At first, the shadows themselves seemed to lengthen and shift. Then the shadows seemed just a wee bit more material, until an image began to form. It was like a photograph slowly developing in the various solutions used in a dark room, the transparency becoming translucence until a child that looked as though it had been dead for some time seemed to walk around them. Yet it did not walk - it was too fast for that and its feet never moved; they just hung there, limply dangling but unmoved by the forces that motion invoked. Finally, it stopped. With a close look, Morgan saw that the boy’s toes were just barely touching the blades of grass.<br/><br/>A child…it explained much. Children felt far more deeply the emotions that plagued all of humanity and animal-kind alike, and they were far more innocent than most adults. That innocence was a deep well, and when it was finally emptied, there was hell to pay and then some. Children became poltergeists far more easily than adults did, and even those that merely became ghosts were stronger and more potent than those who perished in adulthood. But Morgan’s eyes, sympathetic though they briefly were, did not soften. She held no illusions: this was not a child any longer and had not been one for quite some time.<br/><br/>“We wait,” she quietly responded.<br/><br/>Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the child’s smirk faded. All that remained was the malice in the poltergeist’s eyes, an undying bitterness born of pain and suffering that no child should have had to bear. The child hesitated but not out of fear. It was curious. It was analyzing the situation. This poltergeist was as intelligent and cautious as it was potent. But it finally crossed the candle barrier. That was all that was needed. Casting her arms out wide, Morgan let the power of her words flow. She didn’t need the power of her name here; the poltergeist wasn’t<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>powerful, no matter<span style="font-style: italic">how</span>cold it was getting. She was actually shivering now but she didn’t let that bother her too much.<br/><br/>“Erif ot lla, seldnac thgila!”<br/><br/>All at once, the candles burst into flame. But Morgan wasn’t done. She lowered her arms and aimed her left palm at the black-lidded jar before her.<br/><br/>“Laesnu,” she said simply, and the poltergeist hesitated.<br/><br/>The stench that erupted was so foul that one might have keeled over were it any stronger. The poltergeist looked confused at first, glancing between the pair that stood before it, but soon it looked almost as though it was dazed. Finally, it was time for the most important part of her casting. She lowered her palms and stared directly at the poltergeist as she spoke her next words.<br/><br/>“Edaf otni tsim dna eb enim,” she said.<br/><br/>At first, the poltergeist just seemed even more confused. Then it started to step forward - its legs moving at last, as though it had somehow lost its power to levitate. It took another step and began to reach toward the pair.<br/><br/>“Dniw,” Morgan declared, raising her left arm before her with the palm down as though it was paper along with wind was blowing.<br/><br/>A gust sprang up all of a sudden, one that emanated from around the pair but did not seem to touch them. The poltergeist stopped. It hadn’t been completely distinct to begin with but now it looked outright blurry around the edges and certain precise features. The barest hint of what looked like fog seemed to be rolling along the ground, and it was getting thicker every few seconds. The poltergeist was getting blurrier. Morgan stepped in front of Johann and took in a sharp breath as the feeling of equally sharp nails seemed to streak down her left cheek. Four lines of blood were drawn as the poltergeist made a slow clawing motion. It turned about suddenly, lowering its arm, as though looking for something; it only succeeded in looking bewildered.<br/><br/>It tried to flee, running along the ground, but had only taken a few steps before it stopped. It had just realized that it couldn’t leave the circle. Morgan and Johann could have, of course, but that would have defeated the purpose of setting out the jars. Morgan glanced at the black liquid; it was depleting fast, although for the thick concoction, that just meant that roughly an eighth of what remained would be gone within the next few moments. Her eyes returned to the poltergeist, who suddenly whirled around. She set her features as she gazed upon the poltergeist’s renewed resolve.<br/><br/>All bitterness and confusion were gone now. Now, there was only rage.