Running with scissors — Brit comes running out of the bedroom with a knife and heads straight for Diana. Brit may have a major problem with magic, but apparently she has no such qualms about assault with a deadly weapon. As long as it’s physical and not metaphysical, she’s OK with it, even if it kills.
Having magic also means having eyes in the back of your head. Diana turns and gives Brit a pepper spray spit take.
All hell breaks loose — Brit is pinned to the wall. The ground shakes. Grace and Bro are on their knees, unable to open the box with all their chanting. Griff covers his head in fear. The door to the room where Michelle is stashed comes crashing in on her.
Diana stands with her arms akimbo and her eyes spinning counterclockwise. Do those kids on Dante’s Cove know how to party or what?
Meanwhile, Elena is dreaming about ice cream, Jodie Foster and a three-legged donkey. Oh, wait. That was me. Never mind.
Michelle comes running out into the living room as Diana continues shrieking complete gibberish. Seeing the knife in Brit’s hand, she pries her immobilized arm off the wall and positions the knife against her own gut.
“I brought the Shadows into this world. I’ll take them with me when I die,” Michelle tells Brit as she plunges the knife into herself. Oh no. She put a hole in her lovely blouse.
Still gripping the bloody knife, Brit sinks to the floor and starts bawling like a baby. Gah, it sucks when your ex makes you stab them. Michelle assures her, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” as the blood runs out of her in rivulets.
Michelle staggers over to Diana and grabs her hands. Over the cacophony of Grace and Bro’s incessant chanting and the thunder cracking outside, Michelle hisses, “Time for us to die,” as she lock eyes with Diana and holds her in a face-to-face death grip.
Slowly, Michelle sinks down.
And falls dead at Diana’s feet.
Finally, the box creaks open. Good God, what took so long? Diana contorts as Shadows’ fumes exit her body in a billowing, dark cloud. The vapors creep toward the box as Bro and Grace hold the lid, waiting to trap it inside.
As the last of the Shadows fly into the box, they slam the lid shut. Thank goodness that’s over. Now, who wants a Hot Pocket?