When Noah got back to Mary’s place, he expected she’d already be asleep, knocked out by her pills and by the exhaustion she kept complaining about over not having slept much the night before.
Instead he was greeted by an empty, neatly made bed with a torn notebook page lying on top of it. He recognized her girly, slightly slanted handwriting immediately.
Noah,
Went over to Tam’s; she wanted to talk things through. Sorry I couldn’t wait for you. You know how impatient I am.
- Mary
“I can’t believe her,” Noah told Avery, groaning. His ghostly eyes instantly darted to the space between Mary’s bed and her night table, where she kept all her demon-fighting weapons and supplies. The space was thankfully empty. “At least she had the cautiousness to take all the stuff. Come on; let’s go meet up with her.”
As Noah slipped back into the lit streets, he couldn’t help but feel a prick of doubt stir in the back of his mind. Doubt and fear. It was around eight in the evening—the sky’s color was almost completely faded, a wash of darkness bleeding into it; cars were out and about as people drove home after a long day of work in the nearest big city—and some small part of Noah couldn’t find it likely that Tam would want to meet with Mary at such an inconvenient time. Not to mention that, considering Noah had left Mary around five when she went downstairs to eat dinner, he doubted she’d be reckless enough to stay out too late into the night. Especially when she was probably doing this behind her parents’ backs and she was already in deep trouble as it was due to what had happened the night before.
Noah tried his best to contain his worry, to not let it fester and consume his mind. He tended to do that when matters concerned Mary. Avery was gesturing for them to go up, pointing a finger eagerly at the star-speckled sky. He cracked a grin and grabbed her tiny hand, unable to resist the thrill of flying like a bird, like a plane, like a superhero.
This was how the pair travelled around Cullis Port. And in Noah’s—and undoubtedly Avery’s—opinion, it was the right way. The only way.
“Ready?” he asked her. Avery nodded fervently. Then he shot up like a rocket, flying up so high that they touched the clouds. Below them, Cullis Port was a mass of sparkling Christmas lights and a maze of snaking roads and houses and bare, spindly treetops. Clumps of melting snow glittered from rooftops, chimneys coughed out puffs of smoke, windows glowed with the yellow hue of being warm on a cold winter evening. And south of it all was the disturbed ocean, its waves licking at Cullis Port like a hungry child attacking a lollipop; the navy blue sea would come and go with the tide, battering against Cullis Port’s side like it was slowly eating it away with all that tireless eroding and chipping.
In Noah’s opinion, this was the only good thing about being a dead ghost. This breathtaking view, this dizzying thrill was like a shot of adrenaline to his numbed body and soul. It was invigorating; it made him feel as close to being alive as he thought he could ever get again. It had felt this way when he had kissed Mary—and even being in her presence sometimes jolted him with that sense of aliveness, but not as extreme. This little stolen moment right here, just like the moment he spent with Mary’s lips solid on his, was pure bliss.
Avery, the little thrill seeker, spread her arms like a bird and pretended to fly. Noah mimicked her, and together they flew over to Tam’s house in a matter of minutes, landing gracefully on her front lawn.
There was only one issue that quickly became apparent once they went inside. The house was empty, save for Tam’s father who was in his own little world in the basement. Noah checked everywhere, even the closets, the toilets. But Mary and Tam were nowhere to be found.
He refused to panic. Panic made a mess out of you, turned you into a wild thing that acted on impulse and irrationality, not brains and carefulness. And right now he needed the latter two more than ever. Where could Mary and Tam have gone? Perhaps they went to hang out somewhere—perhaps talk things through over a plate of food or on a park bench. Or maybe they went for a walk.
But none of that seemed very likely. It was pretty late to be out anywhere, especially since the pair was well aware of a demon’s tendency to strike at night. Not to mention that Mary would have left a note for him somewhere, full aware of his tendency to worry. Just as Noah was about to leave Tam’s house and begin his search, he spotted something that caused a strange sensation to manifest in his chest, as if his heart had suddenly—and fleetingly—become solid enough to weigh like a rock in him, pulsating.
It was Mary’s bag of demon hunting things.
At that point Noah was done being rational. Mary would never go anywhere without that bag, not if Noah wasn’t with her, even if Tam was. And Tam had left her equipment behind, too, as Noah had assessed after a quick inspection of her room.
Something was wrong.
Noah thought of the cross Tam had yanked from her neck and thrown across the study. He went to it now, lifting it off the ground from where it still lay in a dusty, shadowy corner beside a fake bamboo plant.
Could it be possible that Tam had gotten… possessed?
Fear gripped Noah. If that was the case then Mary was in bigger trouble than he had initially thought.
“Come on, Avery,” he said as he made his way out of Tam’s house, flinching as he passed through the wall because human instinct didn’t go away once you died. “Let’s go find Mary. Quick.”
Noah conducted his search with as much order and common sense as he could conjure up in his distressed state. What he really wanted to do was fly around the city like a madman, calling out for Mary in every street and home and building. Instead he went to the places he thought perhaps Tam and Mary would be, starting with Mary’s house and working his way northwestwards until he got to Marina Harbor. There was no sign of either of them anywhere. From Marina Harbor he decided to trail the beach since he was already by the water. He passed by Mermaid Cove and Mason’s house and Lock-and-Key bay. He made it to Whitecap Beach and even checked Seaside High—now closed for winter break, but he didn’t doubt it as a possibility considering a demon might very well be behind all of this. Still, nothing. Noah had begun to panic when he reached Lighthouse Point.
And that was when he saw them.
Demons.
From a typical living human’s perspective, the pair of still, stoic-looking individuals standing on either side of the lighthouse’s entrance would have been quickly written off as just some more typical living humans. But Noah knew better. He could see it, could see the puppeteer pulling the strings, the ugly face behind the mask. This was one of the rare instances in which being a ghost had its advantages—only the dead could see through a demonic possession. There were definitely two possessed individuals looking like a pair of London guards, clearing keeping watch at the lighthouse’s dingy entrance for a reason—perhaps to keep whatever was going on within its walls a protected secret.
Noah instantly knew this was a sign of trouble. He had no idea what was going on inside the lighthouse. Perhaps there was a group meeting being conducted. Lighthouse Point may very well be the headquarters for all these demons that come out from the gate, the place where they convene and plan their next attacks and targets. It all seemed very dramatic and movie-ish, though, and Noah knew it was because he liked to think of everything as if they resembled some epic film. What was it that Mary had told him? Life isn’t a movie, Noah.
Clearly it wasn’t, because the grand majority of movies had happy endings. And right now Noah couldn’t think of a single possible way for how all of this could end happily for everyone.
Besides, demons seemed to be much more disorganized than that. They were compulsive killers, trouble makers that liked to fight even amongst each other. They thrived on that sort of discord.
No. There wasn’t some classified, top secret meeting going on inside that lighthouse. This scene had evil intentions written all over it. And all Noah could think of was Mary and Tam, missing, gone without a trace.
He neared the lighthouse, murmuring for Avery to stay where she was, away from the demons. She appeared reluctant to be alone, a frightened look invading her soft green eyes.
“I’ll be back,” Noah told her. “I promise.”
Noah immediately cursed himself for saying such a thing, because in the movies that usually meant the person wasn’t coming back.
He approached the lighthouse with all the stealth and silence of a predatory cat. Soon it towered over him, a candy cane-striped rounded pyramid with a tapered point and a bulging bottom. Even in the dark one could easily make out its traces of grime and dirt, shading its whiteness so that with the shadows the lighthouse’s color more closely resembled a dark grey, shot through with stripes of blood red. At the very top of the lighthouse was a revolving guide light for incoming boats.
It was intended for authorized personnel only, but Noah was certain practically every teenager made a point to sneak into it at least once in their lives—including Noah, back when he was alive. He and Mary and Tam had entered the lighthouse one night to search for any spirits. They’d come up empty, but it was still a rather exciting experience—particularly the view of the ocean at the very top, and the fun shadows one could make with the light as it turned around and around. The door was a squeaky, metal thing with a lock that required one to twist it like you would the wheel of a boat—it had the same shape, too, except it was located directly on the door’s face. Noah didn’t bother using that entrance—what was the point, when you could just walk through walls?
He had to be careful, though. He went around the lighthouse, on the other side from where the entrance and the two demons guarding it were. Then he merely stuck his head through the wall, enough for him to see what was going on inside.
More demons. There were three on the first floor, except they weren’t possessing anyone’s body. Noah guessed they either weren’t powerful enough to do something like that or they couldn’t find a vessel that suited their personalities and tastes. As Noah floated upwards to the second floor, he assessed two more demons standing at random intervals in the middle of the winding metal staircase. He still had no idea what they were all doing here. Clearly they weren’t conducting some important meeting (unless they just so happened to be on break or something), but the way these demons were just standing around like statues led Noah to assume that they were doing something integral. The question was: what?
Noah got his answer not three seconds later the moment he reached the second floor. He peered inside, a gasp nearly escaping him at the sight that greeted him.
Tam was there. Tam and Daniel and, tied quite exaggeratedly to an old, rusty metal chair with a mess of rope and tape, Mary. There were others, too—Noah counted five more people inside the circular walls of the small space that made up the second floor of the lighthouse. Everyone was possessed save for Mary.
Tam stood off to one side, her arms crossed, gaze scanning the dingy area, which was cluttered with rotting crates and tools and electric cables and plastic gallons. The revolving light spun overhead, making everyone’s shadows dance even though they were standing still. Daniel—or rather, the demon possessing Daniel—was speaking to another demon in the same strange language Mary used when she read from the nameless book that opened up the gate. They sounded completely at ease, to the point where it gave off an air of cockiness. It was as if they were patiently awaiting something.
And that was when Noah realized with a jolt that Mary was passed out on the chair, her head lolling forwards along with her curtain of brown hair. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t conclude much else about her condition—but he guessed she’d gotten knocked out and dragged over here, most likely by the imposter demon in Tam’s body.
Noah swallowed, his heart doing something funny in his chest again. This was worse than he ever could have imagined. He’d never seen so many demons in one area at one time, not even when Mary first opened up the gate and a whole herd flew out of his grave. Everyone here was on much higher alert than the demons downstairs; these eyes wandered about suspiciously, searching for any sign of trouble. And by trouble, they probably more precisely were searching for Noah. They knew he’d come to rescue Mary. He wasn’t sure if they were counting on it, if this was just one big, elaborate plan to trap Noah by using Mary as bait--because after all, they’d made it sufficiently clear that they wanted him out of the way, even if there wasn’t much they could do in permanent terms to achieve that.
Either way, Noah was ready to take the bait. He just needed to find a way to get Mary and Tam out of there unharmed; then the demons could do to him what they pleased. But how was he going to do that? He was severely outnumbered, and he didn’t have much in terms of weaponry except his bursts of invisible force. And even though he’d gotten pretty strong at using that power, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to take on that many demons at one time. He needed help.
A name immediately sprung to Noah’s mind with so much fervor that it momentarily put him off. He hardly took a moment to consider it, though, instead casting his mind about in search for a better alternative.
But really, who else was there? Margaret? She’d never fought a demon before; Avery probably had more strength than the older woman did. And as for Avery herself, there’s no way he’d put a little girl through this terror. Facing demons was frightening stuff. No; Avery was out of the question. And without Tam as an option, that only left the same person who had popped up in Noah’s head from the get go. With wary reluctance, Noah forced himself to admit that if there was anyone willing to help Mary as much as he was, it was Mason. With an internal sigh, Noah fled from the Lighthouse, picked up Avery, and together the pair sped away to go find her brother.
†††
Mason didn’t usually invite girls back to his place. He’d always considered his home a sacred area; his bedroom was probably the only private part of him he wouldn’t let a girl see. The thought of having someone else in his house that wasn’t his family or staff-- invading what was his--actually gave him anxiety. He’d never tell anyone, of course, but that was why he hated throwing parties.
He had to do it though, because, as he’d bluntly explained to Mary that day in the police station forever ago, he needed to keep himself popular and relevant and attractive for the ladies. He needed to bring the girls to him so that he could scope out who might give him the time of day and who wouldn’t.
He needed to do all of that for moments like this.
Mason was making out with Angie—Angela?—R_____ (he knew her last name began with that letter but the way she was kissing him now made it hard to recall the color of the sky, let alone a name). Amy was one of the rare cases that Mason had made an exception for, taking their hook up to his bedroom instead of hers (or his car, or the beach, etc.). It wasn’t that there was anything particularly special about Ava—although there was no mistaking she was definitely one of the more attractive females he’d been with. The simple fact had been that Mason was bored and alone and horny, and his parents had grounded him for breaking into a museum so he couldn’t leave the house. Even though they were hardly around to enforce their punishment, Mason didn’t feel keen to take the risk of them coming home and not finding him there. And so Arianna had winded up being the solution to one of his problems, and his bedroom had been the answer to the other.
Things were starting to get heated (the word “heated” implying a severe lack of clothing and a whole lot of neck biting) when Mason started hearing noises. The window shades danced and scraped against one another as if his bedroom window was open, allowing the gales of the ocean inside. But Mason’s window was closed and locked, just like his door. He attributed these sudden movements to the air conditioning of his house and focused his thoughts back on running his fingers down Aly’s curves.
Then he heard a thump that made him start and pull away from her. She knitted her eyebrows together, her hands tugging at the back of his head, drawing him near again.
“What is it?”
The shape of her lips practically begged him to kiss them. “Nothing,” he murmured with a smirk, then brought their mouths together.
Not five seconds later, Mason was hit in the head by a pencil.
“What the—?” he exclaimed as he pulled away again. He swiveled around, scanning his bedroom for any sign of life. Pencils did not just land on people’s heads without a proper explanation; that was for certain.
“Mason.” Amaryllis’ voice was a mix between a whine and a moan. She tugged on his boxers, which really wasn’t doing much to his concentration. “Come back. What’s wrong?”
Mason’s gaze landed back on the pencil after fully assessing there was nothing out of the ordinary lurking in his dark bedroom. The yellow, slender stick of wood was now on the floor, having bounced off Mason’s head and landing beside the bed with a clatter. His eyes widened when it twitched, and then it started rolling, rolling back to his desk until it leapt up like a frog and began writing on a neon post-it note he had in a stack beside his laptop.
He knew this was no magic trick, nor was it some dark sorcery. Although he really wished it had been one of those, considering the other, more plausible possibility. His sister’s ghost couldn’t manipulate objects as if she had them hooked on a string to her fingers. This was someone far more practiced.
Noah.
“Cockblocker,” Mason declared in a low mutter, glancing longingly at Amanda with her lacy bra and slim, practically nonexistent panties.
“What are you talking about, Mason?” She sounded thoroughly irritated now. Mason didn’t bother with an explanation, just sighed deeply and swung off from over her. He got out of the bed, padding over to his desk. He placed his hands on it and peered down at the scribbly handwritten note Noah had left him, squinting against the darkness and the terrible script.
“Geez, Noah,” Mason muttered. “What’s up with this kindergarten handwriting? Is this someone else trying to get a hold of me? My sister, perhaps?”
Mason’s rolling chair suddenly sprung to life, running over Mason’s toe.
“Ow,” he hissed with a wince. Yep. That was definitely Noah. Mason trained his gaze back on the note, and once he got past the words’ appearance, he was able to focus on the content.
Demons have Mary, need back up
Lighthouse Point
Talk about a total mood killer. All that lust Mason had felt over Alyssa a few moments ago vanished, wiped clean from his mind. He couldn’t even feel the pain in his toe, couldn’t draw up the annoyance he’d had for Noah before. Instead a cold feeling of dread and nerves replaced everything else, taking over his mind and body. Mason didn’t even realize he was moving until Alecia spoke up.
“Wait—why are you putting your clothes back on?” Her pouty face was a mix of confusion and annoyance as she gazed at Mason from atop the covers of his bed, looking like a three-course meal on a silver platter, waiting to be tasted. Mason couldn’t find it in him to care.
“I have to go,” he said quickly as he tied his belt around his jeans. “I forgot I have to do something.”
“Do something?” Allisson inquired incredulously. Mason leaned over her and reached for his t-shirt, and she took the opportunity to clasp his face in her hands and kiss him. It was a very good kiss, but Mason couldn’t fall into it; his mind was already at Lighthouse Point. “You’re supposed to do me,” she mumbled against his lips.
He pulled away from her, grabbing her wrists to keep her hands away from latching onto him again. Now it was his turn to feel irritated. “Rain check. Sorry, babe.”
He tugged his shirt on and ran out the door of the room, calling over his shoulder, “Oh, and—I suggest you leave now before my parents get here. Trust me; you’ll be doing us both a favor.” He winked. “See you around, Alexandra.”
“It’s Amelia!” she called back. But Mason didn’t hear her. He was already gone like the wind.
†††
Mary awoke to a sharp pain in the side of her skull. She winced and peeled her eyelids open, her vision focusing to reveal a rather confusing scene.
Daniel stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side. His bright blue eyes glittered with keen interest and a hint of amusement. Once her lagging mind reminded her of the danger he posed, her heart lurched, beating frantically against her ribs. She moved her sore neck around to drink in the remainder of her surroundings, her memory slowly returning to her. Mary saw Tam standing off to one side of the circular room, a glazed, dead look in her eyes. An occasional light would shine upon her features before scanning around the rest of the rounded walls, completing a series of revolutions that struck Mary as familiar. Around her more people milled around, some standing stoically like Tam was and others conversing in low murmurs and indecipherable languages.
Confusion gripped her. Confusion and fear and anxiety. The effect of her pills seemed to have worn off with the hit she took to the head—courtesy of Tam, or rather, the demon possessing Tam—, allowing her to fully experience the full brunt of her emotions.
“What…?” she whispered hoarsely, furrowing her brows. Her gaze wandered over stacks of old crates and a rusty anchor and a pile of rope, immersed in shadows. She met Daniel’s eyes again. “Where am I?”
“Does it matter?” the demon inquired, and his voice was exactly like Daniel’s, smooth and light. “The point is that you fell for our trick so easily it’s a testament to your stupidity.” He peered down at her with indignation, yet a smile crept up his lips. It made Mary tremble. “And now we have you right where we want you.”
“W-what do you want?” she demanded. “You couldn’t have gone through all of this trouble of dragging me here and tying me to this chair if you just wanted me dead.”
“Believe me, we want you dead,” he replied. “But it’s much more complicated than that. You represent a bit of a conundrum for us, Mary Durward. We’ve warned you to stop meddling in our affairs, we’ve attempted to get rid of your accomplices—minus Harrison Salazar, but that’s simply because he hides himself in his protective trailer while you do his dirty work. He’s a coward, that one.” He shook his head, momentarily irritated. “My point, however,” the demon continued, “is that your profound stupidity has kept you from heeding to our warnings.”
He stepped closer to her, and Mary instinctively flinched away—not that it helped, considering her body was tied tightly with a combination of rope and tape, wrapped around her chest and tying her arms to the back of her chair. More rope strapped her legs and thighs to the chair, making even kicking out impossibly difficult.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he murmured, his breath hitting her face. “My brothers and sisters and I are going to conduct an interrogation. You’re going to tell us everything you’ve learned so far about closing the gate. If you don’t comply, we’ll utilize matters that will get you to talk.” His eyes flashed dangerously, an evil smile splitting his face. “It will be very fun for us, so by all means, continue to tap into that stubbornness that compliments your idiocy. We won’t kill you, just torture you enough that you become a drooling, mindless shell of the girl you are now.” He muttered in her ear, “If you ask me, it seems you’ve been on the road to that state for quite a while now. And at the end of all of this, if we’re satisfied with our results… we won’t set you on fire.”
Mary froze, her lips parting. “W-what?”
In response Daniel looked at something to his right. Mary followed his gaze, looking past the possessed individuals staring at her to witness a pile of familiar looking objects lining the rounded walls, settled between the crates and other miscellaneous things. Mary sucked in a breath, surprised she hadn’t noticed them before.
Gallons of gasoline.
They were empty, or at least most of them were. The floor was slick with the substance, shining in the light cast by the revolving glow overhead. Her shoes slid against the gas when she moved her feet. She could smell it, suddenly; the pungent scent hit her like a slap in the face. It was suffocating. Mary’s chest constricted with the kind of sensation she’d learned to associate with a panic attack. Her lips began trembling, as did her hands, which became moist with sweat.
How was she going to get herself out of this one? She had no idea what time it was, but judging by the dark tint to the foggy windows she guessed it was sometime in the evening. Noah should have been back by now—and if he read the note she left for him he probably already knew something wasn’t right since neither she nor Tam were at Tam’s place. But there was no way for him to know she was here, in what she realized was at the very top of Lighthouse Point, where the guide light was located. She and Noah had only been here once, and that was about two years ago. This wouldn’t be the first place he’d look, which meant he might wind up being too late.
Daniel said something in a foreign language and suddenly the entire room stirred with the movements of the possessed individuals occupying it. They edged over to where Mary sat, ringing around her with solemn expressions.
“Let’s begin,” he said.
Mary realized that for the first time she was completely on her own. Nobody was here to help her, to rescue her from danger. It both terrified her and awoke a part of her that for the most part remained dormant—a steely determination to fight back, a drive to live, a flare of anger at the demons for continuously putting her through hell.
She inhaled a calming, shaky breath and lifted her chin, a plan already forming in her head. She might not get out of this in one piece, but she was going to get out. Or die trying.
†††
Mason had absolutely no idea how to use any of Tamara’s ghost hunting equipment, save for the mini infrared camera Mary had made him use at Marina Harbor. After a quick stop at Tamara’s house for both her things and the demon fighting stuff Mary had left behind, he, Noah and Avery made their way to the old, worn lighthouse by the shore. Noah had assured him that the vast majority of the demons were possessing someone’s body, so he would have no problem seeing them—thus Tam’s equipment was unnecessary. But Mason wasn’t really concerned about that, nor was he worried about fighting the demons—he had the glove that undid possessions and some holy water and the salt gun he’d used the other day. Plus, he would have Noah’s help. Avery was going to stay in the car.
The real cause for his concern was Mary. How was he going to get her out of that lighthouse and fight off a bunch of demons? Noah said he had a plan—he’d try and see if he could possess Tam and tie Mary free once they reached the second floor. But the plan was based solely off chance and hope; Noah had no idea if he could even do such a thing as possess another person’s body, and they didn’t have any time now to try.
They reached Lighthouse Point at lighting speed. Noah instantly disappeared to go check on Mary, and when he reappeared his eyes were wide, filled with a fear that made Mason grow cold.
“They’re hurting her,” he said frantically, catching his eye on the mirror. “They’re—they’re doing something to her head. She doesn’t want to answer their questions so they’re chanting in some satanic language that allows them to mess with her mind.” As if on cue, the faint sound of a scream emanated from the lighthouse, sounding miles away.
That was all the push Mason needed. He shook off his shock and horror, keeping a level head as he made his way to the lighthouse’s entrance. The first two guards were easy to take out, mainly because Noah and Mason had the element of surprise. Soon they were just a crumpled pair of people, passed out on the ground.
Mason used the infrared camera and the gun to defeat the two demons lurking on the first floor of the lighthouse. It was difficult to aim with one hand, and it wasn’t like he had much experience with guns in the past. But Noah picked up the slack, managing to blast them both away after a few moments of struggling. This battle caught the attention of a possessed individual on the narrow, winding staircase that led to the second floor. Mason stuffed the camera back into Tamara’s backpack and went back to using the glove fitted into his hand along with the holy water. His footsteps clanged against the metal underfoot as he climbed up the steps, dodging the swing of a bat. Mason was momentarily thankful the demon didn’t have a gun.
Meanwhile Noah took on another possessed person further up in the staircase, this one female. He hadn’t been joking when he said this lighthouse was crawling with evil. Mason pressed his gloved hand against the chest of the middle-aged man he’d been fighting and a jolt ran through his body, followed by a faded, disembodied scream that sounded rather eerie. Then the man collapsed to the ground.
Mason was just stepping over the man’s body when another scream shot through his ears, this one much louder and raw with pain. It was female, echoing around the walls of the lighthouse, coming from up above. Mary.
He didn’t have much time to feel much of anything because soon three more possessed individuals came stomping downstairs, fury and hunger written all over their faces. Mason saw a blast of wind, heard a faint roar, and knew instantly that it was Noah attacking. They flinched and paused; one of them couldn’t take the impact and left its host’s body. The unconscious individual—a young teenage boy—tumbled down the flight of stairs, coming to a stop when it hit the legs of one of the other demons going after Noah.
Mason had been so caught up in what was happening that he didn’t see the woman Noah had been fighting swing her knife. A flash of silver caught his eye and he managed to avoid being stabbed by jumping backwards, against the railing. He did so with so much startled force that he went over, and for a moment he was completely airborne before his fingers latched onto the metal railing, gripping it for dear life. Several feet below him was the shadowy first floor. He tried to hoist himself back up, flexing the muscles on his arms—but then he froze when the demon approached, the same knife twirling in her hand. A triumphant smile sat upon her lips.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you get back up here,” she told him sweetly. Her red eyes ducked down to his fingers, sweaty and white from the effort of holding on. “I’ll have to… cut you loose.”
Mason felt momentarily fearful at the implication. Then he just became angry. “Go to Hell,” he growled at her. He decided to do something risky, releasing the hold his gloved right hand had on the railing. The woman was just about to slam down the knife and cut off his fingers when he used every bit of strength he had to launch him over the railing, enough for his gloved hand to make contact with her chest.
Except it didn’t. She stepped away just in time, her knife going down and slicing his forearm instead. Thankfully the edge just grazed his skin, although blood oozed from the burning cut. The woman was then hit by a burst of force, this one weaker than the ones he was used to Noah creating, but it did the job. Soon it was all over.
Mason plopped back onto the staircase, breathing heavily. Flexing his numb fingers, he peered over at the upward slope of steps and saw that everyone else who had been storming down had been defeated already, lying limply on the ground.
“You sure you needed my help, Noah?” he gasped out, getting to his feet and wiping sweat off his brow. He had no idea where the boy was, but he assumed he was close by. “That was kind of a weak blow, by the way. I mean, it did the job, but you hit like a girl. Like my little sister, actually.”
Another scream, this one somehow sounding worse than the last, banged around the lighthouse almost eerily. Mason froze only for a moment before he rushed the remainder of the way to the second floor, taking on two steps at a time as he climbed. When he arrived, he immediately caught sight of Tamara, Daniel—what the hell?—, a possessed stranger, and a sobbing Mary.
“Ah, look who has finally decided to show up.” It was Daniel speaking, yet the twisted up face and nasty edge to his voice suggested otherwise. He was gazing at the space beside Mason, most likely at Noah. “I was wondering when you’d get here. I’m surprised you managed to get through all that security. I must admit I’m impressed.”
“Let her go,” Mason demanded between breaths.
“Not until she answers my questions,” he replied, sliding his attention back to the girl rocking back and forth on the chair in front of him. “She’s irritatingly stubborn, this one. We’ve tried mental torture, but she won’t crack.” His blue eyes, void of any life, snapped up abruptly at something Mason assumed Noah was doing—or saying.
And that was when Mary took the chance to attack. Mason saw it coming, because his eyes never tore away from her, but Daniel didn’t. She managed to get to her feet and swing the chair that was tied to her back. The tape and rope loosened. It hit Daniel cleanly in the side, but the boy did nothing but move a little and look at her with a mix of amusement and surprise.
He smiled. “Do you actually think—ahh!” he suddenly screamed, clutching his face. Mary had gotten free of her ties and squirted him with what looked like a mini can of pepper spray—except it wasn’t pepper spray, it was holy water. She had used his momentary state of distraction to reach into her jeans pocket and pull it out.
Before she could attack again, though, the demon possessing Daniel forced her back onto the chair while simultaneously slamming Mason against the wall with a sudden brute, invisible force.
“You think you’re so tough,” he growled, his voice now deeper, more demonic. It gave Mason the chills. “You are nothing. Nothing but a mortal human being.” He stepped closer to Mary as she writhed and squirmed, trying to break free of his hold. He gripped her neck. “I can snap you like a twig in the blink of an eye.” He was so furious he was shaking; his teeth were clenched tightly, his eyes glowing a feral red. All Mary’s previous determination fled her face, replaced by naked terror.
Daniel’s gaze dipped down to where his hands were wrapped around her neck—not squeezing, just holding it in his fingers. Then his expression changed. Mason would even go as far as to say that it softened, the anger draining away, replaced by a sly smirk and glinting, secretive eyes. Somehow this new knowing look was worse than the anger, because with the latter, Mason could at least guess what the psychotic demon was thinking.
“You know,” he said slowly, “being inside this boy here has given me access to his thoughts, his memories, his… desires.” The hand that was wrapped around Mary’s neck loosened, his fingers creeping down towards her chest, trailing over her skin and collarbones. Mason struggled to break free, suddenly realizing what it was the demon was insinuating. Mary must have realized it, too, because her blue eyes widened, the color draining from her face. “I know how to get what I want. There is no worse torture than this.”
He swiftly sat down on her lap so that he was straddling her, and Mary struggled to get as far from him as possible, her muscles visibly straining with the effort. It was no use, though. Just like Mason, she couldn’t even move her hands. This demon was much more powerful than any other they’d encountered before. And he was about to do something to her that would scar her for life.
†††
“No,” Mary whispered, tears threatening to fall again. Her pulse throbbed in her throat, her head ached with whatever they had been doing to her before Noah, Mason and Avery had come bursting in. “No. Please don’t. Please.”
She knew begging would get her nowhere, but the level of desperation she now felt was at an all-time high. Past memories threatened to pull her under—memories of Daniel that had traumatized her, led her to live in fear of his presence, to see his face in her nightmares. And although she knew now the person pulling her trenchcoat aside and unbuttoning her blouse was not him, it might as well have been. She dared a glance over to where she’d last seen Noah, Mason, and Avery when they’d first arrived. Noah was gone, and Tamara was on the floor, convulsing, her eyelids twitching. Mason was doing everything in his power to break free of the demon’s invisible chains, his horrified eyes never wavering from where Mary and Daniel were. And Avery stood before him in concern, trying to help him get loose.
The demon possessing Daniel caught her eye, the same hungry look in them she’d seen in the past. The red color in them had faded away, now replaced by its usual deep blue. This could have been Daniel; there was no difference. She felt his lips on her neck, and that alone was enough to make her want to vomit, to burst into tears. He trailed kisses down her chest, over her breasts, sloppy and wet. Mary was gasping and shaking, her chest heaving with panic; her eyes were squeezed tightly shut to both stifle the tears and to keep her from seeing what she was feeling. Instead she tried to imagine something good, something that made her happy; she tried to focus less on the hands greedily exploring her waist and stomach and back, undoing the button of her jeans. She knew it was foolish, to try and escape reality like this, but she was so desperate and frightened that she thought it would make it easier, to treat his lips on her stomach as if it were a needle piercing her skin at the doctor’s, something terrible that would be over soon.
And then it was over. Suddenly she felt a weight leave her, and she regained control of her hands and legs. Mary’s eyes snapped open when she heard a cry and a thump. Daniel had been knocked to the floor by Tamara, the lid of a crate gripped in her hands, now split in two. She looked absolutely furious, to the point that it made Mary uneasy. Her nostrils flared; her eyes held a wild look that reminded her of Noah when he experienced his sudden fierce bursts of anger.
And in speaking of Noah—where was he? She looked and saw that little Avery was trying to console her brother, who was now gasping on his hands and knees, meeting Mary’s eyes momentarily before his attention was caught by the scuffle transpiring beside her.
Tamara was kicking Daniel repeatedly in the stomach, in the groin, in the knees—even twice in the face. Meanwhile he was laughing hysterically, blood oozing down his nose and flooding onto his teeth, tainting their perfectly white color with a smear of red and pink.
“Tam, stop!” Mary cried, horrified. “That’s not Daniel! There’s a demon possessing him; he can’t feel any pain. You’re only hurting Daniel’s body!”
“Same difference,” Tam growled, not ceasing her horrifying stream of attacks. “How dare you touch her---how dare you?”
Mary stilled. That sounded a lot like something Noah would say; not Tam. Her eyes widened. No way. It couldn’t be possible… could it?
Before Mary could voice her thoughts, everything burst into flames.
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A/N-As usualy sorry for the grammar mistakes this is really unedited because I just rushed straight into the next chapter (it's about 1/4th of the way done yay). I know I promised romance and I don't think Mason and that girl count and neither do Mary and Daniel (ew) so I'll give you guys the next chapter title as an apology: "Desire Burns like Fire" ;) ;) :) Thoughts and comments on this chapter are welcomed and encouraged! Ok I'm going back to writing now next update should be tomorrow or Thursday :)