Careful What You Hunt For

By Emily Grant

Genies don’t like to be called monsters. We monster hunters like to disagree.

Sure, they’re beautiful. Sure, they’ll give you three wishes. But you have to catch them first—before they mess with your head, or turn invisible, or shapeshift into a scorpion so that you don’t want to catch them. Most people don’t know how much genies are capable of, but my partner and I have been in the business long enough to pick up on a few things.

“She knows we’re here,” Lilia says in a low voice. The lights flicker, though the museum closed hours ago. The air chills my skin. Our flashlight beams dart left to right, illuminating mummies and golden sphinx statues. But no genie.

I pull my monster tracker from one of the pouches on my belt.

“Anything?” Lilia asks.

“No.” I increase the sensitivity of the radar and study the screen. No blips. Nothing. “She’s got to be here. The museum director just called in the sighting less than an hour ago.”

“Jada, we’ve been monster hunting for years, and the one monster we haven’t caught is a genie. I think we both know that they’re unpredictable to say the least.” She laughs. “Which is why maybe people should be careful not to buy a bottle with a genie still in it.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone’s trained like us to think of those things.” I exhale. “She’s avoiding us too easily. Maybe we should split up.”

Lilia straightens and nods bravely.

“Here.” I dig into one of the pouches on my belt. “You take the bottle. I’ve got my stun gun.”

I hand Lilia one of our many monster-hunting tools: a slender, exquisite bottle, bejeweled with purple and blue gems. A stunning residence, really, but I’ve heard genies aren’t so fond of being locked up.

“Be careful,” Lilia says as we back away from each other.

“You too.” I tuck my flashlight under my arm, my stun gun poised. If I can catch the genie at exactly the right moment, the rays of the gun will pierce her supernatural essence and freeze her long enough for Lilia to arrive and trap her in the bottle.

And once the lid’s on that bottle, Miss Genie won’t be getting out. At least not for a hundred years, when the magic will have worn off enough for some other ignorant museum director to rub it for fun and release her. If only the old genie bottle the museum purchased had been so secure.

But Lilia and I plan to keep this one hidden under lock and key, so the genie has no more opportunities to escape.

A cold wind rushes by me, pulling my braid with it and dropping it over my shoulder. The lights continue to flicker like a spazzy firefly.

Do I hear breathing?

I hold my own breath and creep past the sarcophagus collection. My spine shivers at the sound of whispery movement nearby. As I pass another hallway, I see a blur out of the corner of my eye. I look down the hall just as a translucent figure dashes past. The airy veil and the baggy pants are easy to identify. I’ve found her.

The lights flash back on, and I stuff my flashlight into my belt to get it out of the way. Pulling out my communicator, I tap out a quick message. Come to south side, hallway across from sarcophagi. Already running, I hit send.

As I whirl around the corner, gun aimed, I catch a glimpse of the ethereal creature just before everything goes dark again. I snatch my flashlight from my belt and flip the switch, but nothing happens.

I can’t breathe. She’s here. I’m in a dark hallway with a genie, and I’m all but powerless. Lilia better get here soon.

A soft footstep falls behind me. I sigh in relief, but that’s shattered when someone grasps my arm and wrenches it behind my back. I try to pull away, but she has both my hands now, and yanks the one holding the stun gun closer. She forces it out of my grasp, I hear the trigger, and a cold, numbing shock jolts through my body. I can’t speak. I can’t move. I can’t even scream.

She darts in front of me and presses her forehead to mine. A chill goes from my head down through my veins, and I feel myself changing, though I can’t say how.

Footsteps pound down the hallway behind me. Lilia! I try to call her name, but I’m still paralyzed.

The lights come on. The genie is nowhere in sight. My vision is obstructed by something bluish hanging over my face. I still can’t turn my head, but my peripheral vision tells me that instead of my sensible, black monster-hunting gear, I’m wearing sheer blue fabric. Cool air hits my bare stomach.

“Great job, Jada!” Lilia laughs and steps in front of me, holding our genie bottle. She stares me down, disbelief on her face. “We finally caught a genie.”

Someone strides to her side, and if I could gasp, I would. There stands me. Monster-hunting getup, brown braid, and all— plus a smug grin and an eerie sparkle in my eyes.

Why didn’t anyone ever tell me genies can switch bodies?

“You’re going away for a long time, genie.” Lilia uncaps the bottle and holds it out toward me.

I want to scream. But all I can do is nothing as an invisible force suffocates me and sucks me into the dark depths of the bottle.

Whether it takes a hundred years, or a thousand—when I get out of here, that genie better start running.

Can you guess which song from the 1990's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Grant doesn’t remember the first time she wrote a story, but she’s never looked back. Though her main focus is on novels- mostly fantasy- Havok recently helped draw her back into the wonderful world of short fiction. She loves coffee, rainy days, superheroes, and candles, and while she currently lives in Missouri, she hopes to somehow live in the Shire one day.

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