A Demon For Christmas

Ch-2

Amelia didn’t know where she was going, but after what seemed like an hour of driving on autopilot, she finally saw a small cottage nestled in the woods.

An ache spread through her chest as she realised that somehow her subconscious had led her to the only place that had ever felt safe: Granny Nancy’s cottage.

Even though Granny was gone, Amelia felt her presence here. Maybe this place could quiet the aching void in her chest, even if only for a little while.

She killed the engine and stepped out into the snow. Even through her coat, the chill still seeped into her as she made her way to the front door.

Distantly, she realised she hadn’t even brought the key with her. It was in one of the boxes back home.

Damnit.

Amelia wanted to turn back and leave, but she still reached for the doorknob and gave it a futile twist.

Her heart slammed into her chest when it turned and pushed open, tufting a wave of icy air into her face.

It was unlocked!

Swallowing hard, she stepped inside and began shivering harder. Damn, the cottage was freezing down to the bones.

Suddenly, tears pricked her eyes as she stood in the dim entryway. It used to be so warm here.

Granny’s laughter would echo through the rooms, and the fireplace was always cackling.

But now…now, it was like stepping into a mausoleum.

Amelia’s hand fumbled along the wall until she found the light switch and flicked it. The bulbs flickered to life and illuminated the entire space, thank god!

Dust covered every surface as if it’d been years since anyone came in here, when it’d only been a few months.

A teacup sat abandoned on the side table near Granny’s favourite armchair. The blanket she used to knit under was draped over the armrest.

It was as if Granny had simply stood up one day and never returned.

And yet, Amelia never even came to see her in her last days.

Blinking back her tears, she wrapped her arms around herself, more for comfort than warmth, as she made her way to the fireplace.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw that there was still wood stacked neatly inside.

“Thank God,” Amelia murmured, glancing around until she sighted a matchbox on the shelf.

She reached for it and struck a match.

Flame immediately sputtered, and she threw it into the hearth. Soon the fire was roaring, its warmth slowly creeping into the cold corners of the room.

As Amelia headed towards the bedroom, nostalgia slammed into her, followed by the familiar scent of her Grandma.

She closed her eyes and let it wash over her until her eyes felt like they were burning. It hurt so much.

When she reached the door, Amelia hesitated. Blood began roaring loudly in her ears and she felt faint.

Would she meet her sweet grandmother tucked into bed asleep like nothing had changed?

“Oh why didn’t you tell us you were ill, Nana?” Amelia thought with a silent cry, unable to stop the single tear that slipped down her cheek.

Finally, she gathered up courage and pushed the door open, but what she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.

A freaking hexagonal circle.

It was scratched in black on the floor near the bed. But even though the room was almost in complete darkness, barely illuminated by the light in the hall, strange symbols on the edge of the circle seemed to be glowing.

Amelia’s heart stumbled as her brain scrambled to make sense of it. She noticed the piles of old leather books and papers on the bed, strewn across the quilt.

“What the hell…?” Amelia whispered, moving closer, unconsciously stepping right into the centre of the circle.

She leaned over and picked up one of the books, but a note fell from within it, and she bent to pick it up.

“s**t!” Amelia hissed, jerking her hand back as pain sliced through her. A thin line of blood welled up on her fingertip and the sting made her eyes water. She instinctively brought the finger to her mouth, sucking on it to stop the bleeding, as she glanced at the floor.

Her blood had dripped onto one of the dark markings on the floor, spilling over onto the white powdery stuff that seemed to surround it.

Was that… Amelia bent down and swiped her uninjured index finger on the white stuff, rubbing it between her fingers... Sugar…? Or salt?

She probably should get a rag to wipe the blood before it permanently stains the floor. Her heart ached as she remembered how her granny would painstakingly clean this house.

Since the door wasn’t locked, it was probably silly hooligans who had drawn all this weird s**t on the floor.

Gritting her teeth, Amelia turned to leave, but then a low rumble vibrated through the cottage, rattling the windows and making the floor tremble beneath her feet.

“What the–” Amelia’s voice cut off as the entire house shook violently.

Thunder roared above, and the lights in the hall flickered before going out abruptly, plunging the entire house into darkness, before a strange red glow returned.

Amelia yelped in surprise, her heart pounding as she stumbled towards the door, but it felt like nothing was in the position it was seconds ago.

The door felt like it was miles away, moving further and further as she reached for it.

Then just as it started, it stopped.

Amelia was gasping, her eyes as large as saucers as she finally felt the closet door in her trembling hand.

She hauled herself against it, panting, “Must be an earthquake,” though a tiny part of her didn’t believe it.

Trying to shake off her panic, she decided to leave the room, but when she glanced at the bed, Amelia FROZE.

A figure stood in the centre of the hexagon.

It was massive with crimson eyes that glowed in its monstrous face and horns curved from its head. Its skin was pitch black, and faint embers seemed to flicker beneath its surface.

Icy fear curled down her spine, and Amelia almost fainted. Holy crap! She thought. Holy crap.

She needed to run!

The door was just a few f*****g feet away. But her muscles froze, and she was unable to move.

It took the…the thing growling her name, for Amelia to finally gain control of her limbs. A scream tore through her throat, and she scrambled backwards, feet slipping on the floorboards. The creature stretched its massive hand, but Amelia wasn’t waiting to find out what it wanted.

She bolted from the room, fear licking a hot path through her veins as she ran. The walls seemed to close in around her, and shadows chased her through the suddenly narrow and dark hall.

Finally bursting through the front door, Amelia sucked in the icy night air. Her hands shook so violently she could barely grip her car keys, but sheer desperation kept her moving.

She didn’t even look back as she slammed the door to her car shut and twisted the key in the ignition.

Luckily, after a few twists, the car roared to life and she peeled out onto the snow-covered road.

Her heart was pounding like crazy, but she forcefully kept her eyes on the road.

Even as the cottage slowly disappeared behind her, Amelia didn’t dare look back.

Later that evening, after her pulse had steadied and her breath no longer came in short, panicked gasps, Amelia sat at the edge of her childhood bed.

The events at the cottage still played on a loop in her mind, but she refused to let herself believe it had been real.

“It was just stress,” she muttered aloud as if trying to convince herself. “Sleep deprivation, a hidden concussion from when Greg had slammed my head into the wall when i gave him the divorce papers. A panic attack, maybe even hypothermia, yeah, that’s it. It’s been a long day, and my mind…my mind made it all up.”

The explanation felt hollow even as she repeated it in her head, but it was the only way she could stop herself from spiralling.

With a deep breath, Amelia tried to refocus on the present. She could hear the muffled sound of conversations downstairs, and guilt churned in her gut for not being down there with them, but that feeling wasn’t new to her. It clung to her like a second skin.

Her eyes suddenly darted to the boxes piled in the corner. She should probably unpack and pick out the clothes Ethan would wear to sleep.

Wait!

Speaking of Ethan, where the hell was her son?

Worry tightened her stomach, and she stood up from her bed, making her way downstairs.

“Where’s Ethan?” she asked as soon as she arrived in the living room.

Everyone immediately glanced up at her, asking where she’d been but Kat thankfully cut into the interrogation and answered. “He’s probably with his cousins in the backyard.”

Amelia’s stomach knotted. Her room’s window opened to the backyard, and she hadn’t heard any of the kids.

Besides, the unease from earlier hadn’t fully dissipated. Ethan, as excited as he was, was new to this town, and while this was probably the safest place in the entire world, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable letting him roam around, plus it was still snowing heavily.

As she opened her mouth to ask again, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Amelia quickly offered, desperate for something to do. She moved to the door, hoping it was her son. But when she pulled it open, her eyes blinked at the sight before her.

A handsome man stood on the porch, and even before she raised her head to meet his gaze, she recognised him. She would never forget him.

From his polished shoes to his starched uniform collar, he looked every inch a professional lawman, five-pointed star badge pinned to his chest.

“Kyle.” his name choked in her throat.