The flat-bottom boat groaned as it cut through the black Louisiana water, lantern light bouncing off twisted cypress trees draped in silver moss.

Bucky sat at the front of the boat, metal arm resting on one knee, eyes scanning the darkness with practiced suspicion. Beside him, Sam steered with one hand while muttering under his breath.

“This is insane,” Sam said. “You know that, right? We’re in the middle of murder-swamp chasing rumors about a voodoo queen.”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately.

Because through the trees, he finally saw it.

A crooked little shack standing on stilts above the murky water, dim candlelight flickering through the windows.

“There,” Bucky muttered.

The boat bumped softly against rotten wood. The second they stepped onto the dock, the air changed.

Cold.

Not natural cold either. It slithered over their skin like invisible fingers.

Sam noticed it too. “Tell me you feel that.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

The shack door creaked open on its own.

Inside smelled like smoke, old herbs, and something sweet rotting underneath it all. Candles burned in every corner, wax dripping down bottles covered in strange symbols. Bones hung from the ceiling beside dried flowers and tiny glass jars full of things neither man wanted identified.

And sitting at the center table was you. Like you’d been waiting for them.

Bucky frowned slightly, glancing toward Sam. “She doesn’t exactly look like a voodoo queen.”

Your eyebrow lifted.

Slowly, you stood from the table.

The candles flickered violently.

“Don’t you disrespect me, little man.”

The temperature dropped instantly.

Sam stiffened as frost-like chills crawled up his spine. Shadows along the walls stretched unnaturally long.

“Don’t you derogate or deride,” you continued softly, voice smooth as velvet. “You’re in my world now… not your world.”

Something whispered in the darkness behind them.

“And I got friends on the other side.”

A hiss drifted through the room.

“She’s got friends on the other side…”

Both men turned sharply toward the sound, but there was nobody there.

When they looked back at you, you were suddenly closer.

Too close.

You smiled and pressed your hands against their shoulders.

“That’s an echo, gentlemen,” you purred. “Just a little something we have here in Louisiana. Little parlor trick. Don’t worry.”

Bucky’s instincts screamed at him to move, to fight, to grab a weapon—

—but somehow he found himself sitting.

Sam too.

The wooden chairs scraped loudly across the floor.

“Sit down at my table,” you said, circling them slowly. “Put your mind at ease.”

The lantern light dimmed as shadows pooled behind you like living ink.

“If you relax…” you murmured, dragging your fingers across the table’s surface, “it will enable me to do anything I please.”

Sam shot Bucky a look that clearly said absolutely not.

Bucky tried to stand.

Couldn’t.

His metal hand clenched hard enough to dent the chair arm.

You finally returned to your seat and lifted a tarot card between elegant fingers.

“The cards tell stories,” you whispered. “Past. Present. Future.”

Another card flipped onto the table by itself.

“I can read your future.”

Another.

“I can change it ‘round some too.”

The candle flames turned blue.

You leaned forward slightly, eyes settling directly onto Bucky.

“I’ll look deep into your heart and soul.”

A pause.

Then your lips curled faintly.

“You do have a soul, don’t you, James?”

Silence.

Pure stunned silence.

Sam’s head snapped toward Bucky instantly.

Bucky went rigid.

Neither of them had said their names.

Not once.

The room darkened further.

Something moved behind your chair.

Tall shadows peeling themselves from the walls

“Make your wildest dreams come true,” you whispered.

The shadows leaned closer.

“I got voodoo.”

One of the spirits laughed softly.

“I got hoodoo.”

The floorboards creaked beneath invisible footsteps.

“I got things I ain’t even tried.”

Now the entities behind you stood fully formed in the darkness, surrounding your chair like loyal servants made of smoke and nightmares.