A sucker-sucking, Princess-Leia-styled monster is the one in flesh.

She squats over Idun’s torso, and grins around the sucker in her mouth.

“How many licks to get to the center, I wonder?” the sucker-girl asks Idun, pulling the sucker out to show it to Idun.

Idun’s eyes widen in horror, when the skin morphs on the girl, and threads whir through the air. Hyde morphs into the jester girl, who is all kinds of fucking crazy. I’ve witnessed the ghost version of her a few times in the past hours.

“Let’s play a game!” Jester girl shouts, as Little Monster starts playing.

All the apparitions shout in cheerful unison.

“To commemorate the first-annual Monster Olympics, we’ve come up with the perfect game too.” The jester takes a deep breath, before shouting, “Kick ball!”

In the next instant, she grabs Idun by the head and…rips it off.

As though it’s a simple, common task.

I startle, mostly because for a brief moment, I expect Idun’s monster to immediately retaliate.

“You don’t pass out unless your heart is removed and devoured, right?” the jester girl asks a wide-eyed, Idun…

Well, she asks Idun’s severed head, rather.

The jester simply nods when Idun doesn’t respond.

“I guess the ribbon girl story was exaggerated in the versions where it said you chatted up the fellas while your head rolled around on the ground. In real life, your vocal chords have to be intact for speech,” the jester adds with a malicious, twisted grin.

Blood oozes from Idun’s neck, splashing onto the ground, even as the rain cleanses it almost immediately.

“Pick me, coach! I wanna go first!” Anna shouts, as she stands on the makeshift plate.

“What the bloody hell?” Emit asks as he turns up at my side on two naked legs.

I barely notice him, because…I’m still staring at what has to be the day after the apocalypse or some shit.

The jester blurs across the field, as Idun’s head begins to roll across the ground. Before it can reach the base where Anna is standing, threads whir through the air once more, and Anna turns to flesh, as the Jester becomes the projection.

The transition is effortless, and Anna uses Violet’s threading skills with far more ease and precision.

Anna suddenly kicks Idun’s head so hard it comes sailing at me.

A hand darts out, catching the head by the hair, seconds before it collides with my face, while I remain as rigid as a petrified stone.

Vance lowers his hand, Idun’s head in his grip, as tears squeeze free from Idun’s eyes that have been frozen open. Her lips open in a silent plea for help…

Anna is suddenly standing before us, swiping Idun’s head from Vance’s hand.

“Interference! Penalty kick!” she shouts, before turning and punting Idun’s head in the other direction.

We all watch, since there’s not really much else to be done…

This is undoubtedly the most fucked up night I’ve ever been party to. Which is saying a lot. A whole lot.

“I’ve truly never been so speechless,” Arion says, as he joins the three of us.

Anna turns and bats her lashes at him, as Havana starts playing over the speakers.

“Let’s dance,” Anna says suddenly, grabbing Arion’s arm.

His eyes widen in surprise, as she pulls him out onto the middle of the field.

Idly, I notice the apparitions ‘kicking’ Idun’s head to each other, all while laughing.

“One wrong move, and I’ll start all over!” Anna calls out, when Idun’s lower half starts inching toward her torso.

Immediately, the lower half of her body drops to the ground, lifeless once more.

Arion fucking cha-chas with Anna, as though he’s warming up to the idea that there’s an all-powerful sociopath inhabiting Violet’s body.

The fucking lunatic even grins, as his red eyes emerge.

“This isn’t good. Arion seems to be enjoying the monster,” Emit notes with some obvious distress.

Anna’s eyes cut toward the wolf, and her smile chills. Arion turns to grin at the three of us, as his head dips and he presses his forehead to hers.

“It’s her. I can feel Violet,” the fucking stupid vampire says, ever the faithfully blind romantic.

Should have known he’d cave all too easily.

Anna’s arms twine around his neck, as she shoots us a devious smirk.

“They’re plotting against me,” she says with too much certainty and cheer. “But they don’t stand a chance, unless Damien feeds and comes after me full force.”

Vance and Emit both swing a look to me, as though I have the bloody answers to back up that suggestion.

“Isn’t that right, maker?” Anna adds, causing us all to follow her gaze behind us to where Talbot Lane is standing, his eyes hooded, as he stares back at her.

“My maker is plotting against us too,” Anna says. “Violet and me. I’ve been spying tonight.”

“Not Violet and you,” he tells her very seriously, as Idun’s head rolls to be next to Arion.

Arion glances down at it, but immediately returns his very interested attention to Anna.

“The vampire loves me. He loves Violet, that is. All of her, and I’m simply an extension of our girl,” Anna tells him, batting her lashes with innocence. “I knew he’d come around first.”

She turns to punt Idun’s head back toward the huddle of ghosts, who all immediately set back in with their game of kick-the-alpha-head.

“If you want to convince us, give us back Violet right now,” I decide to say, taking a step toward her.

She flashes me a devious grin. “I’m not done playing yet. Stay tuned, Morpheous. Reality is more fun than illusions when I’m in charge. I’m a much more exciting main character. I’ve been telling Violet that since the beginning.”

Her body has long since healed—the earlier stitches having vanished into smooth, flawless skin. I know Violet heals rapidly, but this is beyond unnatural.

She becomes a streak of movement in the next moment. Idun’s head is no longer being kicked around. In fact, I don’t know where it is.

All the remaining apparitions give us a grin, before they spray into the air as salt, effectively vanishing from sight with some dramatic flair.

It takes another moment before I realize…the vampire is gone as well.

“Where the hell did Arion fucking go?” I ask, unable to absorb the madness of the night at a quick enough rate to keep up.

“Also, what’s the deal with all the damn salt?” I ask, because my brain short-circuited much earlier in the night.

This is too much.

Way too much.

I’ve been numb and complacently miserable for far too long to even begin to process something so…jarringly different.

“The salt is the least of our worries,” Talbot grinds out.

“Violet can’t see ghosts, or so you said,” I remind him. “These salt projections of hers are constructed in the ghost plane, because not just everyone can see them.”

“She can’t see ghosts. But she can see astral projections who roam the ghost plane as well,” he’s quick to point out. “Such as Arion Vampyre, who none of you could see as a simple projection. The salt amplifies visibility, using the ghost plane’s reflective properties to construct the image in Violet’s mind and create a form of reality. Hyde tricked her into trusting it by posing as a ghost.”