[Outside Dakota]
The road ahead wound through a thick forest that glowed gold in the setting sun. The SUV moved steadily along the cracked asphalt. John was driving. Harley sat in the passenger seat, with her boots on the dashboard. In the back, Maureen looked at the trees, a faint smile on her face.
"So lemme get this straight," Harley said, turning toward John. "You bought a haunted house. With money. Real money?"
John didn't look away from the road. "For the fifth time. It's not haunted. It's abandoned. Big difference."
Maureen chuckled softly. "You really think that's gonna convince her?"
Harley gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "You two don't get it. Every horror movie starts with someone sayin' 'It's not haunted, it's abandoned.' Next thing you know, boom! Bloody walls, possessed cats, Casper's evil twin, creepy dolls starin' at ya in the shower!"
John gave her a look. "Casper's evil twin? That's not a thing."
"Oh, it's totally a thing," Harley said, waving her hands. "You got your friendly ghost, then you got his grumpy brother who never moved on 'cause he lost a poker game in 1820 or somethin'. Probably the guy who built this creepy house we're goin' to."
"Don't worry. We'll play poker with him and let him win; that way, he'll finally get to move on to the other side," John said.
"Ha ha, Mr. Funny Pants," Harley said, leaning closer to him. "You do realize that the previous six owners vanished in that house, right? And not, like, went on vacation vanished. Poof! Gone! Like a bad magic trick!"
"I read the reports," John said. "There's no proof of ghosts. Just bad wiring, old foundations, and some local legends. And if you ask me, they probably went too far into the mountain and got eaten by some mountain lion or wild dogs. Who knows?"
"Or vampires and ghosts," Harley gave him a side glance.
Maureen leaned forward from the back seat. "What about the bloggers?"
Harley looked back and pointed a finger at her. "Exactly! Thank you, Frosty! Five poor souls went in with their little ring lights and ghost detectors, and all they found was death and demon drama!" She shivered a bit. "Oh my god, we're gonna get murdered by ghost people. I'm not ready to be a ghost, John!"
John smirked. "You already act like one. Loud and impossible to ignore."
"Hey!" Harley smacked his shoulder. "That's mean. I'd be a fun ghost. Like, boo! But with style."
Maureen chuckled. "You'd probably redecorate the afterlife."
Harley grinned. "Exactly! Glitter ectoplasm everywhere. Ah! But that's not the point. I don't want any of us to die in some mountain where no one will ever find our bodies. Or what if we get possessed? Like, I ain't ready to die. I want to get married, go on honeymoon, have threesomes with John, then John will create a big harem, after that we'll settle down and have a bunch of kids who will run around, and John will chop wood just out of our farmhouse... shirtless, all sweaty and hot!"
Both John and Maureen coughed almost at the same time.
John gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, eyes fixed on the road. "Uh… remind me again how we went from ghosts to… that?"
Maureen leaned forward, trying not to laugh. "Yeah, Harley, are we still talking about haunted houses or did this just turn into your fantasy diary?"
Harley put a hand over her heart and feigned offense. "What? A girl can dream before her death! I'm just being honest! You can't blame me for wantin' a dramatic life before I turn into a ghost!"
John sighed, half amused, half exasperated. "You skipped about ten steps between 'spooky house' and 'shirtless wood chopping.'"
"Details, details," Harley said, twirling her pigtail. "It's all connected. Death makes you think about life, life makes you think about love, and love makes you think about—"
"Stop," Maureen said quickly, holding up a hand. "Before you say something I can't unhear."
Harley snorted and leaned back in her seat, clearly enjoying herself. "Fine, prudes. But when we're trapped in some demonic attic and the ghost offers us three wishes like a genie before killin' us, don't say I didn't warn ya when I wish for marriage, honeymoon, and the last one, you can have it."
Approx. 1 hour later...
The SUV rumbled over a patch of uneven road. The forest around them began to thicken, sunlight fading as the trees grew taller and the shadows longer. It was already getting dark.
Harley sat up straighter, looking out the window. "Okay… tell me that's not fog."
A low mist rolled between the trees ahead. The temperature inside the car seemed to drop.
Maureen leaned forward, voice quiet. "Looks like fog."
"Looks like ghost breath," Harley corrected. "Oh great, they're already warming up for us."
John kept his tone steady. "It's just weather, Harley."
"Yeah, sure," she muttered, crossing her arms.
As the car turned onto the narrow mountain road, the first glimpse of the mansion came into view through the trees. It was a stone-built mansion with a big chimney. As they got closer, they noticed the ruined garden outside, spider webs on the glass windows, but the door looked new. The agent must have fixed it.
"Ah! Crap! Looks like that shack from Evil Dead, just a little bigger. Pretty sure there's a freakin' evil book inside that house," Harley mumbled to herself.
John parked the SUV in front of the mansion and cut the engine. The forest around them had gone quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"Alright," he said, stepping out. The gravel crunched under his boots. "Let's check it out."
Harley stayed in her seat, arms folded tight. "Yeah, you go on ahead, ghost bait. I'll keep the car warm in case we need to, you know, run."
He turned to her. "You sure you want to be out here… alone? In the middle of the woods? The sun is almost down."
Harley blinked, looked out at the tree line, then at the fog creeping along the ground.
Her eyes widened. "...You jerk."
He straightened up, pretending not to notice her glare. Maureen was already walking toward the front steps with a flashlight. Harley jumped out of the car a second later, hurried to John's side, and grabbed his arm. She switched on her flashlight.
The front door creaked open with a sound that made Harley flinch. But inside, it wasn't what any of them expected. The place was old, yes, but surprisingly well kept. The air didn't smell of rot. The agent had done a good job cleaning up.
The foyer opened into a wide hallway lined with portraits. Some were faded, some half-burnt, all of them watching from the shadows. The wooden floorboards shone faintly under their flashlight beams.
"Well," John said, stepping inside, "at least it's clean."
"Clean's not the same as not cursed," Harley whispered.
Maureen brushed her fingers along a banister polished smooth with age. "It's vintage. Kinda beautiful, actually."
In the living room, there was a big fireplace with a long couch. A massive piano rested near the far wall, its keys yellowed with time.
They checked the rooms one by one. The bedrooms were huge, each with thick velvet curtains and heavy wooden furniture. The bathrooms had clean running water, to Harley's shock.
"Okay, so the ghost at least had good hygiene," she said, turning the faucet on and off.
Mounted on the walls were a few stuffed animal heads: a deer, a wolf, and something that looked like a bear. Harley pointed at them one by one. "Oh, great. Murder décor."
John gave her a sideways look. "You're seeing ghosts in taxidermy now?"
"Yeah, well, one of 'em's definitely lookin' at me funny."
"Well, wait here. Let me start the generator," John said as he went out toward the little barn on the side. He started the generator and walked back inside the house. They switched on the lights.
They looked around for a bit, checking the windows and doors. John carried the supplies from the car and stocked up.
Maureen tested the old TV sitting on a carved cabinet. It flickered to life after a few tries, the screen fuzzy. "Well, at least we've got something."
"Yeah," Harley said, looking at her phone and frowning. "No signal. Figures. Creepy house, middle of nowhere, and we can't even scroll through memes before the ghosts eat us."
"Maybe it's a blessing," John said, settling into an armchair near the fire. "No distractions."
"Speak for yourself," Harley said, plopping down beside him. "I like distractions. Especially the kind that don't involve spectral murder."
Maureen walked to the window, staring at the thickening fog outside. "We'll check the rest of the place tomorrow. For now, let's just stay inside."
...
[Morning]
The fog still lingered in the valley when the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. The old mansion looked less menacing under the morning light. It looked almost peaceful, except for the quiet groan of the old wood as it settled.
Inside, the smell of coffee filled the air. Harley was at the stove in one of John's shirts, humming off-key as she flipped pancakes. Maureen sat at the table with a cup of tea, still wrapped in a blanket. John came down the stairs, buttoning his jacket.
"Morning," he said.
Harley turned, spatula in hand. "We survived the night! Which means I was right not to let Frosty here sleep alone. Safety in numbers, baby."
Maureen smirked. "You just wanted the middle spot."
"Duh!" Harley said with a grin. "It's warm, cozy, and less chance of a ghost grabbing my butt." She looked at John and whispered. "Someone did grab my butt, don't know if it's a ghost or..."
Maureen cleared her throat. 'God! These two.'
John chuckled. "Pretty sure ghosts don't have hands."
"Then what do they grab people with?" she shot back.
He ignored that and walked toward the front door. "Finish breakfast. I want to try something outside after we eat."
Half an hour later, the trio stood in the yard behind the mansion.
John stepped forward, looking serious now. "Alright. I've been working on something new," he said. "I think I can share part of my power with both of you."
Harley's eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait. You mean like Shazam, boom, lightning power? For us?"
John nodded. "Exactly. A smaller portion of it, but enough to enhance your strength, endurance, and abilities. You'll be able to fight beside me on equal ground. Got any questions before we start?"
Harley gasped and jumped in excitement. "Hold up! So I can fly? Like, full-on superhero zoom in the sky?"
"Possibly," John said. "Flight is tied to energy control, so it'll take some focus."
"Can I throw lightning? Like pew-pew—Zap Queen of Gotham!" she said, pretending to shoot bolts from her fingers.
He smiled faintly. "Yes, you'll be able to channel lightning too."
Her eyes gleamed. "Can I fly to the moon?"
"Yes."
"Can I breathe underwater?"
"You don't need to breathe. You can simply survive without oxygen for a certain time."
"How long can I hold my breath?"
"No idea."
She tilted her head. "Can I run fast like Flash?"
John sighed, rubbing his temple. "Harley—"
Maureen crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have said that."
John glanced at her and whispered, "I know. My bad."
Harley folded her arms. "You can't blame me for dreamin' big. I'm about to be like a sparkly thunder goddess! This is serious business!"
John took a step back. The air shifted. "Alright, both of you, hold my hand and stand still."
The girls stood side by side and took John's hands. Maureen looked calm, but he could see the excitement in her eyes. Harley was bouncing on her toes like a kid waiting for fireworks.
John closed his eyes, focused his thoughts, and used his Wisdom to his advantage. He knew that Black Adam could share his power with others without the staff due to his power source. So, it's time to check it out and give the girls a boost.
He simply willed to transfer a portion of his power to Harley and Maureen. Then yelled, "SHAZAM!"
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