It's Been Marceline All Along Part 3

“You…damned….dirty…bastard,” Marceline muttered under her breath.

The jewel cracked and glowed as the spirit it held inside broke free. Transparent white mist appeared and swirled around the shop like a tornado. Vases were knocked over, and papers took flight in the madness. Marceline’s long, raven black hair danced in the wind as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
And then she saw the windows cracking.
“FINN GET DOWN!!!” She cried, and tackled Finn to the ground and put her arms around his head to protect him.
The window was now completely shattered, and shards of glass were caught in the misty cyclone. One shard made contact with Marceline’s arm, leaving a thin, red mark on it. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes.
When everything went quiet, she opened her eyes.
Papers and broken pottery were lying all over the floor, along with window shards in various shapes. Paintings were ripped from their frames, and Marceline even caught a glimpse of a porcelain doll with one of its cheeks completely shattered, and cracks on its fore head.
And then she saw the spirit.
The spirit actually looked a lot younger than Marceline had predicted. She looked no older than twenty-one. God, did she know what she was doing when she got married?! Marceline thought. The spirit had a wild look in her eyes that Marceline didn’t like. And when she looked at her attire, it looked like the spirit was wearing a strait jacket with the sleeves ripped off. Great, so not only is she murderous, but she’s also insane. These two are freakin’ perfect for each other.
Finn stood up, his blazing sky blue eyes glaring at the spirit. He reached for his demon sword.
The old man’s fleshy face creased into a smile.
“Finn!” Marceline yelled as she headed toward the old man, “Take care of the spirit, I’ll make sure grandpa doesn’t get in your way!”
Finn nodded and unsheathed his sword.
Marceline picked up speed, and then pirouetted. Her foot came in contact with the old man’s face. It was a good hard kick; the man falling from the impact.
“You’re not what you seem,” the elder man smiled, “But then again neither am I.”
As Marceline tried to process that last sentence, the old man grabbed something and aimed for her heart. Marceline dodged it just in time, but then she felt a searing pain in her leg. She looked down at it.
A wooden stake was lodged in her flesh.
If she had given him another second, he would have killed her.
“Marceline!” Finn cried, just as he was being forced into a wall by the spirit.
She took the stake out of her leg and tossed it elsewhere. But the old man had more where that came from.
He was arming himself with a crossbow, and was starting to put a wooden arrow in it.
Marceline decided that she was even going to give him time to pull the arrow back. She knocked the weapon out of his hand and took it for herself.
“These wooden things are nasty,” She casually told him, “They could kill someone.” She reloaded the crossbow and aimed thoughtfully at the old man.
Until she saw Finn.
He was still fighting the spirit, or at least trying to. It’s obvious when she tossed him into the wall, he started bleeding from his mouth. Bruises were already forming on his body, and Marceline could smell all the little cuts on him.
The spirit was still standing high and mighty.
“Not one of you…” she stated, “…will leave here alive.”
Oh, no, Marceline’s expression froze over, She’s really gonna do it, she’s gonna kill Finn unless I do something…!
Then Marceline noticed a large fireplace behind the spirit, she looked at the window. And then looked back at the fireplace again.
She knew what she was going to do.
Marceline broke the crossbow in two before she transformed into a bat and flew out the window.
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No way…she didn’t just…! Finn couldn’t believe what he just saw. Marceline had just flown out the window leaving him at the hands of this spirit….this bitch of a spirit…and her psycho husband. He didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t think. Had he just lost a powerful ally?
The spirit laughed, “So your little pet vampire leaves so soon. And then there were none.” She smiled a nasty smile before she put her hands around Finn’s throat. The old man just sneered.
Even as Finn was trying to pry her hands off him, he thought of something else. (He was surprised he could even think at all.)
Marceline sure had a weird reaction before she flew out. She was looking back at the fireplace and the window when she could fired the crossbow and…-
Oh he thought, I see now, I fell for it.
He kicked the spirit off of him, and for the first time, the spirit looked stunned.
Finn now grabbed her by her strait jacket, God knew how she got that in the first place, and shoved her in the fireplace.
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And up above the fireplace, Marceline smirked.

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The spirit only smiled at Finn, clearly not understanding why he would toss her into the fireplace without a fire. She extended her arms to attack…
But then, there was a sound above the fireplace. Finn smiled knowing that the person coming down the chimney was not a jolly, fat man in a red suit.
No. It was an angry vampire queen going for the kill.
Marceline flew down the chimney in her bat form and starting attacking the spirit’s face. The spirit tried flailing her arms around in all directions to keep Marceline at a distance from her. But the vampire wasn’t falling for it.
Now Finn headed toward the old man.
The Crypt keeper’s grandfather was still trying to reattach his crossbow, but the moment he saw Finn coming at him, he reached for a rapier sword that was displayed on the wall.
Finn stabbed his demon sword into the old man’s hand before he could touch the rapier sword. The old man yelped in pain as Finn snatched the necklace.
“Look who can pick pockets now, Gramps!!” Finn said smugly.
The spirit wasn’t finding Marceline an easy opponent. She was still trying to set herself apart from the vampire, who had just returned to her original form, but was only receiving punches and kicks from Marceline.
“Marceline!” Finn called, “I got it! The necklace!”
“Toss it to me!” She called back.
Finn obeyed, and threw the demon jewelry over to her. She caught it with ease, and then without a second thought, she set her hand aflame along with the necklace.
The spirit dropped to the floor, clutching at her own throat as if she were choking, and made a strangled sound.
The old man was crying out for his wife, forgetting the pain at his hand, and whispered sadly, “…Mary…”
In which she whispered back, “…Richard…”
And then she herself burned until the necklace was nothing but charred remnants of its once beautiful form.
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“What have you done?!” The old man cried, looking back and forth between Finn and Marceline. “Do you have any idea what you just did?…?”
Finn just gave him a pitying gaze, “I know well enough what we just did. You should be damned glad that I’m not taking you in for this. Seriously, you have to let her go.”
What else could he say? The old man clearly loved his wife and was too afraid to let her go that he went insane with power. Finn couldn’t take him in for that. God knows what I would’ve done if my wife had died. he thought.
Finn decided to leave it at that as he was heading toward the exit of the shop and Marceline did the same.
But the old man decided he would never let it go.
As Finn turned around, the old man was coming at him and Marceline with the rapier sword. Finn pushed Marceline out of the way and grabbed his demon sword. Now the hero and the elder man were locked in combat.
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Dammit, he’s not gonna quit until he scores some revenge… Marceline thought gravely. She had to do something to stop him.
She grabbed Finn’s backpack and unzipped it. As she was getting ready to provide an alibi for his missing property, she noticed that Finn either didn’t even see that his dear backpack was gone or didn’t care. Right now, the one with the rapier sword was his first priority.
       Marceline looked in the backpack. It was quite messy in there; she took out some papers and some jewels and kept rummaging through until she finally found what she was looking for.
She took a marker and drew a happy face in the middle of the floor. She didn’t quite fancy herself an artist, but it was the best she could do for now. She doused the drawing in bug milk.
“MALOSO VOBISCUM ET CUM SPIRITUM, She chanted.
The floor broke apart in the middle, opening a portal to the Nightosphere, the true meaning of hell on Earth.
She grabbed the old man, and threw him down the portal. He screamed as he fell, and his meaningless babbles were cut off as Marceline closed the portal.