by Sam Short
Another shout carrying towards her from the dunes, Millie hurried towards her cottage, realising that the beams of light in the dunes were the headlights of a vehicle. The metal chariot which Lillieth had said she’d seen.
The box shape of the vehicle breaking the skyline, she recognised it as the campervan which she’d witnessed the alien hunters leave in. They must have come back, and judging by another angry yell which reached her on the breeze, Millie surmised they weren’t happy.
Moving with as much speed as her legs would allow, Millie struggled through the soft sand at the top of the beach as she neared the edge of the dunes, slowing her approach as yet more voices penetrated the night.
Two voices — or was it three, carried on the wind, and the twin beams of light emitted by the campervan’s headlights flickered briefly as people moved across their path. Millie stood still as she heard another shout. A female voice, and it sounded panicked. Judith.
Peering into the shadows, Millie gave a shout. “What’s happening?” she yelled.
Her answer came in the form of a man’s shout. No. Not a shout. A scream. A scream which sent icy chills along her spine.
Then a familiar voice, urgent. “He’s heading in your direction, Millie!” shouted Sergeant Spencer. “Run, Millie! He’s dangerous!”
Who was coming? Who was dangerous? Millie gazed into the long shadows created by the sand dunes, certain she had seen movement. Quick movement. Movement which suggested that somebody was coming toward her with speed.
She took a step backwards, her legs still unsteady beneath her, and let out a short scream of shock as the shadows appeared to part like curtains, and a man lunged at her from the darkness, a gurgling shout beginning to form on his snarling lips as he sped at Millie.
“Watch out, Millie!” came Sergeant Spencer’s voice from the darkness. “He’s possessed by a demon! He’s strong!”
Millie recognised the lumbering man as Peter Simmons — or Mister Incognito, as she’d become accustomed to referring to him as. His face a mask of anger — made more hideous by the moonlight which glinted in his eyes, the wild man emitted a blood-curdling scream, his appearance a world away from the gentle demeanour he’d displayed over the last few days.
Attempting to step out of his way, her legs stiff, Millie faltered, stumbling as Peter Simmons threw himself at her, his eyes wide and his teeth bared. Putting a hand out to cushion her fall, Millie rolled to the side, a second too late to avoid the bone-crunching collision of the possessed man’s attack.
Winded, and with Peter’s hands clawing at her face and neck, Millie could do little to help herself as she gasped for breath, aware of a shouting voice carrying on the wind. “Millie!” yelled Sergeant Spencer. “Are you okay? I’m coming!”
Scrambling in the sand, her legs kicking at empty air, Millie put a hand on Peter’s face as he straddled her midriff and found her neck with both of his hands, tightening his grip as Millie searched for his eyes with her fingers, struggling to breathe as Peter strangled her.
Her panic rising, Millie moved her attack from Peter’s face, to his hands, digging her nails deep into his flesh, her attempts to inflict pain having no effect on her deranged attacker. She concentrated on the space behind her breastbone, searching within herself for her magic, knowing she needed to be calmer if she was to access it, but acutely aware that she could barely breathe.
Pain searing through her throat, and Peter’s weight crushing her chest, Millie wondered for the third time that night if she was about to die. Her heartbeat thudding in her ears, and Peter’s enraged scream adding to her fear, she dug her nails deeper into the backs of his hands, silently urging Sergeant Spencer to hurry, aware that time was passing more slowly than it seemed to be, and knowing that she couldn’t rely on help reaching her before she lost consciousness.
Her neck muscles straining, Millie closed her eyes, ignoring the pain and the rabid scream of the man who was attempting to kill her. Hearing those words in her mind, Millie’s rage rose. Nobody was going to kill her. Not like this. She would not die in the sand — with the ingredient she needed to cast the spell which might enable her to speak to her mother in her pocket. Not today. Not on any day.
“I’m coming!” yelled Sergeant Spencer, his voice closer, but not near enough.
Her throat burning, Millie searched for the ball of magic within her, willing it to appear. Forcing it to blossom. Dragging it forcefully into her chest, where it simmered, gaining strength as she concentrated on being calm.
She opened her eyes, anger boiling in her veins, the burning ball behind her ribs urging her to release it, like an attack dog straining at a leash. As her vision blurred, and dizziness threatened to render her helpless, Millie released her magic, not knowing what form it would take, but aware that the spell she’d cast would be vengeful.
The beach vibrated beneath Millie’s back, as if an earthquake was in progress, and she released her grip on Peter’s hands as sand erupted around her in a violent explosion which rattled through her body. Peter’s hands relaxed on her throat, and his scream ended abruptly as a thick tentacle, formed from sand, snaked across his body and wrapped itself around his throat.
No longer concerned with strangling Millie, Peter clawed at the tentacle, his eyes bulging and his breathing ragged. His body tensed, and he wriggled from side to side as another tentacle joined the first, wrapping Peter in strong loops of sand which dragged him from on top of Millie and pinned him to the beach. Staring at the night sky, Peter kicked at more tendrils which grew from the sand, forming writhing coils which slid over the man’s body and held him still.
Millie got to her feet, her hands on her throat as she gasped for air, spitting sand from her mouth. Her legs trembling, she concentrated on the spell she’d cast, willing whatever monster she’d created to spare Peter’s life. The tentacles of sand responded quickly to her commands, loosening their grasp on Peter, allowing him to breathe, but holding him captive. Millie gazed down at the man, her throat sore as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Peter,” she said. “I know you didn’t do this to me. I’ll get the demon out of you, I promise.”
Millie looked up as Sergeant Spencer approached, limping as he hurried towards her. “Are you alright?” he said, ignoring the monster Millie’s magic had created, and placing a hand on each of her shoulders, staring at her with concern. “What did he do to you?”
“I’ll be okay,” said Millie. “I’m just a little bruised. It’s nothing that a magic potion won’t be able to help.”
Sergeant Spencer nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here quicker. The demon — Peter, I mean, took us by surprise. Judith’s hurt and —”
“Judith?” said Millie. “What did he do to her? Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” said Sergeant Spencer. “She’s had the wind knocked out of her. She didn’t have time to use magic. It all happened so fast.” He glanced at the struggling man, imprisoned by sand. “It seems you managed to use your magic.”
With little time to spare. “Yes,” said Millie. “I’m not sure how long the spell will hold, though.”
Sergeant Spencer slipped his handcuffs from his belt. “These will hold him. He doesn’t have superhuman strength, he’s just very, very angry. I’ll get him cuffed, and we’ll lock him in the cottage. I’ll get in touch with Henry. He’ll know what to do with him.”
Millie nodded, her throat aching. “What happened?” she said. “Why does Mister Incognito have a demon inside him?”
Sergeant Spencer crouched beside Peter. “Let’s get him safely locked away in your cottage, and then we’ll discuss what happened.”
Chapter 18
After Sergeant Spencer had secured Peter to the cast-iron rail which ran along the base of Millie's stone fireplace, he checked the handcuffs were tight, took the piece of thick sticky tape Millie offered him, and placed it over Peter's mouth. "There," he said. "He's still subdued after his struggle with the spell you cast, Millie. It won't be long until he's reg
ained his energy, though."
"What's happening, Sergeant?" said Graham Spalding, his hands trembling as he lowered himself onto the sofa.
Sergeant Spencer ignored him, taking his phone from his pocket and typing out a quick message. "There," he said. "I've just told Henry what’s happened. He shouldn't be long."
A whip crack echoed through the cottage, and Henry appeared next to the fireplace in a brief explosion of light, dressed impeccably in a tartan three-piece suit. He gazed around the room, his spectacles reflecting Graham’s startled face. "I came as soon as I received Sergeant Spencer's message," he said.
"We noticed," said Judith, her hands on her ribs.
"Are you sure I can't get you something for that?" said Millie. "I can make a potion which will take the pain away."
Judith shook her head. "No. I told you. I’m fine — it's my pride that hurts the most. I couldn't use my magic in time. I couldn't do anything to stop him, and then he attacked my father."
Sergeant Spencer put an arm around his daughter. "It's only my leg. I twisted my knee when I fell. I'll be as right as rain by tomorrow."
"It was only because Millie shouted that the demon’s attention was drawn away from you, Dad," said Judith. "It could have been so much worse. I'm sorry."
"Nobody's got anything to be sorry for," said Millie.
Graham Spalding looked up from the sofa. "A man just appeared out of thin air. Will somebody please tell me what's happening. Have I gone mad?"
"Why don't you tell us what happened, Graham?" said Sergeant Spencer. "We saw you leave. Why did you decide to come back?"
His face white, Graham shook his head. "It wasn't my decision," he said. "It was Peters. I had no control over him. He's normally very calm and collected, but since his accident, he's become infatuated with the scientific equipment he owns. He’s very protective of it. We were almost back at his house when he realised we'd left his forensic tent behind — covering the skeleton in the dunes. I told him we’d come back for it another day, but he lost his temper. He almost caused us to crash when he grabbed the steering wheel from my hands. He made me pull over and forced me to let him drive, and then he sped all the way back here."
"Where he crashed into the sand dunes," said Sergeant Spencer. “And touched the skeleton. Judith and I saw the flash of light from inside the tent when we rushed out of the cottage to see what was happening.”
"Yes," said Graham. "And him crashing into the dunes was a good thing, as far as I'm concerned. I don't think I could have taken another ten seconds of his driving. It was terrifying. As soon as he’d crashed, he leapt out of the van and headed for his tent. I followed him, trying to calm him down. He was having none of it, though, but when he saw his tent, he cheered up, and went inside. I could hear the Sergeant shouting by then, and realised he was probably going to arrest me — as he’d promised he would. I thought that if I was going to be arrested anyway, I may as well try and take away some evidence of the alien skeleton with me, I took my phone out and used it as a torch, but I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I looked in the hole where the skeleton had been. Most of it had gone! Like it had crumbled to dust."
"But there was some left, wasn't there?" said Henry.
"Yes," said Graham. "But I didn't see it, Peter did. He got to his knees and picked it up — a single tooth, and then it happened — there was a bright flash of light, and Peter turned into…" He pointed at the struggling man chained to the fireplace. "Into that. What happened? Was it the alien? Is the alien inside him, controlling him? With space energy? His eyes look a bit mad! Will his skin turn blue?”
“Your friend is possessed,” said Henry. “But not by an alien. By a demon.”
“A demon?” said Graham. “Demons don’t exist!”
“Not in this dimension,” said Henry. He looked at Peter. “Or at least they shouldn’t. The demon inside your friend sneaked into our dimension, along with a second one, and the other one is responsible for the death of a man.”
“Demons?” said Graham. “Other dimensions?” He shook his head. “Then Peter was right. Other dimensions do exist.”
“At least one other. And the creatures that live in it are worse than anything your imagination could possibly conjure up,” said Reuben.
Graham’s draw dropped open. “The bird spoke. The bird spoke,” he muttered.
"I can see why you'd think a demon was responsible for Tom's murder, Henry," said Millie. "Look at his eyes."
Peter shook his arms violently, the handcuffs clanking against the iron rail. His bloodshot eyes opened wide as he struggled, and the sticky tape across his mouth transformed his attempts at shouting into muffled grunts.
"He's in the early stages of possession," said Henry. "It won't take long until the demon has full control of the unfortunate gentleman, and at that stage of the process, it becomes very hard to know when a person is possessed, from outward appearances alone."
Graham made a grunting sound, his face white. "What will happen to Peter?" he said. "Is it possible to get the... demon out of him?"
Henry nodded. "Oh yes," he said. "I can get the demon out of him. That’s simple."
Graham frowned. "Well?" he said. "Would you mind getting it out of him? As soon as possible?"
Henry approached Peter, and stared down at him. "Not yet," he said. "I'll remove the demon from him after I've used him as bait to catch the second demon. The one which killed Tom Temples."
"Bait?" said Judith, rubbing her ribs. "How will that work?"
Reuben flew from the sofa and landed on Millie's shoulder. "Because demons belong in pairs," he said. "Isn't that right, Henry?"
"Yes," said Henry. "It is. And when the other demon becomes aware that its partner is still alive, and not lying dead in the sand, it will come for it. And then we can remove the evil entities from both Peter and whoever the poor person is who was forced to kill Tom Temples by their unwelcome parasite."
Graham frowned. "Bait?" he said. "Is that safe? For Peter?”
"It’s perfectly safe," said Henry. "We'll wait for dawn — so we have light, and then take Peter outside, make sure he’s firmly secured, and remove the tape from his mouth. The sounds he'll make will attract the other demon, and then we just have to wait for it to arrive. And catch it. We’ll have to be careful, though. The other demon has already killed Tom Temples, we don’t want another death in Spellbinder Bay.”
Chapter 19
It felt strange to be making coffee as a man possessed by a demon struggled at the handcuffs that held him captive in her living room, but everybody appreciated Millie’s gesture, and even Graham Spalding’s face regained some of its colour as he sipped his drink.
As Millie stared out of the patio doors at the ocean, the sun beginning to peek over the horizon and paint the waves in soft orange, Reuben landed gently on her shoulder. “Did you get it?” he whispered.
Millie smiled. “I got the pearl, Reuben.”
“There!” he said, quietly. “I knew it would be easy!”
“Yes,” said Millie, shuddering as she recalled cold seawater flooding her throat. “It was easy.”
“Okay everybody!” said Henry, from behind her. “Dawn has arrived. It’s time to catch the creature which killed Tom Temples, and return normality to Spellbinder Bay.” He winked in Millie’s direction. “As much normality as we’re used to, anyway.”
Peter Simmons struggled as Sergeant Spencer wrapped his wrists in tape and removing the handcuffs, replacing them on his wrists when he was free of the fireplace. “If you can hear me in there, Peter,” he said. “Try and remain calm. We’ll get the creature out of you as soon as possible.”
“I doubt he can hear you,” said Henry. “It would take great strength to remain aware of oneself while possessed by such a malevolent entity.”
“Poor Peter,” said Millie.
Henry opened the cottage door. “Well, come on them, all of you. The sooner we catch the other one, the sooner Peter may have his body returned to
him.”
As Sergeant Spencer struggled to control Peter, Graham came to his aid. “Let me help you,” he said, grabbing his friend under his arm, and helping the policeman guide him towards the open door. “I can’t help feeling that some of this is my fault.”
“Oh, really?” said Sergeant Spencer. “Just some of it?”
“To be fair, Dad,” said Judith, “it’s not really his fault, is it? The two demons which came into our world must take the blame for everything that’s happened.”
“This world, though?” said Graham, helping Sergeant Spencer push Peter through the door and into the cool morning air. “What is it? I mean this world. Your world — with speaking birds, short men dressed like Scottish lawyers appearing from nowhere and young ladies talking about making potions which can cure injuries? What have I walked into?”
“Not now,” said Sergeant Spencer. “I’m sure Henry will want to speak with you when all of this is over, but until then, why don’t you just focus on what’s important right now — which is catching a killer demon.”
“Of course,” said Graham, stumbling as Peter grunted and attempted to shake off his two escorts. “There’ll be plenty of time for answers.”
“Put him over there,” said Henry, pointing towards the sand dunes. “Handcuff him to the campervan and take the tape off his mouth. If events unfold as I expect them to, we shouldn’t have to wait long for the other demon to make an appearance. Their senses are highly attuned to one another, even when in a human body. The other demon will hear the screams of the creature inside Peter from a long way off, and be drawn to it like a moth to a flame.”
With Reuben still on her shoulder, Millie watched Sergeant Spencer and Graham attach Peter’s handcuffs to the front tow ring of the campervan, and remove the tape from his mouth. As soon as the makeshift gag had been removed, Peter Simmons looked at the sky and gave a long, strangled howl, his body tense as he strained to free himself from the cuffs, the rattling of metal on metal adding a chilling backdrop to his eerie vocals.
