Chapter 7 #2
My stomach plummets. I stare at him, waiting for the punchline.
I couldn’t possibly have summoned a demon because demons don’t exist. The grimoire said the spell was for spirits like my sister.
A spirit like me now. The alternative—I don’t want to think about it because what if I’ve sold my soul to the Devil?
He’s lying. He’s messing with me for some reason.
This time, when he takes a step forward so there’s only two feet of space between us, I remain firm, and that might just be my biggest mistake because his head tips to the side, teasing yet impatient. It’s the look a hunter gives its prey when it’s playing with it.
“Don’t believe me?” His amusement is dipped in irritation, and my own amplifies. I’m done with the bullshit, and the sooner I can figure out how to get out of here, the better.
My annoyance sputters and fizzles out because his entire body changes, and every horror story I’ve heard of comes to life.
Blue eyes morph into stark crimson, and two curved crimson horns spear from his hairline and reach for the ceiling. Curved ears sharpen into points, and nails elongate into black talons that stain the once tanned skin of his fingers charcoal.
My trembling multiplies with each new revelation, breaking my brittle mask.
A long, sharp-tipped tongue pokes from his mouth when he pulls his lips into an earsplitting smile. “How about now?”
Half a second is all it takes—and it’s the deadliest half second I’ve experienced. Adrenaline explodes through my system, and I fucking lose it, flying through the walls and out into the shrubbery outside the house.
I run like the hounds of hell are at my heels—and for all I know, they might be. My senses hone and sharpen, fueled by the terror of the monster I unleashed upon myself. I don’t know where I’m going—don’t care where I end up, as long as it’s far the fuck away from him.
“You think you can outrun me? I’ve been torturing souls longer than you’ve been able to breathe.” His voice booms through the forest.
Swirls of fog drift through my legs. Each dewdrop on the long blades of grass lies perfectly still as I sprint across the field into the tree line, navigating the forest with no plan in mind.
No clouds of condensation follow my ragged breaths.
I occasionally—pointlessly—jump over tree roots and fallen logs out of habit, and somewhere at the back of my head, there’s a pounding, like a warning bell that something else is going to go wrong.
I keep telling myself it can’t be possible, but I know what I saw. How the shadows molded and reacted to him before he broke my neck. How he appeared out of thin—
“Boo.”
My scream pierces the morning air, but it sounds hollow without the foreboding echo that would usually bounce off the trees.
The demon appears in front of me with a grin, revealing sharpened canines that I missed the first time.
I scramble away before I run into him. “Leave me alone,” I yell.
Fuck, how does a ghost kill a demon?
A sound of irritation comes from his chest. “I’m trying.”
Trying? The creature advances, and I keep one eye on him as I edge backward, attempting to infuse some semblance of confidence and authority in my voice. I fall well short.
“Don’t follow me.” My words are shrill.
“I have no desire to. But it seems whenever you get too far, I’m forced to fucking show up.”
Yet he does follow—he keeps stalking forward, backing me up against a tree as my energy continues bounding hard through my ghostly veins. I hold up my hands. “Stop right there.”
He raises a brow in amusement. “You think death keeps you safe from me?”
“I don’t know what you want, but I can’t help you.” I inch backward, mentally preparing myself to fall right through the tree and keep running.
“Oh, but I think you can. You got me into this mess—you fix it.” He bats my hand away like he’s about to lunge for me.
I jerk back, spinning round with every intention of using my unfortunate bodiless circumstances to my advantage. But instead, I smack right into the tree.
Pain explodes through my face, sharp and aching. I think I’ve broken my fucking nose. My arms fly out in front of me to grip the tree for balance.
And I do.
I touch the tree as if I were still solid. I feel the rough, moistened bark beneath my palms. It’s right there, beneath my fingers. I—I’m touching something.
Neither of us says a word as I continue leaning my weight against it, testing to make sure I’m not imagining things. Our combined shock must absorb all the silence because his red eyes are locked on the hand that’s gripping the tree.
The fear and pain ebbs away with my confusion. I don’t understand. My feet flew right through tree roots before. I literally fell through the floor. Branches, leaves, and grass were completely unaffected by my presence.
My limbs grow heavy from my crashing adrenaline, and I lean against the trunk for support. A weight forms at the back of my skull as I turn to face the demon, using my newfound skill to up my bluster.
What would my parents say if they were in this position? Being myself never got me very far.
Father was more a wolf than a feline. He was a pushover compared to my mother, though most people didn’t realize it, yet he was formidable in his own right; he was the brawn behind the operation. He held the gun, and Mother told him where to fire it. And me? I don’t know what I am. Silent. Bitter.
If I did speak, the words would come out without thinking. That’s what I was, and silent I still am.
I wasn’t built for the type of life my parents led, and given the person I became in the years before and after Ella’s death, I don’t think I’m equipped to handle a demon anymore.
But… what do I have to lose? I’m dead, aren’t I? And the bastard in front of me is the reason, and… I blink hard. What was I…?
Right.
“Look, I’m sorry for whatever it is I did.
” My words are slurred. The weight in my skull grows and scatters through my brain, darkening my vision as I blink hard to stop my eyes from drooping.
“I truly have no idea what’s going on, or why I’m stuck in this godforsaken manor.
I was just trying to summon my sister to talk—”
I’m cut off with a gasp. The tree vanishes from beneath my hand, and my body goes down, tumbling through it to the other side.
My axis spins as I roll across the dirt, joints and muscles refusing to comply with my attempt to break my fall. My limbs tremble as I try to pull myself up and fight against the black dots in my vision.
I feel both too heavy and like smoke in the wind.
For two solid, fleeting seconds, I manage to hold on to the root. Then my hand smashes against the dirt, and the rest of my body follows, and darkness takes hold.
This time, it’s not death that takes me but something in between.