SPIDER-CHICA!

After four days of grueling training and relentless spell practice, the trio found themselves on the precipice of their most daunting challenge yet. Gathered in the dimly lit basement, Ben and Jamie watched with bated breath as Raphaela began the intricate process of creating their gateway to Japan.

Golden threads of light spun from Raphaela's index finger, weaving an intricate pentagram on the weathered stone wall. The shimmering strands pulsed with an otherworldly energy, casting dancing shadows across their faces. Stepping back, Raphaela closed her eyes, clasping her hands tightly against her chest. Her lips moved in a barely audible whisper, "Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kyoto, Japan," the words carried the weight of a solemn prayer.

Ben's voice cut through the tension, low and urgent. "Remember, we can't risk materializing in a crowd. Aim for behind the guard house, just like we practiced."

Jamie shot him a look, her voice barely above a whisper. "She knows, Ben. Let her concentrate." Turning to Raphaela, she raised a supportive fist. "You've got this, Rafie."

A small smile tugged at Raphaela's lips, drawing strength from her friend's encouragement. With renewed focus, she channeled her energy into completing the spell. The air crackled with arcane power as the interior of the pentagram shimmered and transformed.

Before them materialized a breathtaking vista: the iconic vermilion torii gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine stood proud against a canvas of burnt orange and soft lavender hues. The setting sun cast long shadows across the stone pathways, and in the distance, the silhouette of Kyoto's skyline melted into the twilight.

"Go! Go!" Raphaela urged, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining the portal.

Ben took point, cautiously poking his head through the shimmering gateway. The scent of incense and cedar wafted through, mingling with the crisp evening air. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he leapt through, extending a hand back to assist Jamie. Raphaela followed suit, the portal snapping shut behind her with an audible pop.

"Phew," Raphaela gasped, leaning against a nearby torii gate for support. "That takes quite a lot out of you." The smooth, lacquered wood felt cool against her palm, grounding her in this new reality.

Ben's voice softened with a mix of pride and concern. "Don't worry. With more practice, it'll become as easy as breathing." He produced a meticulously folded map of the shrine complex, the paper crinkling softly as he spread it out.

Jamie's eyes were wide with wonder, drinking in their surroundings. The fading sunlight painted the torii gates in rich, deep reds, their arching forms creating a tunnel-like path that seemed to stretch endlessly up the forested mountainside. "You're incredible, Raphaela," she breathed. "Can you believe we're actually in Japan? My parents would absolutely lose it if they knew."

Unable to resist the allure of exploration, Jamie began to wander, Raphaela trailing close behind. The gravel crunched softly under their feet, and the sweet chirping of evening birds filled the air.

"Hey! Hey!" Ben's sharp whisper cut through their reverie. "Where do you two think you're going?"

Raphaela turned, a sheepish grin on her face. "We're just going to take a quick look around."

Ben's expression hardened, his earlier pride replaced by stern determination. "Have you forgotten why we're here? This isn't a vacation or a sightseeing trip. We have a mission to complete – one that involves theft and potentially... worse." His voice dropped even lower. "And let's not forget, you're essentially illegal immigrants. If you get caught, I'll have no choice but to leave. I highly doubt you'll be able to perform that spell from inside a Japanese prison."

The gravity of their situation settled over them like a heavy cloak. Jamie and Raphaela exchanged chastened looks before hurrying back to Ben's side.

"Wow," Jamie murmured, "who knew Ben could be so serious and logical?"

Raphaela nodded, a newfound respect in her eyes. "I know, right? It's almost scary."

With renewed focus, the trio set off deeper into the shrine complex, their footsteps quiet but purposeful on the ancient stone path. As they passed through the imposing two-storied Rōmon gate, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on them with an almost tangible weight. Each breath became a struggle, and even standing upright required conscious effort.

Fear crept into Jasmine and Raphaela's hearts, their earlier excitement evaporating like morning dew. A single, overwhelming thought echoed in both their minds: 'I want to go home.' An inexplicable sense of foreboding settled over them, a premonition of impending danger that they couldn't shake.

Ben, seemingly unaffected, calmly sipped from a juice box. His voice cut through their rising panic, steady and reassuring. "Calm yourselves, girls. She's just letting us know that she's aware of our presence."

Before either could respond, a soft voice spoke from behind them. "Right this way."

The unexpected sound shattered the tense silence, causing Raphaela and Jasmine to let out startled screams. Even Ben, caught off guard, choked on his drink. They whirled around to find a young shrine maiden standing behind them, her red and white attire a stark contrast to the deepening twilight.

The maiden bowed apologetically, her voice gentle and melodic. "Forgive me, I had no intention of startling you. My master sent me to fetch you. She is very excited to meet you all." With a graceful gesture, she added, "If you would please follow me."

Ben, still coughing slightly and wiping juice from his nose, managed a polite response. "Of course, it would be our pleasure."

As they followed the maiden through the legendary Senbon Torii – the pathway of a thousand gates – the oppressive atmosphere gradually lifted. The shrine maiden, her steps light and sure on the well-worn path, began to weave tales of the shrine's history and legends.

She pointed out historical landmarks and hidden symbols, her storytelling so vivid that Jasmine and Raphaela found themselves transported through time. They could almost see the ancient worshippers and feudal lords who had walked these same paths centuries ago.

Ben, meanwhile, enthusiastically peppered their guide with questions about Japanese culture and cuisine. His earlier composure gave way to an almost childlike excitement as he expounded on his love for all things Japanese, peppering his commentary with not-so-subtle reminders of his own expertise and worldliness.

As they climbed higher up the mountain, the torii gates seemed to press closer together, creating a tunnel of vermilion and shadow. The lantern light flickered off the polished gates, creating an otherworldly ambiance. In the distance, the lights of Kyoto began to twinkle like earthbound stars, a reminder of the modern world beyond this ancient sanctuary.

Despite the beauty surrounding them and the maiden's captivating tales, a current of tension still ran beneath the surface. Raphaela and Jasmine exchanged uneasy glances, the earlier sense of foreboding not entirely forgotten. Ben's enthusiasm, too, seemed slightly forced, as if he were trying to mask his own apprehension.

By the time Ben had finished regaling their group with what seemed like his entire life story—a tale he insisted would be "remembered throughout the ages"—they had reached the summit of Mount Inari. The sprawling cityscape of Kyoto stretched out before them, a glittering tapestry of lights against the velvet night sky. But it was not the view that commanded their attention.

There, perched on a weathered stone bench overlooking the city, sat a figure of such otherworldly beauty and power that the very air around her seemed to shimmer. This was Tamamo-no-Mae, one of the most legendary and enigmatic figures in Japanese mythology.

Her presence was at once alluring and terrifying, a perfect embodiment of the duality that made her legend so enduring. Her kimono, a masterpiece of crimson silk embroidered with intricate gold patterns, draped loosely around her form, seeming to flow like liquid fire in the gentle breeze. The fabric rippled with subtle movements, revealing glimpses of skin so pale and luminous it appeared to glow from within.

Tamamo-no-Mae's face was a study in perfection—features so exquisite they seemed to defy the laws of nature. Her skin, smooth as polished jade, contrasted sharply with cascading locks of hair as dark and glossy as a raven's wing. But it was her eyes that truly captivated; amber irises that glowed with an inner light, hints of gold and orange swirling within their depths like molten metal. Those eyes held the wisdom of millennia, the cunning of a master strategist, and the untamed wildness of a force of nature.

Despite the traditional setting, Tamamo-no-Mae's posture and accouterments spoke of a being who transcended time and culture. In one graceful hand, she held an elegantly crafted electronic vape, wisps of fragrant vapor curling around her like ethereal spirits. With her other hand, she periodically raised a delicate cup of sake to her lips, the movement so fluid it appeared almost choreographed.

Perhaps most striking of all was the manga floating before her, its pages turning of their own accord. The juxtaposition of this modern entertainment against her timeless appearance only served to emphasize her transcendent nature—a being as comfortable in the age of technology as she had been in the courts of ancient emperors.

As the group approached, Tamamo-no-Mae's gaze shifted from the manga to them. The weight of her attention was palpable, like the pressure before a storm. When she spoke, her voice was melodious yet edged with power, each word resonating with centuries of accumulated knowledge and guile.

"Welcome, young ones," she intoned, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I've been expecting you."

The group stood transfixed, caught between awe and terror. They had prepared for this moment, trained relentlessly, yet nothing could have truly readied them for the reality of standing before one of Japan's most powerful and capricious legendary figures.

Tamamo-no-Mae's eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly aware of the effect she had on them. With a graceful gesture, she beckoned them closer. "Come," she said, her voice a silken purr. "We have much to…"

efore Tamamo no Mae could finish her introduction, Raphaela bounded forward, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement.

"I know we're here to steal from you and, well, kill you," she blurted out, words tumbling over each other, "but I just have to say—I'm a massive fan of anime and manga featuring kitsune, and you're like, the ultimate legend, and—"

Jasmine yanked her back with a hiss. "Shut it, Raph!"

Tamamo no Mae's golden eyes flickered with amusement. "How... unexpected. While it's considered the height of rudeness to interrupt one's host mid-introduction, I find myself inclined to forgive you." A sly smile played across her lips. "As a fellow anime connoisseur, I'll chalk it up to youthful exuberance and fandom fervor."

"Say thank you," Jasmine muttered, jabbing an elbow into Raphaela's ribs.

"Ow! I mean—thank you," Raphaela stammered, bowing her head awkwardly.

Ben stepped forward, his patience wearing thin. "Enough pleasantries. We're here for the Goetia, the flask, and your life, Tamamo no Mae."

The kitsune's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint replacing her earlier mirth. "My, my. Hastur, the King in Yellow, still puppeteering young boys' bodies, I see." She covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh dear, did I let that slip?"

The atmosphere in the room shifted, growing heavy with tension. A yellow triskelion materialized on Ben's forehead, pulsing with eldritch energy. His eyes blazed molten gold, and in his lengthening shadow, massive tentacles writhed and curled. When he spoke, his voice was as cold and deep as the abyssal depths.

"I never cared for anyone's opinion of me, Tamamo no Mae."

The kitsune tittered, her tails swishing behind her. "Oops, seems I've stepped on the cat's tail—or should I say, tentacle?" Her playful tone belied the sharp intelligence in her gaze. "If you truly didn't care, Hastur, why the desperate deal to inhabit a human form? This girl," she gestured to Raphaela, "might never have crossed paths with Medea. She could have led a perfectly ordinary life. And that other one—" Her eyes flickered to Jasmine. "Well, some curses are remarkably persistent, aren't they?"

 "Wow, life just keeps dumping on me," Jasmine muttered, her voice thick with frustration. She yanked off her wristwatch and hurled it to the floor with a resounding crack.

Raphaela's eyes widened in horror. "What are you doing?! That's your great-great-grandmother's watch!"

Reality crashed back into Jasmine. "Oh crap, I know!" she cried, snatching up the broken timepiece. Tears welled in her eyes as she cradled the family heirloom. "Why did I do that?"

Tamamo no Mae's nose wrinkled, her tails bristling at the sight of Jasmine's tears. "No... NO! None of that here," she commanded, her voice sharp. "You're a big girl, and big girls don't cry." Her golden eyes softened a fraction. "Akira, bring me that watch. I'll fix it."

The young maiden, Akira, stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "Don't worry," she said softly to Jasmine. "My master is a wizard with these things."

Hesitantly, Jasmine placed the broken watch in Akira's palm. The servant swiftly delivered it to Tamamo no Mae, who closed her fingers around it. The kitsune's eyes glowed faintly as she blew gently into her cupped hands. When she opened them, the watch gleamed, restored to its former glory.

"Thank you, Miss," Jasmine murmured as Akira returned the watch.

Tamamo no Mae waved dismissively before fixing her piercing gaze on Ben. "Hastur, are you really going to try killing me with these two lamb chops?" Her voice dripped with condescension. "Oh, Takoyaki-face, how far the mighty have fallen."

Hastur's presence seemed to darken, the air around him rippling. "Yes, I will," he boomed, tentacles writhing in his shadow. "And don't underestimate them. They're tougher than they appear."

A mischievous smirk tugged at Tamamo no Mae's lips. "Of that, I have no doubt. But it would be dreadfully dull to fight for my life and win without gaining anything. How about a little wager?"

Hastur's eyes narrowed. "What kind of deal?"

Tamamo no Mae's tails swished as she explained, "If I lose, you get the Goetia and the flask. I'll even reveal the ring's location. But if you lose..." Her eyes glittered. "You'll owe me a favor. In return, I'll still give you the Goetia. A win-win, wouldn't you say?" She punctuated her offer by downing a shot of sake.

"Let me confer with my team," Hastur growled.

"By all means. Take your time." Tamamo no Mae's smile was all teeth.

The trio huddled, voices low as they debated.

"Well?" Ben asked. "Should we take it?"

Raphaela nodded eagerly. "We've trained so hard. I don't think we can lose! Jasmine?"

Jasmine bit her lip. "It does seem win-win. Even if we somehow lose, it'll probably just be an easy job. She doesn't seem unreasonable."

"So it's a go?" Ben looked at them both. They nodded in unison.

"Let's do this!" Jasmine thrust her hand forward. The others joined, forming a circle. "On three! One... two... three... Witch Hunters' Trio!"

They turned to face Tamamo no Mae, who arched an eyebrow.

"We have a deal," Ben declared.

The kitsune's lips quirked. "Excellent. Though I must say, you might want to workshop that team name. It's not quite... catchy."

Jasmine bared her fangs, adrenaline surging. "We'll rebrand later. It's time to—"

"Not here," Tamamo no Mae interrupted, her voice silk over steel. "This is my home, and I'm rather fond of the view." She took a deep pull from an ornate vape, exhaling a cloud of shimmering smoke. "I have the perfect venue in mind. One might even call it a home-field advantage for you."

The sweet scent of mango filled the air as the smoke enveloped them. Jasmine's nostrils flared. "Mmm, mango blush. Nice choice."

As the smoke thickened, obscuring their vision, tension crackled in the air. The battle was about to begin, but on whose terms? The mango-scented mist swirled, promising to transport them to an unknown battlefield where ancient powers and modern determination would collide.

Once the smoke cleared, the gang found themselves at their old training ground, encircled by the untouched beauty of nature—the meadow spread out like a lush, green carpet; towering mountains loomed in the distance, their jagged peaks piercing the sky, and the ocean shimmered under the setting sun, a vast expanse of restless energy. But there was no comfort in the familiar sights. The air was thick with tension.

"How could she have possibly known about this place?" Raphaela asked, her voice barely concealing the fear and disbelief.

"I'm glad you asked," Tamamono replied lazily, reclining on an emerald-green couch with golden legs that seemed to appear from nowhere, as though plucked from a dream. She didn't even look up from her manga, casually inhaling from her vape, sending tendrils of mist swirling into the air. "I can read minds, you know. Only for the last two days, though. The moment you rudely interrupted me, I peered into your eyes, ready to make your brain explode with a thought. But instead... I found this little nugget of information." She chuckled, her eyes narrowing. "I tried with your friends too, but their mental fortitude is quite... formidable. Yours, however—"

Raphaela's blood boiled. It wasn't the violation of her privacy that stung the most—it was the insult, the insinuation that she was the weakest of the group. Rage took over, and in a flash, her body began to morph. Her semi-spider form emerged, black chitinous legs extending, her skin growing tough, her eyes sharp. She fired a sizzling ball of acidic venom straight at Tamamono, aiming for the kill.

With a lazy wave of her hand, Tamamono summoned a decaying samurai from the ground, its hollow eyes lifeless as it leapt in front of her. The venom splattered against its chest, melting through armor and flesh, but it didn't matter. The creature collapsed into a pile of ash.

"You dare spit at me?" Tamamono growled, her voice losing its playful tone, replaced with an icy menace. "This is why I despise your kind. Now... watch as I squash you like the worthless insect you are."

With a snap of her fingers, the ground beneath Raphaela trembled. Enormous wooden hands erupted from the earth, fingers the size of tree trunks reaching to crush her. Raphaela leaped back just in time, narrowly avoiding the trap, but the hands weren't done. They shifted, forming a triangle, and within seconds, a blazing fire phoenix launched from the center, roaring through the air. It exploded upon contact with the ground, sending dirt and debris flying. Raphaela stumbled back, her pants catching fire from the blast.

"Oh dear, your pants are on fire," Tamamono mocked, a sadistic smile creeping across her face. "Let me help with that."

Before Raphaela could react, a colossal water dragon materialized from the clouds above, crashing down onto her with the force of a tidal wave. The pressure pinned her to the earth, freezing over her form until she was encased in ice.

"Raphaela!" Jasmine cried out, her voice trembling.

"Worry not," Tamamono said, turning her gaze towards Jasmine, "she's not dead. I still need her for the task I assigned."

But Jasmine was already too late. Ben, the quietest and most mysterious of the group, made his move. He raised his hand, lightning crackling at his fingertips, but this wasn't ordinary lightning. It was sickly yellow, the color of madness. It twisted unnaturally in the air, like tendrils of a living nightmare. Ben's eyes had darkened, shadows of the unknowable flickering in his gaze—the mark of Hastur, the King in Yellow, was upon him. He was more than human now, his very presence twisting reality around him.

Tamamono smirked as if she had been expecting it. A massive wall of earth shot up between them, just as Ben unleashed his attack. From the wall, a monstrous fox's head emerged, its mouth yawning open to snap at him. It missed, but as its jaws closed with a thunderous crash, it disintegrated into hundreds of glowing fireflies that swarmed Ben like a plague. They latched onto him, their bodies pulsing with an eerie yellow glow before they detonated. The force sent Ben hurtling through the air, crashing into the ground, his body smoking.

As Jasmine watched her fallen comrades, her anger boiled over. She growled, her body starting to change.

"Oh, are you upset?" Tamamono sneered, pretending to yawn. "I'm allergic to dogs, but no worries—I have something more suitable for you." She spat a small fireball in front of Jasmine, the flames twisting and growing, reaching upwards until a towering bipedal cat stepped out, standing at nearly seven feet tall. Its fur blazed with unnatural fire, claws crackling with molten energy.

"I give you Kasha! Aka 'fire cart,'" Tamamono announced, barely concealing her glee. "Don't ask me why, I don't care. But isn't it just delightful?"

"It looks like a Pokémon," Jasmine muttered, her eyes narrowing.

"I know, right?!" Tamamono said, clapping her hands in excitement. "Now, Kasha—burn her to ash with Fire Claw."

Jasmine growled, her voice deepening as her body began to change. Her snout elongated, her fangs sharpened, and her entire frame rippled with muscle, growing larger by the second. She towered over Kasha now, her fur bristling, every inch of her radiating raw power. She dodged Kasha's flaming claws, grabbed its arm mid-swing, and crushed it with a sickening snap. In one smooth motion, she lifted the beast and slammed it into the ground with a thundering crash, pouncing on it immediately.

With one vicious bite, she tore its throat out, blood gushing from the wound as she ripped its eyes from its skull and devoured them with primal fury, her muzzle soaked in crimson.

"Typical Bultungin," Tamamono mused, unfazed by the brutal display. "But let me share a secret with you about your kind."

Jasmine, her chest heaving and blood still dripping from her jaws, paused, her ears perking up as she took a step closer, curiosity outweighing her rage.

"Whatever creature's blood a Bultungin drinks, it can possess that creature's abilities," Tamamono said, her voice dripping with casual menace, as if revealing such a terrifying truth was a mere afterthought.

A sharp buzz suddenly broke the tension. Tamamono glanced down at her phone, annoyance flashing across her face for the briefest of moments before she picked it up. "Oh my, would you look at that," she said with a sigh of disinterest, "it's almost time for the new episode of my favorite anime. Guess this little game's over, then. I'll take it as a win. Two to one, right?" She clapped her hands together, and just like that, the air around them shifted.

In the blink of an eye, everything was restored to normal. The ice that had encased Raphaela vanished, leaving her dry and unharmed, as though the water dragon had never crushed her. Ben's charred body no longer bore the burns or cuts from the explosion. He was whole again, though still unconscious.

"Thank you," Jasmine muttered, the words slipping from her lips before she realized what she was saying.

"No problem," Tamamono said, waving her hand dismissively, her tone mocking and aloof. "I take it you can get home on your own, right?" She glanced at the old attic door as if it were beneath her attention, her eyes already drifting back to her phone.

Jasmine nodded, still shaken from the chaos of the fight, but unwilling to show it.

"Good girl," Tamamono purred, her voice condescending. She looked Jasmine up and down, as if she were a mere pet who had performed a trick correctly. "Remember, I'll be back," she said with a wink, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Bye for now."

Without another word, without so much as a flicker of effort, Tamamono vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but the faint scent of her vape lingering in the air.

Jasmine exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and turned to her comrades. Raphaela and Ben were still out cold, their bodies motionless despite the restoration of their physical wounds. She crouched beside them, shaking them gently at first, then with increasing desperation.

"Come on, wake up..." she murmured, but neither stirred.

With a frustrated groan, Jasmine heaved them both onto her shoulders. They were limp, dead weight in her arms, and as she dragged them toward the attic door, she cursed under her breath. "Of all the times to just... ugh."

Once at the stairs, she tried another approach. With more than a little annoyance, she tossed their bodies down, hoping the impact might rattle them awake. But still—nothing. Ben and Raphaela remained as lifeless as ever, their eyes closed, their breathing steady but shallow.

She stood at the top of the staircase, hands on her hips, staring down at the two with a look of exasperation. "Seriously?" she muttered, kicking the floor in frustration. "I guess we're all crashing at Raphaela's tonight."

With a resigned sigh, Jasmine made her way down the stairs, glancing back one last time before closing the attic door behind her. The night air outside felt cool against her skin, but despite the calm, she couldn't shake the weight of Tamamono's words—or her promise.