Chapter Seventeen: Why Can’t We Be Friends?

Chapter Seventeen: Why Can’t We Be Friends?

            By the time she reached the streets that intersected the Ghostbusters’ firehouse headquarters, Genevieve was drenched in her own sweat. Her heart was practically beating through her ribcage, and her pulse raced faster than a horse at a track. She was on the verge of regurgitating, and a great deal of numbness overwhelmed her legs. Despite all the strain she went through getting there, she couldn’t give up, especially with her cursed teammates gaining on her. The firehouse was still partially intact with the exception of the front entrance having a massive gaping hole in it. The only area that she was concerned about at the moment was the basement where the “Containment System” and the secret compartment opened by Christina were located (the latter being her primary focus).

BOOONNNNGGGGSSSSHHHH!

Two particle streams suddenly zapped over her head and connected with the side of the firehouse, taking out huge chunks of brick and concrete. It appeared that their “Ghostbuster Instincts” started to kick into high gear, and they were using them on her. If those streams hurt the ghosts they busted, then she could only imagine how much damage it could do to a human being. This situation proved itself to be more vicious and deadly by the second.

Dodging another fierce blast of energy fired from J.G. Stantz’s Proton Pack, Genevieve crawled into the ravaged firehouse. She pushed through lots of debris to get to the staircase leading to the basement; unfortunately, when she was just a few feet from it, four particle streams cut her off, and she nearly got her face burnt from one. She turned to her right and saw the possessed Ghostbusters standing on a massive pile of rubble, aiming their throwers directly at her.

“End of the line, rookie!” J.G. exclaimed, his voice eerily overlapped by Maleficent’s.

“You’re dead meat, sucka!” Natalie added with a sinister grin on her face, her voice also overlapped by Maleficent’s.

It was frightening for her to realize that their subconscious was amalgamated with the wicked persona of Maleficent, turning them into the perfect slaves. This must’ve been how every possessed citizen of New York turned out after the “plague.” If that were so, then pretty much everything did depend on her at the moment. New York City needed the Ghostbusters now more than ever to save it from this remarkable threat. The unlicensed nuclear accelerators on their backs hummed with intensity stronger than usual. Genevieve would like to think they were currently charged with evil, ghostly energy to make them a thousand times more powerful. Whatever the case, she was going to be the main target of its power, unless she got out of dodge immediately.

BOOONNNNGGGGSSSSHHHH!

The instant that the streams came, Genevieve was already airborne, diving to the staircase rather than running to there. The particle streams whizzed all around her soaring body, but neither of them made any contact. One, however, got close enough to burn right across the upper half of her right sleeve, disintegrating the Ghostbusters logo patched on there and leaving a gaping hole that showed unscathed flesh.

Although she was left unharmed by the streams, the fall she had taken down the staircase was enough to wrack her body in pain. It was the sacrifice she took to avoid the Ghostbusters’ streams, choosing bruises over third-degree burns graciously. By the time she hit the bottom of the stairs, she could barely believe that she was even still alive. After getting cut on the hand, running fifty blocks, nearly having been set on fire, and falling down a flight of stairs, she hoped to God that there was something in that secret compartment that would bring her teammates out of their possession.

She heard footsteps approaching the top of the staircase and quickly got to her feet, wincing over the slightest move she had taken. While she dashed over to the squared, well-carved hole straight ahead, the Ghostbusters were already climbing down the stairs, their Proton Guns firmly gripped in their hands. If this did turn out to be Genevieve Marie’s last stand, what a fitting place for it than in front of the “Containment System” where all of the ghosts captured by the team met their demise.

Genevieve collapsed as soon as she had reached the hole, exhausted and pain rapidly taking over. Looking right inside it for some glimmer of hope, the only thing she found was a Slime Blower, the same device completed with a metal tank and sprayer that projected the psychomagnetheric “mood slime” used against Vigo the Carpathian. She was familiar with this device and its effects after witnessing Jafar’s reaction to it while being placed under arrest in the aftermath of the Museum of Natural History incident; it was a sure bet that it was the key to curing the Ghostbusters.

“Prepare for eradication!” She heard Spengler say, not daring herself to turn around to see how close they were. They had to be pretty close, considering the fact that she felt the intense heat of the Packs seeping her way.

Her hand was already on the Slime Blower’s sprayer as the Ghostbusters had her cornered. “You guys wanna know the best part about this job to me?”

“Eh…no, not really,” answered Natalie.

Ignoring her response, Genevieve provided one of her own, “It’s all the slime you want!” And with that, she twirled around as fast as she could and unleashed a geyser of mood slime their way. The pressure was almost as high as a fire hose and enough to push all four of the Ghostbusters back, knocking them down on the floor. Once she realized that they had (literally) slipped into unconsciousness, she immediately shut off the sprayer.

The Ghostbusters were sprawled across the slimy puddle on the floor, their clothes practically drenched in the mood slime. For a moment, Genevieve feared that she might’ve killed them, seeing how inert their forms were; but then she noticed J.G.’s arm move and Jacqueline lifting herself off the wet floor. Soon all four of them were on their feet with their eyes still closed, due to the slime that covered them. Genevieve kept the sprayer still aimed directly at them, in case those eyes were still glowing green once they were opened.

Wiping slime away from them, the Ghostbusters opened their eyes to reveal their individual eye colors. Genevieve smiled, feeling a wonderful sense of relief that she was able to break the spell with the Slime Blower. However, she didn’t quite expect what happened afterwards when Natalie opened her mouth and started joyfully singing:

“Hello world, here’s a song that we’re singin’…”

And then the other three joined in, adding a psychedelic dance to it:

“Come on, get happy! A whole lotta lovin’ is what we’ll be bringin’…We’ll make you happyyyyyyy!”

Seeing this incredibly odd display, Genevieve almost wished that she had her cell phone with her to capture it on video and (maybe) put it on YouTube. She could see the million hits right now on a video aptly titled “The Partridge Busters.” The best she could’ve done was depend on her photographic memory and try to keep this incident to herself.

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            Some quick showers were the best remedy for snapping the Ghostbusters out of their happy moods. They had to burn their slime-drenched clothes for the sake of avoiding ectoplasmic contamination, according to Spengler. This forced them to wear their old uniforms stored in the lockers, a choice they welcomed graciously. Natalie, whose uniform had been worn in a tattered and somewhat odorous manner by Genevieve, had to pull out her spare one, which she always kept hanging next to the other in the case of a messy bust (something that occurred all too often). Putting these old uniforms on again brought back a sense of nostalgia that they each had been feeling for the past days; only this time, it was much greater, almost as if they had never given up being Ghostbusters. And it was all thanks to Genevieve, this one special young woman who brought them back together to stop the threat that now loomed over them.

While gathered in the ravaged garage area, the Ghostbusters surveyed all of the damages, including those done to the Ecto-1. “Eh, it was getting to be a piece of junk anyway,” noted Jacqueline, who gave a slight kick on one of the front tires.

“Even if it was, we sure had a lot of fun driving it around,” Natalie lamented.

“What do you mean ‘we’?!” Jacqueline snootily asked her. “It was me who did most of the driving.”

Natalie smirked. “Hence the reason it was so much fun.”

Jacqueline shook her head at Venkman as they joined up with the others, who were gathered together in Natalie’s adjacent office. On her desk was the Slime Blower device, which was being inspected by Spengler; he sat there with Genevieve standing right next to him. Meanwhile, J.G. was at the corner of the room and staring off into space, no doubt thinking about Vanessa.

“Excellent idea on using the Slime Blower to break the spell, Genevieve,” complimented Sean. “It amazes me that Maleficent’s power had no effect on it whatsoever. Its positive charge of ectoplasm could possibly have something to do with that.”

“It was nothin’,” Genevieve sheepishly remarked. “Any of you guys would’ve done the same thing, if you were in my position.”

“Exactly the point,” said Natalie. “It took thinkin’ like a real Ghostbuster to save our butts like you did, Rookie.” Sean and Jacqueline both nodded in agreement with Venkman, making Genevieve blush and smile. “Don’t you think so, Jay?”

All heads turned to Stantz, who didn’t respond to Natalie’s question at all. He still continued to focus on the floor, his mind drifting off on what could be happening to Vanessa at that point in time. Genevieve noticed the concern on his face, as well as the anger and fear of losing the love of his life; she wished there was something she could’ve told him to help make the anger and fear go away. Even if she could at the moment, he wouldn’t have let her have the chance as he abruptly asked Spengler, “Is the Blower that we need to break through those defenses?”

Sean was caught off guard for a moment, expecting J.G. to at least acknowledge Genevieve’s success also. “The positive charge of the slime makes it a powerful weapon against any evil, including Maleficent. It’s also enough to break the spell over everyone else.”

Briskly nodding his head, J.G. picked up his Proton Pack and strapped it on. “Then let’s not waste time making comments. We’ve got a world to save.” He was already making his way towards the exit, not choosing to wait on his teammates to get prepared.

Sighing in despair over their friend’s reckless behavior, Natalie and Jacqueline picked up their own Packs and strapped them on. As they followed J.G. out of the firehouse, Natalie walked up to Genevieve, placed a hand on her shoulder, and said, “And this is why I never take my relationships too seriously.” With a wink and a smile, she dashed right out of the headquarters.

Genevieve prepared herself for departure as well until Sean stood up and addressed her. “Before we leave, I have to give you something.” He headed over to his locker and opened it, pulling out a large steel trunk. Entering the combination on the lock that kept it securely shut, he opened the trunk to reveal what had been kept inside for a whole year: a highly-advanced Proton Pack, equipped with devices that combined all of the equipment used by the Ghostbusters, including the Slime Blower.

Gazing on this Proton Pack that was more supped up than the others, Genevieve almost felt like a technological geek at a Sharper Image store. “Oh, wow! What is this?”

“You remember when I said how we were going to need powerful tools to fight otherworldly forces like Maleficent?” Sean inquired, before patting the advanced Proton Pack. “This is precisely what we need.”

Genevieve shook her head and smiled. “Why didn’t you mention this after we first met back in the college?”

“Because I never quite tested its functions once I finished work on it,” Spengler replied. “A day after its completion, the Mayor shut down our business.”

“Well, I’d say now is a better time than any to put it to the test.”

She was about to pick the machine out of the trunk, but Sean had gotten to it before her, quickly and yet cautiously lifting it out. “I feel it’s in my duty as not just a Ghostbuster or a scientist but a human being to inform you of the extreme risk you’d be taking when using this device.”

“With all due respect, Dr. Spengler, I already know about the whole ‘Not Crossing the Streams’ thing.”

“It’s more than just that. The levels of protonic energy in this Pack are higher than the others. Even two minutes of firing a particle stream will possibly eradicate every living molecule within sixteen feet.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened in caution over this information; here it was – the most powerful defense against Maleficent and every other supernatural force in their way – and the only con to using it would be death. It didn’t seem quite fair. But what more could she expect from a situation like the one they were currently in?

Maleficent needed to be stopped. If that meant sacrificing her life and (possibly) the lives of others, then so be it. She only hoped that it really would be just her life that would be on the line. Compared to these great heroes of New York City, she was just another schmuck off the streets, wanting to be part of the in-crowd more than anything else. If she died tonight, then not very many people would care.

“I knew the risks comin’ into this, Dr. Spengler,” she admitted. “I’m not gonna let some little setback like this keep me from doing what I’ve gotta do to save this world.”

Sean nodded, still feeling unsure about handing this responsibility over to her; he was just glad that she had the true spirit of a Ghostbuster to take it head-on. While handing the advanced Proton Pack over to her, he instructed, “Just keep it on the Slime Blower setting and you’ll be fine. And if you do happen to use the Proton setting, keep your blasts very brief.”

Genevieve strapped the machine to her back, surprised that it wasn’t nearly as heavy as the other Packs were, despite the additional functions it had. Detaching the particle thrower from it, she flipped the switch and it hummed stronger and deeper than the average Proton Pack. “Let’s do this,” she said with an intense determination registered on her face.

Chapter Sixteen: Two Souls Are Better Than One

Chapter Sixteen: Two Souls Are Better Than One

            The moon looked bold and bright in the ominous black sky. From the roof of the Tipton Hotel, Hades knew just from looking at it that this was the perfect evening to take over the world. The only problem was…how was he going to do it? He knew he should’ve asked the Fates what it was that they tried to warn him about. Maybe it had something to do with how he conquers everything, or maybe they were trying to alert him of any possible threats…like the Ghostbusters. That’d be impossible, because they were supposed to be destroyed before Hades became ruler; that was, if Jafar got the job done right.

All of these suspicions and thoughts made Hades feel extremely agitated. There were many ways this “master plan” could go right and many ways it could go wrong. It was one of the things that he hated about having overseers as advisors. Why couldn’t he have turned to someone a little less psychic? Like John Edwards?

“Uh, Hades?” he heard Panic call out for him. Just what he needed: one of his idiotic minions bugging him while lost in thought. “Did we give any of these soon-to-be-slaved mortals permission to come up here?”

Hades’ eyes scrunched up over the oddity of the question as he turned to face his minions. “What’re you morons talkin’ abo…?” He stopped as soon as he saw a scruffy-looking man with familiar yellow eyes on the rooftop with a beautiful brunette that he had one hand roughly clinging onto. The brunette looked frightened and struggled under the man’s grip; but, no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t escape from him. “O.K., I’m not the one to butt into anyone’s personal business, but if you two have marital problems, I suggest goin’ to Maury about it.”

“I need you, Hades,” the scruffy-looking man articulated.

The face of the Lord of the Dead registered a huge sense of awkwardness. “Alright…now I’m suggesting Jerry Springer.”

The man’s other hand was hiding behind his back the whole time he faced Hades; when he finally stuck it out, he revealed himself to be holding a staff with a green orb at the tip. “It’d be an impossible task to execute. But with my powers near complete rejuvenation, it should not be too difficult.”

Hades was still puzzled over whom this stranger was and what he was babbling about; however, that staff he held looked very familiar. Now that he thought of it, that woman he brought along with him looked familiar herself. “Listen…whatever ya want, buddy, you sure ain’t gonna find it up here.”

“On the contrary, Hades,” the man said before pointing the tip of the staff towards the Lord of the Dead, “Everything here is exactly what I want.”

The flames on Hades’ body grew as he glared at the man. “This is my moment of glory, not yours…Maleficent.”

The man grinned, tightening his grip on the staff, which slightly glowed at the tip. “I suppose there is no need to lengthen this ridiculous charade. So let us ‘cut to the chase,’ as these mortals say today.” He let go of the woman in his grasps, and she surprisingly remained where she was, not making any attempt whatsoever to escape. “Gods can be just as inhabitable as mortals for powerful spirits like me. They are also incredible boosts of energy…rare energy for ghosts.”

Hades chuckled. “Please. Okay? If you think that this body can be possessed by some storybook flunky, then you’re gravely mista—”

A long, familiar black tentacle suddenly wrapped around his body and squeezed him so tight that it prevented him from flaming up or even phasing. It was not any normal tentacle; it belonged to Ursula, who was posing as the woman Maleficent brought with her; the tentacle stuck out from under the long dark blue evening gown she wore in her human form. Hades tried to verbally assault her, but he found it extremely difficult to talk while being squeezed into the form of an hourglass.

Ursula crossed her arms and grinned at the subdued god of the underworld. “What do you say now, Hades?” It was Ursula talking, but the voice itself was masked to match the rest of the appearance. “Is this better than what you intended?” She squeezed harder and Hades squawked in pain. “I told you that I deserved some payback for rescuing your pathetic afterlife. And now I’m going to get it…through Maleficent.”

The eyes of Hades darted from Ursula to Maleficent, whose eyes and mouth began to glow in a bright yellowish hue through the taxi driver’s body. A haze of ghostly energy then seeped out, hovered through the air, and entered into the open mouth of Hades. The underworld god’s mouth and eyes then glowed themselves, as did the rest of his body, which Ursula removed her grasp over soon afterwards; it flamed up again, only this time the fire wasn’t orange or blue—it was a bizarre shade of green.

Nathaniel, the once-possessed taxi driver, was on the verge of collapsing; but Ursula’s tentacle wrapped around his waist and propped him up, long enough for Maleficent (in Hades’ body) to walk up and take her staff from his hands. As she held the staff in Hades’ chilling blue hands, the green orb at the tip glowed brighter than it ever had before. The unimaginable happened: a god possessed by a spirit. It was enough to be something greater than even Zeus himself—should he ever try to stop her. Then again, her powers had always gone unnoticed by the gods with the obvious exception of Hades; it was that dark link she had to him that made him such a suitable subject for this possession.

“You should have listened to the Fates, Hades,” Maleficent advised, her regular voice like an echo overlapping his. “They tried to tell you that it just wasn’t you controlling this realm. It was both of us…together.”

Maleficent looked towards Hades’ throne, which Pain and Panic were cowering behind, after witnessing the possession; she focused on them while approaching it, her staff like a lantern guiding her through the eerie darkness. It was Panic who (living up to his name) broke down and cried out for mercy, “Don’t hurt us! Please!”

Pain had done just the same soon after him. “We’ll do anything! We’re not completely useless!”

The face of Hades reflected Maleficent’s amusement over their pathetic pleas. “No…you’re not,” she said.

Suddenly, the small, frail bodies of Pain and Panic glowed in a bright greenish color as they were lifted off the floor. They squirmed to no avail but soon weren’t moving at all, once their arms and legs transformed into hard, cold stone. The two minions screamed while the rest of their bodies turned to rock. When their mouths finally transformed, their screams were silenced.

They resembled gargoyles—scared gargoyles—in the current state they were in. If they were still conscious of what happened to them, then they were undoubtedly still crying in pain. With the power of her staff, Maleficent set the stoned figures at the edge of the rooftop where they faced the entire New York skyline, looking no different than any of the others around the city.

After Hades’ minions were taken care of, Ursula turned to the taxi driver she had been propping up with her tentacle. “What shall we do with this one?”

Maleficent looked at the man and sneered at him. “Dispose of him in any way you see fit. He’s no longer any use to us.”

“There’s only one way to truly dispose of human filth like this,” said Ursula, who then afterwards tossed the man over the edge, sending him falling several stories to his death.

Not once acknowledging the evil act committed by the Sea Witch, Maleficent kept her focus solely on Hades’ throne. Standing right in front of it, she raised her staff high above Hades’ head and then, with incredible force, jabbed it directly into the throne. “Tonight…a new era begins,” she said, as the throne and everything else on the Tipton Hotel’s rooftop began to glow in a greenish hue.

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“You know, there are a million taxi drivers all around New York City,” said an impatient Natalie. “How do we intend on finding one with yellow eyes and the personality of Joan Crawford?”

J.G. wasn’t listening to a word that she was saying, too heavily focused on the road and each individual taxicab that they passed by. “¡Ah, mi Dios! ¡Espera, mi amor! ¡Vengo!” The others in the Volvo exchanged awkward glances as he talked to himself in Spanish.

“What did he say?” Genevieve inquired.

“Something about loving pizza…I dunno,” Natalie remarked.

Stantz made a hard left turn at the next corner, causing his passengers to have their faces pressed up against the windows. Several passing vehicles honked at him in the process as he nearly collided head-on with them. Once they were steady on the road again, the others unstuck their faces from the window and frowned at J.G.

“Jay! Relax, man!” Jacqueline cried. “Your girlfriend isn’t the only thing at stake here, alright? In case you’ve forgotten, Hades is only minutes away from wiping out our entire universe.”

J.G. took a deep breath. “I know. O.K.? She…She’s the best thing that ever came into my life.” He heard Natalie scoffing behind him and, needless to say, was greatly offended. “You know, you guys just don’t get what it’s like to be truly in love with some—”

CRASH!

As they passed through the Tipton Hotel, the body of a man crashed on top of a vehicle, causing it to swerve out of control and collide with two parked cars. Witnessing this dreadful accident first-hand, J.G. slammed on the brakes and stopped the Volvo in the middle of the street, just as other vehicles had done the same. A massive traffic jam was formed in less than a second, several cars honking at one another; and in the center of it all were the Ghostbusters, who climbed out of the Volvo and looked high up at the Tipton complex.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!” Natalie bellowed.

At the very top of the building, there was an ominous green glow of light that started to spread to the rest of the building. Thick thorns formed around the building, some coming out through windows and looping over others. The people inside the hotel ran out in panic over this strange occurrence, gathering with the crowd that had already assembled on the street.

Mr. Moseby, Maddie, London, Carey, Arwin, and Zack were one of the many that had made it out. Genevieve noticed them almost immediately and got a strong sense of déjà vu. This whole incident was just a reminiscent of the one in 2004 with the arrival of Gozer; the only major difference was the green glow and the bundles of thorns shrouded around the building.

“No doubt this is where our gal, Maleficent, is hiding,” Natalie deduced before reaching into the Volvo for her Proton Pack and putting it on. “Well, team, we’ve been through this song and dance before.”

“Yeah, only this time it’s a different tune,” Jacqueline added as she, Spengler, Stantz, and Genevieve placed their Proton Packs on also. “I still say we should get out of dodge, while we’ve still got our lives.”

Natalie shook her head and grinned. “Four years of being a Ghostbuster and you still wanna chicken out? You’re no fun anymore.” Jacqueline gave her a dirty look while detaching her particle thrower from the pack.

“Well, I’m not chickening out of this,” J.G. boldly declared. “That flame-headed monster is keeping Vanessa up there, and I intend on getting her out, safe and unharmed.”

Sean aimed his P.K.E. Meter towards the thorn-shrouded Tipton Hotel. The levels he received from it were way higher than the usual ones from Maleficent. He could only deduce that the extra amounts of psycho-kinetic energy came from the thorns themselves. “Those thorns are wracked with strong, and presumably negative, waves of P.K.E.,” he informed.

“Let’s just skip all the small talk and blast it away, shall we?” Natalie suggested, already aiming her particle thrower at the front entrance.

The others did the same and, without notice, fired at the thorns blocking the entrance, which brought great amazement out of the nearby onlookers, who were witnessing the first act of heroism from the team in a whole year. Their streams hit the thorns for minutes, but not a single one dented, scratched, or snapped on impact. After a few seconds more, the Ghostbusters turned to each other and shook their heads, signaling for a ceasefire. They switched off their throwers in defeat and gazed on the smoking thorns that continued to cover the entrance.

Now this started to resemble the 2007 incident at the Museum of Natural History with Vigo the Carpathian, as he covered the entire museum in an impenetrable shell made out of slime. Genevieve seriously doubted if Lady Liberty could save them from this situation. “This is quite a catastrophe,” she commented.

“There’s gotta be some way to penetrate these thorns,” J.G. implored.

Genevieve walked right up to the blocked entrance, closely studying the thorns. “What if we just climbed up them?”

“I’d highly decide against making physical contact with them,” Spengler remarked.

“Yeah, especially with no gloves,” Natalie added.

“Oh, it’s easy,” Genevieve stated. “Just avoid the areas on the branches that have…” As she reached up to grab one of the branches to prove her point, she was suddenly stricken by a thorn, leaving a bleeding gash right across her left palm. “Ah, shoot!”

The others ran up to check on her, J.G. being the first one to approach with more concern than he had been showing the past hours over his girlfriend. “You okay?” he asked.

“Hurts like heck, but I’m cool,” Genevieve acknowledged, slightly wincing as J.G. pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wrapped it around her wound.

Suddenly, they heard a weird pulsing noise and felt a tremendous quake beneath their feet as the Tipton building unleashed a wave of psycho-kinetic energy all throughout the city. In mere seconds, it was all illuminated in the same greenish hue that covered the Tipton; the only exceptions were the citizens of New York, who stood out from the eerie shade of the color; however, it wasn’t for very long. One by one, the eyes of the New York citizens (including the residents of the Tipton Hotel) glowed green themselves, falling under the spell created by Maleficent. Their bodies went rigid, and their fists clenched, walking like zombies towards Genevieve and the Ghostbusters.

Genevieve’s eyes widened in horror, seeing the eerie display with her teammates.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” she suggested. “We’ve gotta get away, before they…” She felt herself being restrained and realized that Venkman, Spengler, Stantz, and Zeddemore were individually clasping onto both of her arms. Before she could inquire as to what they were doing, she realized that their eyes were glowing just like everyone else. They’re under her spell, she thought in despair as she struggled under their heavy grasps.

As the cursed New York citizens came closer, Genevieve devised the best plan of action she could. Since her legs weren’t subdued like her arms, she stomped on each of the Ghostbusters’ feet, causing them to instantly release their hold over her. She then dashed in the direction that the cursed people weren’t blocking, running away from the haunted area. They followed after her, some of them running themselves to avoid losing track of her. It intrigued her that, despite being influenced by Maleficent’s power, these people still had some common sense in them.

While running for her life, she thought about something even more bizarre about all of this: the fact that she wasn’t under the spell. At first, she had no good deduction for it; but, as she felt the unbearable pain in her hand, she began to wonder if getting cut from the thorn made her immune to Maleficent’s power. If that would be the case, then it might as well be considered a setback in her plans…or a backup, in case a mortal were to come in contact with them. Whatever the case might’ve been, she was the only being left unaffected by the supernatural outbreak.

For a quick second, she looked back to see how far she was able to distance herself from her pursuers. Ironically, it was only the Ghostbusters that were closing in on her. From her standpoint, they were the healthiest people in the city. Maybe all those years of ghost-busting makes a body good, she thought. Even though this was looking hopeless by the minute, she actually did have a plan formulating in her head, and it involved getting her teammates’ heads back on straight. She only hoped her legs wouldn’t turn to spaghetti before she could reach what was left of the firehouse.