The idea of using plastic wrap to trap ghosts and chocolate as a supernatural weapon sounded ridiculous, but Darius Kane remembered plenty of paranormal comedies where equally absurd tricks somehow worked.
Normally, he’d treat things like that as nothing more than movie jokes, yet Horror Town had already thrown him into two worlds where cinematic rules were very real.
He still doubted ordinary household supplies would do anything to Ozhin, especially since their supposed effectiveness depended more on fictional logic than established lore.
Even so, Darius had adopted a simple rule since becoming a resident of Horror Town: if something was cheap, harmless, and even remotely useful against the supernatural, bring it.
Regretting an unnecessary purchase was much better than regretting not having it when a demon appeared.
After leaving the store, Darius checked the map again and searched for somewhere selling additional religious and folk-protection items.
There wasn’t a specialized occult district nearby, but he found a neighborhood with several spiritual shops, churches, and old-fashioned religious stores within walking distance of one another.
He took the subway for about ten minutes, walked another few blocks, and eventually found a small shop whose windows were filled with crosses, candles, saint medals, prayer cards, and protective charms.
That was good enough.
Darius stepped inside and spent several minutes examining the shelves.
Alongside the ordinary devotional items were small statues of Saint Michael the Archangel and Saint Benedict, both commonly associated in Christian tradition with protection against evil.
He didn’t know whether either would actually affect Ozhin, but that wasn’t the point.
Darius bought both and added them to the growing collection inside his backpack.
He also stopped at a nearby butcher and obtained a small sealed container of rooster blood after explaining that he needed it for a private folk ritual.
Roosters had appeared as symbols of dawn, vigilance, and spiritual protection in different traditions throughout history, which made it at least marginally more reasonable than carrying random ingredients.
Darius originally considered looking for stranger folk remedies, then decided he had already stretched the definition of preparation far enough.
Crosses, salt, holy objects, rooster blood, plastic wrap, and chocolate were quite a collection already.
One of these damn things has to work.
By the time Darius finished gathering supplies and returned toward the hospital, it was around 6:30 P.M.
Quinn had already finished her shift and was standing beside her car near the entrance.
She wasn’t alone this time.
A teenage girl stood beside her with her arms folded, watching the people passing by with a mildly bored expression.
Darius recognized her immediately.
Jordan Harris.
Quinn’s younger sister looked from Darius to Quinn and then back again, obvious curiosity appearing in her expression.
Darius approached and raised a hand.
“Sorry.
You two waiting long?” “Only a few minutes,” Quinn replied.
“Let’s go.” Jordan said nothing, but the suspicious look she gave Darius made her thoughts fairly obvious.
Who is this guy?
Probably followed immediately by, Is my sister dating him?
Once they were inside the car, Quinn pulled away from the hospital while Darius sat with his backpack close beside him.
After a few minutes, she glanced toward him.
“Did you get everything?” Darius patted the bag.
“Everything I could think of.
What about the supplies I asked you to pick up?” “I got them.” “Good.” Quinn glanced toward Jordan through the rearview mirror.
Earlier, she’d planned to explain the curse once her sister arrived, but Darius had strongly advised against it.
Jordan was young, already stubborn, and had no experience dealing with anything supernatural.
Dumping the full truth on her without preparation might cause panic, disbelief, or exactly the kind of impulsive behavior Ozhin could exploit.
The safest option was to keep Jordan ignorant for as long as possible.
She didn’t need to understand the ritual.
She didn’t need to know that her own countdown would eventually become involved.
When the critical moment came, Darius intended to minimize what Jordan could see and hear, keeping her inside the protected area while Quinn remained the primary target.
If they could hold Ozhin back until Quinn’s timer expired, Jordan’s slightly earlier countdown should also become irrelevant once the curse itself was broken.
At least, that was the theory.
They reached Quinn’s house soon afterward and went inside together.
Darius took one look around and immediately noticed the disadvantage of using a normal suburban home as a defensive position.
There were multiple rooms, windows, hallways, doors, and two levels to monitor.
Against Art the Clown, physical walls and locked entrances had mattered; against Ozhin, who could appear supernaturally and move through ordinary barriers, architecture offered far less protection.
A smaller room would have been easier to control.
Unfortunately, Darius couldn’t think of anywhere dramatically better.
“Let’s start setting everything up now,” Quinn said.
“Yeah.” Darius opened his backpack and pulled out several bags of salt along with a large bottle of glue.
Simply sprinkling loose salt around the house would be unreliable because footsteps, wind, or one careless movement could break the line.
The proven method from the movie had mixed salt with adhesive so the protective boundary couldn’t be disturbed easily.
Darius therefore prepared the mixture while Quinn gathered brushes and other supplies.
Before Quinn could follow him outside, Jordan stopped her.
“Okay, what exactly are you two doing?” Quinn had already prepared an excuse.
“I’m having people over in a couple days.
We’re setting up something for the house.” Jordan stared at the bucket of salt and glue.
“A party.” “Yeah.” “With salt?” “It’s complicated.” Jordan looked toward Darius.
“And who is he?
Your boyfriend?” Quinn almost laughed.
“No.
He’s a friend.” “Sure.” Jordan’s expression made it clear she didn’t believe a word of that.
Bringing some guy home, covering the property in strange markings, and then calling it party preparation wasn’t exactly convincing.
Still, after giving her sister one last skeptical look, Jordan dropped onto the couch, crossed her legs, and pulled out her phone.
Quinn sighed and joined Darius outside.
The relationship between the sisters was already strained enough without adding a supernatural death curse to the conversation.
They loved each other, but an older family tragedy had created years of unresolved tension between them, and neither sister was particularly good at expressing what she actually felt.
Quinn tended to become overly protective, while Jordan responded by pushing back harder.
Even getting her to stay here tonight had required their father’s involvement.
Darius began applying a narrow stripe of glue-and-salt mixture along key exterior thresholds and access points.
Quinn handled the windows and doors while he worked around the rest of the structure, paying particular attention to places where a line could easily be disturbed.
They didn’t need to coat every square inch of the house; the important part was creating continuous supernatural boundaries around the areas they intended to defend.
After finishing the ground level, they carefully handled the remaining vulnerable openings and then moved indoors.
The internal defenses took longer.
Darius reinforced the bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen entrances, and hallways with additional salt lines so that losing one position wouldn’t immediately ruin the entire plan.
Their final fallback point was the living room, where they created a much larger warding design in the center of the floor.
The salt-and-glue barrier formed the actual defensive boundary, while the additional religious symbols were placed within it as backups.
Jordan watched the entire operation from the couch.
Her confusion grew with every minute.
First the salt.
Then crosses.
Then strange symbols.
Now her sister and some mystery guy were moving furniture around as if preparing for a siege.
“What kind of party are you throwing?” Quinn avoided eye contact.
“A weird one.” “No kidding.” Darius pushed the sofa fully inside the protected area before placing the Saint Michael statue and the Saint Benedict item on a nearby table.
He then added the rooster-blood mixture sparingly around a few secondary points that seemed vulnerable, treating it strictly as a speculative folk defense rather than something he trusted.
None of these extras had been proven against Ozhin, but if even one created a moment of hesitation, it could become useful.
He stepped back.
“Almost done.” Then Darius remembered the remaining supplies.
He pulled out the plastic wrap.
“Put this over the windows and a couple of the interior doorways.” Quinn looked at him.
“This is supposed to stop a demon?” “Probably not.” She blinked.
“Then why did we buy it?” “Because I’d rather test stupid ideas before Ozhin arrives than discover afterward that the stupid idea was the one thing that would’ve worked.” Quinn couldn’t really argue with that.
They spent another ten minutes securing the plastic where Darius wanted it.
Once that was finished, he set two boxes of chocolates on the table inside the protected area.
“Eat them if you want, just don’t finish everything before tomorrow.” Jordan finally lowered her phone.
She looked at the chocolate.
Then the religious statues.
Then the salt markings.
Then the plastic-covered windows.
“What.
Kind.
Of.
Party?” Quinn gave her an awkward smile.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jordan stared at her for several seconds before shaking her head and returning to her phone.
At this point, she clearly believed her sister had lost her mind.
Quinn remembered something else and reached for her wallet.
“Wait.
You bought all of this yourself.” Darius shrugged.
“It’s fine.” “No, it isn’t.” She counted the cash she had with her.
Forty-six dollars.
Quinn held it out.
“I don’t know how much everything cost.
Take this, and I’ll send you anything else I owe you.” Darius initially hesitated, then decided there was no reason to make the situation awkward.
They had known each other for barely more than a day, and despite the bizarre circumstances, Quinn wasn’t someone he should expect to cover his expenses indefinitely.
He counted what he’d actually spent out of pocket on the smaller supplies and took thirty-three dollars, returning the rest.
“This covers it.” Quinn nodded.
“Good.” Their arrangement wasn’t friendship yet, much less anything deeper.
For now, they were simply two people preparing to survive the same demon.
Darius looked around the living room one final time.
Salt-and-glue barriers.
Crosses.
Saint Michael.
Saint Benedict.
Rooster blood.
Plastic wrap.
Chocolate.
It was either the strangest supernatural defense ever assembled or an unbelievably bad shopping trip.
Darius folded his arms.
“One of them has to work.” (End of Chapter) Enjoyed the chapter?
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