourselves are often prey to the evils of society. It’s a pity. Luckily, I can give you the weapons needed to exact your revenge. I only need your permission and…,” Arioch trailed off as his gaze fell on the dark trees, “… Oh, pardon me, but there seems to be someone else here who once sought what you seek now. I’m afraid we’ll have to reconvene.”

Femme Phantom moved out of the shadows and into the light, “Arioch,” she made sure to say his name as it held certain advantages while dealing with demons, “This time, I caught you before you manipulated a tortured soul into your service.”

“If you’re referring to that Irish fellow, I was hardly involved.”

“Lies,” she opened her palms and her pistols materialized in a second.

“So much for the reunion,” Arioch flicked his wrist and a twisted, black sword appeared. It had divots along the blade that contained glowing embers as if the weapon never cooled down after being forged. Arioch’s bat-like wings spread open and he flew to her in a flash, bringing his weapon down violently. The Phantom raised both pistols in an X shape, catching the blade between the two barrels; she pushed the sword aside with one gun and brought the second up at point-blank range, then fired.

As her guns were created by a demon and blessed by an angel, they were neither holy nor demonic. They were neutral. Because of this, they fired bolts of eldritch energy, a mystic source of power that had flowed through the Universe since creation. It was enough to send a high-ranking demon flying past the scared girls on the ground. Unfortunately, it was not enough to destroy him. Arioch, stopped the momentum of the attack in mid-air, spreading his limbs and wings as if bracing himself. The confident smile vanished and was replaced by a look of pure rage.

He returned to her location in a burst of speed; this time, he landed a punch to her chest which sent her into a tree hard enough to topple it and then into a second tree which broke in half. The Phantom’s guns disappeared for a moment so she could catch the falling trunk. She buckled under the weight for a moment but still managed to hold it over her head and then launch it at the demon lord advancing on her. Arioch performed an upward swing with his sword and when it connected with the tree, it exploded into hot ash. The Phantom flew backwards and phased through several more trees. Abandoning any element of subterfuge, Arioch flew after her with wings outstretched, his wide frame and wingspan knocking down every tree in his path. The noise echoed throughout the bayou as Femme Phantom made her way out to the swamp. The water was still and she knew it could be an advantage against a demon lord.

She looped into the air, firing shots from both pistols. Down below, the demon hovered above a mossy patch of the swamp and deflected the shots with his sword. “We haven’t had the chance to speak for some time,” Arioch began, “Tell me, Marie Elizabeth, how does unlife suit you?”

“I’ve nothing to say to you,” she held both triggers down, releasing streams of eldritch fire. He used his sword to block the flames, sending them to all sides of the swamp where they landed on top of the water. Due to the flames’ mystical nature, they were never dosed but rather, spread along the surface of the swamp. Meanwhile, Arioch continued to defend himself, “When your soul went to Purgatory, you were a perfect specimen, given a chance few would ever have. Casting a mortal soul out of Purgatory is far easier than removing one from Heaven or Hell. Your love gave you the adequate amount of passion for vengeance.”

“That passion is no longer a part of me,” Femme Phantom continued to release her flames, occasionally shifting to different angles. As she did, she commanded the flames to loop and twist into the air, attacking from all sides. As more and more flames were sent Arioch’s way, he swatted at them with his sword and the fire continued to rest on the surface of the water, illuminating the swamp. “How long has it been since blood pumped through your veins?,” he asked, “How long has it been since you mourned the loved ones you had while you were alive? Even in death, do you have any allies left? Rex Robinson was the last of them as I understand and he’s gone. I can’t imagine what that does to a mortal’s mind. It’s ironic since your current state was due to the love of one man and yet… I’m not sure you even remember his name.”

Arioch finally darted out of the fire’s range and flew over the water to the Phantom’s location. His sword plunged into her intangible form and while it didn’t cut her, it burned into her soul despite her efforts. It wasn’t often that she cried out on pain. Briefly, she returned to her solid state and the demon struck her across the face, sending her to the other side of the swamp where she splashed down into mud and wet grass. The Femme Phantom writhed on the ground while Arioch hovered above, his confident smile returning once more. “Your passion is as dead as your mortal form,” he told her, “Why keep fighting? I refuse to believe you haven’t grown weary of this world. Of course, while I’m sure you want to leave, I’m not sure Heaven will take you at this point. Hell, of course, is open to all. Want to reclaim your passions? I’m sure you’ll find something to pique your interest. You can stare at me with those cold eyes all you like but you know I’m right. You’ve already lived and died for everything you can possibly live and die for. You have no humanity left and humanity is normally the sort of thing that keeps people out of my realm. Give me a response, Marie Elizabeth! Say something before I lose patience!”

Femme Phantom gazed up at the demon and simply said, “Go to Hell.”

Arioch chuckled to himself as his sword grew hotter, “I’m going to enjoy this,” his sword ignited in Hellfire, “I can’t kill someone who’s already dead but I’m more than capable of making them beg to be sent to the very Pits of Hell!”

He flew forward one last time and once he got close to the bank of the swamp, a mystic force caught him and pulled him away from his target. “What?,” he shouted and turned his attention to the waters below. It was then that he noticed the Phantom’s flames were still on the surface of the swamp. She wasn’t a mage but she was savvy enough to know still water can work as a binding tool and eldritch flames have more than enough mystical properties to take the place of any Earth-based elements commonly used in rituals. All that would be left to complete the spell would be knowledge of mystic diagrams which the Phantom had picked up over the years. During their battle, she used her flames to draw interlocking triangular shapes – a mystic diagram known to few people. Arioch never bothered to see what shape the flames were taking as he deflected them and he was now imprisoned to that small body of water. He hovered over the swamp, the look of rage once again returning.

“When I told you to go to Hell,” she rose both pistols, “I wasn’t being figurative.” She crossed both arms and the flames rose before collapsing inward. “You’ll see I was right!,” Arioch shouted as he seemingly dropped into the center of the diagram, “I was riiiiiighht!” The flames dipped inward and swirled into a spiral that shrank more and more until it disappeared. With the demon sent back to Hell, the swamp was cleared and she returned to the girls in the woods.

They remained in the same spot, huddled together and now only lit by their discarded flashlights. Femme Phantom moved into view, her haunting gaze doing little to calm their fears. “You summoned the Demon of Vengeance tonight,” she stated ominously, “Tell me why.”

The girl who led the ritual pointed to one of her friends, “Her boyfriend cheated on her.”

The Femme Phantom raised her pistol from the folds of her cloak and fired a shot. Their spell book, which remained on the ground up until that point, burst into ash in a second, eliciting screams from the girls. “You turned to demonic forces to deal with your adolescent passions?,” the Phantom’s voice rose even though her facial expression didn’t change, “The potential consequences of your actions tonight are beyond your comprehension!”

“We just wanted to scare him a little,” came the meek voice of one of the girls.

“We weren’t gonna hurt anyone,” another spoke up.

“Your intentions are unimportant. That demon would have devoured your souls and more.”

“We…,” the girl sobbed, “We’re so sorry…”

The Femme Phantom stopped herself from saying anything else. The girls were young, fearful, and guilty: it was obvious they didn’t think the situation through. Emotions ran wild. The girls acted out of love for their friend and wanted revenge against the pain inflicted upon her. Now, they were simply scared. Somewhere, she remembered the grace and forgiveness she was taught as a nun. It was humbling and perhaps even human. She calmly extended a hand, “I suppose it’s all over now. Come. I will take you home.” Femme Phantom helped them to their feet. Silently, they left the swamp.

The next morning, Mitzy woke up to the sound of someone politely knocking on her door. Her apartment was just above her tarot shop, so she assumed it was a potential client wanting an early reading. “Business hours don’t start until 10, dumbass… read the sign,” she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled tiredly to the door, expecting to unload on a potential customer who didn’t understand boundaries. When she opened the door, however, she was surprised to find Femme Phantom calmly standing outside.

“You told me to use the door next time,” she said plainly.

“Yeah,” Mitzy found herself searching her surroundings for reasons she was unsure of, “Is something wrong? Did everything go okay last night?”

“Yes. I’m returning to Paris now but I was hoping to maybe share some tea before I left.”

Mitzy rubbed her eyes and wondered if she was dreaming, “You-you wanna… Can you even drink?”

“Yes. I remember it was common to drink tea with friends. I assume it still is.”

“We’re friends, huh?,” Mitzy shook her head, then motioned for her to enter, “I’m not sure what’s gotten into you but this might be good. Come in.”

“Thank you,” the Femme Phantom entered and then something happened that hadn’t happened in many years – she smiled. “And you can call me Elizabeth.”

END