The thing in her head forced Regina to stride out of the church. Though still unsettled, she was starting to relax. The plague mask was beginning to feel strangely comfortable and the magpie that squawked in her ear was like a companion. A companion that constantly whispered vile things in her ear, calling back the very woman she had tried to leave behind. The spiderwebbed woman was trailing behind her. Her raspy breathing was the only sound, everything else in the forest dared not speak up. For the most part Regina found that this did not bother her. She clutched the amulet; it was hers, rather it would be if she just let go. If she just let the demon in the plague mask take her completely over. It would be so much easier, she would have nothing to fear from the forest nor the demons in it. One of them had already taken a shine to her. Perhaps it was the plague masked demon who was making her feel like this way, but the offer was oh so alluring. She took one more look at what she'd done and another at the forest. She closed her eyes and let go. She felt the darkness rush into her and screamed out in a kind agony she'd never felt before. She knew all at once that this kind of pain was from Hell itself. The very same Hell where from, Cora had summoned this demon in the first place. A sacrifice. She was the sacrifice. Sacrificium in virtute, sacrificuium ad ultionem exarsere, the ancient chant echoed in her head. She could practically hear her mother whispering it. It whirred around and around in her brain as she and the demon within her navigated the forest. He was in her brain snooping and prying for any clues as to where Henry might be.

With him in her mind she found herself unafraid and un-ailed despite the dreadful state of her body. Deep within she knew that her physical body was of no use to the demon as soon as it accomplished its goal, so it would wear her down until there was nothing left of her. Briefly, before it took total control, she wondered why her mother thought that calling this thing forth would do them any good. The being probably made some pretty promises, but even she knew that a demon would never make good on its word. She must have been desperate, Regina concluded, desperate for power and vengeance.

As she stepped between the trees, with their dead bark and their gaping mite-filled holes she felt her body go tense with anticipation. The thrill of the hunt. Something sickly excited overtook her and twisted her face into a grim smile.

Yet still, the same part of here that screamed in protest earlier, was horrified. Horrified of what was in that forest and horrified of what the beast inside of her would make her do.

.oOo.

Henry hadn't stopped running since he'd initially taken off. He had to find something to break whatever curse his mother was under before something truly dreadful could happen. His lungs were on fire and the soles of his shoes were wearing thin. He could feel each and every pebble against the bottom of his feet. But he kept going, he had no choice; they were all around him and if she stopped even for a moment they would pounce. He regretted not being more attentive to his mother's unease. Maybe if he had known, he could have stopped this. Maybe if she would have spoken up. He felt under his jacket, the book was still there. Being short of anything else to read he swiped it from the black church around when they'd first gotten there. As dismal of an aura the thing emitted, he was thankful for it. Had he not read it, he wouldn't have noticed anything wrong with Regina at all. He wouldn't have had a chance to

escape her…no, not her, the demon—Paludaeve. Just thinking the name chilled him to the core. The book said that it was critical though. Knowing the demon's name provided a means of control. It was like the Dark One's dagger, Henry deduced. He wondered if they came from the same ungodly origin.

He brought himself to a halt. It wasn't safe, but he had to read the book or else he'd be going in blind. He knew one thing for sure; he had to get Regina to the alter. That wouldn't be too difficult though, because she was trying to get him there.

Shrinking himself into the shadows, he uncovered the book. He ran his fingers over its black leather cover. Embedded onto it was a silver skull with blackthorn branches twisting in and out of the eye sockets, nose holes, and mouth. Paludaeve ex Libro, the letters were engraved with the same silver. He turned to the last chapter, thankful that someone had taken the time to translate the text. Probably someone who was just as desperate as he was to defeat this creature. He skimmed the pages with determination. Even as he did so, the forest seemed to leer at him. A crack from somewhere nearby had his head whipping up. His stomach turned when he saw nothing. The only thing worse than seeing something was seeing nothing where something should certainly be. He quickly thumbed through the pages with shaking fingers. He was running out of time. It was difficult to see the words in such poor light but he squinted and persisted because he'd finally come upon the part he'd been looking for. There were a few items he needed to retrieve, among them was an athame, some special rope, and potent sage. More than anything though, he needed to keep the book safe. Buried in its brittle pages was a Latin chant. He would have no hope of memorizing it all beforehand, so he would need to read from the book and pray that he could pronounce the words correctly.

As Henry went to tuck the book away he felt a jaw wrap around his wrist. He caught a glimpse of matted stringy hair, plastered onto a sickly yellow body, thick with slime or sweat. The thing smelled of rotting garbage and had beady yellow eyes. With a snapping sound, much like the one he'd heard earlier the jaw unhinged completely. Its face pushed back, scrunching up in nightmarish folds and wrinkles. And its bloody maw extended like a thick straw full of sharp points. He flinched away and scrambled to his feet. It rose to its full height—hip high on him. But it was no less terrifying and he had no doubt that the monster had speed on its side, if there was anything he learned from his years of watching horror it was that the small ones were the quick ones. He picked up the biggest fallen branch he could find. He waited for the thing to widen its maw and pounce. When, at last, it did, he wedged the branch into its mouth painfully and vertically. Surely that wouldn't stop it, but all he need was time to make a mad dash out of there.

His mind whirred as he darted between trees almost too compact to squeeze through. Where could he possibly find the tools he needed? He already plundered every inch of the black church. "Think Henry, think." He muttered to himself, very careful to keep the dialog inward. He scanned the forest, trying to gain a sense of where he was when he spotted another being. This one was emaciated—practically flat as if it were meant for a 2-D cartoon. It was made to navigate the trees. It spotted Henry and its arm bent and folded into a fine point. With no reason to keep quiet, Henry swore and bitterly asked himself where are all of these things were coming from. He had to be smart about this; there was no way he could out run it. His brain grew frenzied as he fought for a plan. He wove in and out of the trees to the best of his ability, only stopping when his jacket snagged on a tree. He was trapped and that thing was fast drawing close. He struggled with his jacket, huffing and grunting until he freed himself from its tangle. This left him with little time, he snatched Paludaeve ex Libro and bounded to the left where the gap in the trees was the widest. He came to a tree with many knobs and a plan came to mind. But he'd have to ditch the book…

"No way." He muttered allowed, he liked to think that he was smarter than that. His moms had raised him better. He hustled to open the book to the most important pages and swiftly tore them away from their binding. He stuffed them into his pockets and began to climb. The bumps in the tree weren't as easy to grip as he'd hoped, especially with his hands shaking with anxiety. It certainly didn't help that he could feel spiders, centipedes, and other tree-dwelling nocturnal insects smoosh under his palm or crawl across the top of his hands. But he made it and from the looks of it, just on time. The beast below was clawing at the base of the tree. Henry was placing all odds on the notion that it was too malnourished to climb. From up hear he was glad that the trees were so tightly packed, that make the next phase of his plan easier; he jumped from tree to tree until the skeletal thing was a haunting speck in the distance. He dropped to the forest floor at the sight of the lake. From above he could see their initial camping spot, their car, their way out. He could also spot a row of evil bodies blocking the way. But from up there, they would be no bother. He could have done it, could have hopped from tree to tree until he reached safety. But he wouldn't leave his mothers nor Zelena behind. He winced upon remembering the latter of the two wouldn't be coming home and he dreaded to tell Regina why that was.

He trudged along the length of the river, following boot prints that resembled Emma's. He hopped it wasn't a trap. He didn't have to follow it for very long before he found something that brought him to a stunned halt. His stomach lurched at the sight of the body. Its head was still in dipped into the river. He dared not lift it, he could only imagine the damage the fish had done to it in nibbling at it and the sight of leeches stuffed into waterlogged cheeks. It was only after the recognition hit, that Henry leaned over and vomited. After his stomach was effectively emptied, he sobbed softly to himself.

The only person left to take home now, was Regina and a dark part of himself wanted anything but that. He knew that this was her work. Emma's death was too clean to be done by one of the specters in the forest—had they done it Emma would be either slashed up or in pieces. It had to have been Regina, no doubt, with the tug of Paludaeve's influence. He fought to cling onto the fact that Paludaeve could create horrifying tricks and illusions that could easily have pit both Regina and Emma against each other. Emma could have done this to Regina too, it could have been the other way around, he thought to himself. It was the only thing that kept resentment from bubbling up and pushing him to abandon the only parent he had left. All the same he couldn't help the violent thoughts that dance through his stream of thoughts. Regina had killed Emma, and he wanted to hurt her. To end her. He shook his head as hard as he could without hurting himself. No, that wasn't him, he wasn't that kind of person, and he wouldn't let the forest trick him into thinking he was. That's not what Emma would have wanted.

He took her hand. "I'll save Regina for both of us. And I'll get rid of Paludaeve for good." He gave that cold lifeless hand a squeeze.

His hand curled around the pages of the book. Just where was he going to find sage around here? Where was the rope, the athame? He had next to nothing to go by. He stared in front of him. He couldn't see it through the wall of trees, but the alter was just ahead.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. With it came a series of angry chirps and squawks. He watched the battle unfold in a tangle of feathers and beaks. A robin red breast and a magpie snapping and pecking mercilessly at each other. Even though it wasn't faring well, Henry was rooting for the robin. He watched the magpie clamp its beak down on a cluster of the robin's feathers and snap its neck back. With it came a sickly tearing noise. Blood welled up where the feathers once rested and the robin cried out. A certain fury befell Henry, without thinking he took a rock—perhaps the same one Regina had hit Emma with—and chucked it. For a brief window of time, Henry feared that he'd strike both the robin and the magpie. But it collided only with the magpie. His victory was signaled by the sound of a gruesome crunch. He could see the magpie's feathers still twitching under the rock. Despite it all, Henry felt pity for it. He didn't want to kill the bird, he just wanted to stop it from killing the other. A horrible shriek sliced through his wave of mourning. He found himself growing rigid, he needed to get moving. On weak wings, the robin fluttered over. He watched it choke for a moment before gagging up what looked like a dried herb. Morbid curiosity had him observing it more closely.

Sage.

It was no use to him in such a state, but it was sage.

On skinny legs, the robin zipped around. With no other lead, Henry opted to follow it. He had saved its life, now he hoped that it would do the same thing for him. He followed it until the church's dismal spires were in clear view. "No, no." Henry whispered. "We can't go there yet." But the robin was clear in its intentions. It was leading him right to the alter. Perhaps he had made a mistake in saving it.

Or, he considered, what he was looking for had been near him all along.

The robin came to a stop at a stone on the alter that was cracked and weeping creeping-ivy. It's tiny battered beak tugged at the vines. Henry swiveled his head every which way before deciding to step out of the tree line. Coming to conclude that not another soul (kind nor vile) was around, he stepped forward. He came to stand before the stone and brushed the ivy to the side. Hesitantly, he pried the stone loose. Only half of it refused to budge but that was good enough. He took his flashlight from his pocket. The lens was cracked but it clicked on despite the damage. He shined it into the hole and peered in. He smiled, the robin led him to exactly what he needed. Except for the athame, someone else had gotten to that first.

That someone stood behind him grinning so savagely and twistedly that he could scarcely recognize her. Regina took two off-balance steps towards him. "Henry. Oh good, Henry I was looking all over for you." She sounded like Regina, the voice was the same. But there was something in her concerned tone that didn't quite sit right with what Henry was familiar with. "Henry, come here, I'll protect you." He realized then exactly what was disturbing him. Her voice quivered with false worry but her expression…she was still smiling crazily. It was like she'd forgotten to match her face with her voice.

He could see the athame glistening in her hand.

"Henry." She repeated. This time her voice was laced with another deep more guttural one. "Henry, did you kill my pet?" She lurched forward, slamming him into one of the pillars. The impact rocked his shoulders. Regina was much stronger than he thought, she had him very effectively pinned. He refused to drop the sage and the rope though. Instead he stuffed those into his pockets as she dragged him towards the alter.

"Mom, let go, you're hurting me." He tried, hoping to reach the real Regina. He half expected her to throw him on to the alter but she still had her wits about her, instead she lowered him down and held him there. Instead of trying to keep him down she lifted her arms and with them a wall of fire rose up to surround the alter. He had nowhere to go. She took him by surprise again when she delivered one swift kick to each of his knees, he was on the ground again. The athame flashed in her hand. He could hear her frenzied breathing and wondered if she was still fighting for control or if she had been completely consumed. She had him pinned again, this time to the floor. Her knee was digging painfully into his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Regina had her hands covering her left eye. The robin swooped down again, snapping at her hear drawing blood.

It pained him to do so, but he pounced, knocking Regina down. This time it was she who found herself pinned to the ground. He worked as quickly as he could to bind her hands. She was kicking and writhing beneath him, snarling like some kind of animal. He could see the pure rage in her eyes. She wanted to hurt him…to kill him. She was speaking but nothing he could understand; he could swear she was speaking in reverse.

When Henry finally got her sufficiently bound, he wrenched the athame from her grasp and withdrew the torn pages. With them the sage dropped to the floor. The sage! Never taking his eyes off of his mother, he gathered the sage bundle and held it to the fire. He set it down next to Regina and she screamed out. The sound that followed was bone chilling and had no trace of Regina in it at all. It was all Paludaeve, he knew what was about to happen. Henry glowered down at the demon. He would free Regina from it forever. As calmly as he could manage, he began reciting the lines from Paludaeve ex Libro. He did his best not to stumble over words so foreign to him. But after running through the same long chant over and over again the words seemed to blend and bleed together. Between that and watching Regina struggle against the binds, twisting in ways that should not be possible, he was having trouble. He knew that exorcisms were a foul business, but seeing it before his own eyes was a different matter. He carried on regardless wondering why he was making such little progress. Once again it was the robin that came to his aid. In its beak it carried a rosary. The cross! Henry thought. Apparently, the book thought that such was common sense. Henry felt foolish for not knowing. The one he was gifted wasn't nearly as large as the ones in the movies, but it would work. It had to.

He held it close to Regina, hearing her hiss and draw back was enough to let him know that it would be effective. He resumed the chant, this time with the cross held above her head. His hand was too close though, and she offered it a blood drawing bite. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore the feeling. She fought the binds until her wrists grew red and raw. The tiniest dots of blood speckled her skin. He kept chanting, over and over again until he could see the darkness ebbing from her mouth towards the moon. With the most awful choking sound, Regina's body let go of the last bit of darkness. She went still, but he could still hear her soft cries.

The demon, in it's true from, was upon him. For a moment all he could do was stare. Everything he ever knew about demons told him that they were hideous things to behold—stuff that can only be seen in the most dreadful of nightmares. But this being was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but a space of true darkness. A deep black pit where the air should be. He picked up the athame unsure if he should toss it at the darkness or not. He held it up as he'd seen the Dark One's dagger being held and with it he lifted the rosary. Paludaeve kept its distance. From him anyways, the ghastly creature was heading right back to its host. Quickly Henry attached the rosary to the athame and let it fly, directly into the heart of the dark void. He was breathing quite heavily but dashed over to Regina's side anyhow and undid the knots. "We have to go mom."

Her eyes were glossy and distant. He was losing her and he didn't know how to help.

"Monolith." She whispered.

"What?"

"Monolith." She repeated. "Bring it," she pointed at the featureless demon, "to the monolith."

Henry didn't know how she knew that or if she knew what she was talking about at all. He winced, or if he could trust her word. He shook his head, the vileness was gone from her. This was his Regina. His mom. Mustering up the very last of his energy, he bolted up the hill. He weaved between headstones and nearly tripped over rocks, all the while the hellish entity pursued him. It was always just a pencil length away. At the last second, he ducked down and made a sliding dive at the monolith. The lonesome structure knew it's job and Henry was thankful to have ducked. With a sound most comparable to an airy blender and a beam of hot white light, it sucked the dark pit in. Paludaeve was nothing more than a splotch on the blinding beam.

Just when Henry thought he'd heard all of the Earth, and Hell's most horrid sounds, there came another. A bone chilling, gut churning choir. Each and every member of Paludaeve's monstrous legion was screaming. All at once and from everywhere at once. Each had its own district wail. Henry covered his ears and felt a warm fluid seep between his fingers. He wondered if Regina had the strength to cover her own. She must have—but deliberately chose not to—for she was crawling up the hill. Either too weak or too broken, she could move herself in no other way. "Mom, get back." Henry instructed, but his words drowned and sunk in the anguished sea of noise. He couldn't even hear himself.

And then it all stopped.

The woods around them were completely silent. The kind of silence that made Henry want to scream just to make it go away. A kind of silence that very well matched, the absence of color wherever Paludaeve hovered.

The silence dragged on for many minutes and finally, the monolith closed in a hiss of air. The death rattle of that which had never been born.

Henry fell onto his back breathing hard. Finally having the time, he opened the flood gates and cried. Cried in fear and pain and for the losses he hadn't the chance to actually weep for.

But Regina wasn't done. She came to a gravestone and forced a body, already spent far past its limit, into a standing position. With the last ounce of her strength and willpower, she threw her magic upon the monolith. It crumbled with a stony groan. Never again would it spit evil out into their world again. With a satisfied and victorious smirk, she fell face first onto the ground.

.oOo.

"You ready mom?" Henry asked, he was beaming from ear to ear.

It was difficult for her, more difficult than anything else she'd ever done, to pretend that she was okay. She was at times, truly content. But at her worst she could still taste Paludaeve on her tongue, still feel his uninvited touch in her mind. Even after all these years his scent lingered on her and she could vividly feel the tears in her feet. More than anything she could still feel the blood of two of the people she cared for most, on her hands. It hurt and burned her up on the inside.

But she was ready.

Ready to move on.

Ready to live again.

"Yes Henry, I am." She returned his smile warmly.

Henry took her hand, his fingers brushing over the rough scar tissue on her wrist. He led her out to the car and finished stuffing the tent into the back. "You sure?"

She squeezed his hand and looked up at the sky. A lonely robin with a beaten beak swooped down and landed on her shoulder. "Absolutely."