Floating out of the house, Ghostfreak surveyed the neighborhood and muttered to herself, “There’s got to be something fun to do around here.”
Her eyes locked onto an unattended golf cart parked by the curb.
A wide grin spread across her ghostly face as she drifted toward the driver’s seat.
“Jackpot!”
A few moments later, several elderly residents on the sidewalk stopped in their tracks, staring in deep, perplexed silence at a golf cart driving itself down the road.
As she cruised along, a mouth-watering aroma caught her attention.
Following her nose, she floated up to a windowsill where a freshly baked apple pie was cooling.
She was just about to snag a bite when she noticed an old woman inside the house holding a flyswatter, hunting a fly.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been a perfectly ordinary sight but the next second, the bizarre and unnatural occurred.
With a sudden, powerful spring, the old woman launched herself straight onto the ceiling, unhinged her jaw, and snapped the fly out of the air, swallowing it whole.
Ghostfreak’s singular eye widened in utter disbelief.
“No way…
Ninja Granny?”
Suddenly, the rumble of an engine drew her attention back to the street.
She looked over to see an old man driving a sedan down the lane.
What happened next was equally surreal.
The moment the driver spotted a small puddle on the asphalt, his eyes widened as if he had just seen a deadly virus.
He swerved violently to avoid it, casting a terrified, lingering glance back at the water.
Realizing something was seriously wrong with this town, Ben hit the gas and shadowed the sedan.
A moment later, right before her eyes, the old man climbed out of his car, suddenly shot up two meters in height, and effortlessly leaped over a high security fence while clutching a rolled-up rug.
“This creepy place is getting weirder by the minute,” Ben muttered.
Thanks to her Ghostfreak form, she simply phased right through the iron bars of the fence.
She cleared the obstacle just in time to see the old man yanking open the doors to an underground storm cellar.
But right as she closed in, the mechanical variance kicked in.
The Omnitrix gave a loud beep, and a flash of red light reverted her back to human form.
Hearing the sudden beep of the watch, the old man’s head snapped around, twisting a horrifying 180 degrees to glare directly at her.
Discovering an intruder, his entire body contorted with a sickening crack as it twisted 180 degrees to match his head.
Letting out a savage, guttural hiss, he lunged straight at her.
The possessed senior managed to grab her, but Ben thrashed violently, tearing herself from his grip.
She scrambled back over the fence as fast as her legs could carry her and dove into the golf cart.
She slammed her foot onto the pedal, yanking the steering wheel around.
The old man pursued her with terrifying speed, refusing to let up.
Looking at the monstrous figure in her rearview mirror, Ben yelled, “I didn’t see your face pop out of the back of your head!
I swear!”
(Are these old people on some kind of super-powered vitamins?!)
Despite the cart’s top speed, the creature suddenly extended his arms, stretching his limbs a full five meters through the air.
His elongated hands latched onto the back of the cart, and with a powerful heave, he pulled himself onto the roof.
The sudden weight and violent shaking caused Ben to lose control.
The golf cart veered off the road and flipped violently into a ditch.
Fortunately, Ben managed to throw herself clear and escaped unhurt.
Unsurprisingly, the creepy old man was entirely unfazed by the crash.
His elongated arms shot forward again, pinning Ben to the ground.
She frantically spun the dial of her watch, but it was still flashing a recharging red, refusing to trigger.
At that exact, critical second, a heavy walking cane flew through the air, striking and shattering the nozzle of a nearby fire hydrant.
The pressurized water erupted skyward, turning into a massive, artificial fountain.
The moment the spray hit the creature, he let out a pained, agonizing screech, instantly releasing Ben and fleeing into the shadows.
“Okay…
what is even going on…?” Ben groaned, sitting up.
“Ben!
Are you alright?!” Blake shouted, sprinting into the clearing.
Seeing a familiar face, Ben let out a breath, rubbing her aching head.
“I’m fine.”
“Come on, let’s get you up.” Blake reached out, wrapping his hand firmly around her wrist.
With a strong, fluid pull, he hoisted her up from the grass.
Perhaps she was still dazed from the golf cart crash, or perhaps her legs were just weak from the adrenaline, but Ben stumbled the moment she reached her feet.
Losing her balance, the momentum carried her straight forward.
Since Blake was standing right in front of her, she fell squarely into his chest.
The instant she plunged into his arms, she was enveloped by his warmth.
A fierce, sudden crimson flush consumed her face, and for a fleeting second, her mind went completely blank.
Snapping back to her senses, she panicked, shoving herself out of his embrace.
She spun around, turning her back to him to hide her burning face as she stammered, “I-I-I…
I didn’t mean to do that!
I swear!”
Blake, entirely oblivious, simply scratched his head.
“It’s fine.
Let’s get moving, your grandpa is waiting for us.”
He turned and began walking back toward the house, but as he did, he muttered to himself in a thoroughly puzzled whisper, (That’s weird…
why did she feel so soft when I caught her?)
A rare, faint trace of pink dusted Blake’s own cheeks as the thought crossed his mind.
The two walked in a silent, awkward line.
Under the glowing orange hues of the sunset, Ben’s flushed face was incredibly obvious.
As they walked, she couldn’t stop herself from stealing covert glances at him over her shoulder.
She tried desperately to calm her racing heart, but the more she looked at him, the hotter her face became.
In a desperate bid to snap out of it, she slapped her cheeks with both hands, lecturing herself internally: *(Ben Tennyson, pull yourself together!)*
Walking a few paces behind her, Blake kept his eyes on her small silhouette.
Illuminated by the fading sunlight, her frame looked remarkably delicate.
Yet, staring at her back, Blake found himself appreciating more than just her physical appearance; he saw the profound resilience and courage that defined her character.
He knew that even without his interference, she was destined to become a great hero who would save the world.
Even so, a quiet, fierce determination sparked within him to protect her and stand by her side through whatever the future held.
(Keep it up, hero,) Blake smiled to himself.
A short while later, they returned to Aunt Vera’s house.
The moment they crossed the threshold, Ben frantically explained the afternoon’s bizarre encounters to Grandpa Max and Gwen.
Wrapping up her story, she eagerly proposed, “So, I think I should change into Four Arms right now and go check out that Horseshoe guy’s place!”
Grandpa Max stroked his chin, considering the wild tale.
“Maybe we should go take a look.” He turned a stern gaze to his granddaughter.
“But we are doing this without using the watch.”
Ben’s shoulders slumped in disappointment as her grandfather walked toward the door.
Noticing her deflation, Blake walked past and gave her shoulder a comforting pat.
“Come on, Ben.
If you show up as an alien and nobody’s home, your surprise attack is completely wasted anyway.”
Gwen, always skeptical of supernatural claims, couldn’t help but sigh.
“Honestly, Ben.
Ever since you got that watch, it’s like every freak show in the universe is drawn straight to us.”
Ben didn’t take the comment to heart.
She leaned close to her cousin, twisting her face into a monstrous grin.
“Does that include…
you?”
The group set off for Mr.
Horseshoe’s house, the residence of the creepy old man who had chased Ben earlier.
Grandpa Max knocked politely on the front door, and receiving no answer, he carefully turned the knob and led them inside.
They searched the entire house, but the building was completely deserted.
The only unusual detail was discovered by Ben: the spot where the large rug had been resting that morning was now completely bare.
Finding no sign of the owner and nothing else out of place, they had no choice but to head back to Aunt Vera’s to get some rest for the night.
Later that evening, while Aunt Vera was resting in her bedroom, she suddenly felt a bizarre, slimy mass crawling up her blankets, heading straight for her head.
Before she could cry out for help, a grotesque creature clamped a hand over her mouth, completely stifling her screams as the bedroom fell dark.
The next morning, Blake was out in the garden, lying back to enjoy the warm morning sun.
Inside, a starving Ben threw open the refrigerator doors to scavenge for breakfast.
“Prune juice, prune juice, and…
wow, look at that, more prune juice,” she groaned.
“What a thrilling surprise.” She slammed the door shut.
“Why do old people have to be such walking stereotypes?”
Right as she finished complaining, Aunt Vera stepped out of her bedroom.
Seeing her up, Gwen offered a cheerful smile.
“Good morning, Aunt Vera!
Did you sleep well?”
Instead of her usual warm reply, Aunt Vera stood completely rigid.
When she spoke, her voice was robotic and hesitant, as if she were a toddler just learning to piece syllables together.
“I…
am…
fine.
And…
you…?”
Before the girls could process her strange behavior, Gwen tried to set a pot of freshly brewed coffee and hot water onto the counter.
Her grip slipped, and the ceramic shattered across the linoleum, spilling boiling liquid everywhere.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Gwen cried, instantly dropping to her knees.
The moment the water began pooling toward Aunt Vera’s slippers, a horrifying reflex took over.
Aunt Vera’s legs suddenly elongated, stretching to an impossible length as she hoisted her torso into the air, hooking her feet onto the edge of the dining table to escape the liquid.
She glared down at Gwen, her voice sharp with panic.
“Clean it up!
Clean it up right now!”
Ben and Gwen exchanged a terrified, wide-eyed look.
“Sorry,” Gwen whispered, quickly using a towel to scrub the floor dry.
The moment the water vanished, Aunt Vera’s legs snapped back to their normal size, and she dropped effortlessly to the floor.
She looked around coldly.
“Where is your grandfather?”
“He said he was going out for an early morning walk,” Gwen replied nervously.
“Fine.
I am going out for a moment.
Do not misbehave,” Aunt Vera commanded, turning on her heel and walking out the front door.
It was glaringly obvious, Aunt Vera had been completely possessed by the alien parasites.