Demons Grasp

Chapter 3

"I think someone just opened the front door," I whisper. Unfortunately, our only way out of the kitchen is through the door leading directly into the living room. Jake pushes the kitchen window open slowly. Then he reaches into his pocket, fishes out his car keys and hands them to me. "MC, I want you to climb out, try to go around the house and get to my car. Get in and drive away.

I want to argue. How could I leave him behind like this? How will he contact me? My phone is lying to charge on the night stand in our bedroom. But one look into his face and I know that there will be no negotiating about this now.

Jake takes a large knife from the sink, where it was lying with the rest of the dishes waiting to be cleaned. He motions to me to get going and then moves towards the door.

I climb through the window and immediately press my back against the wall. For a second I just stand there listening for any sounds. Nothing. I turn right and slowly walk to the next corner. There are no lights to illuminate my path. And there is no chance of spotting anyone waiting for me between the trees. I bump into a stack of firewood and almost lose my balance. The silence out here is eerie. Moving on, I can still not see any signs of anyone else being here. Have we been imagining things? No. We both heard it. I continue to walk slowly.

As I reach the second corner of the house, I see a square of light fall through the front door onto the gravel driveway. Only our two cars are parked there. And I will have to walk right past the door to reach them. I tiptoe further.

Then I hear an unfamiliar voice. "You've led us on quite the wild goose chase all these years. But this ends today, scum. Did you really think you would get away with this? Hiding here, playing house? When I'm done with you, I'll be also taking care of that little girlfriend of yours." I can hear Jake's voice, but can't make out the words.

My heart beats so loud, I am convinced the two men inside can hear it. With my back pressed against the wall right next to the door I am unable to move. What can I do? Run and abandon Jake? Cause a distraction? I remember a flower pot standing on the ground not too far away from me. I pick it up and go a few steps away from the wall. I can barely recognize the black square of the bedroom window. But I have to try. I aim and throw the flower pot, shattering the window. The voices break off and I'm holding my breath. Instead I hear now sounds of a fight. I can only pray that my distraction was enough to give Jake an advantage.

Then there is a soul shattering boom. Was that a gun? Oh, please no. NO!

I run towards the door, forgetting all fear and all caution. I am operating purely on instinct now. What I see inside is like a nightmare come true. Jake is on the floor. He does not move. A stranger stands over him, gun in hand. Without even thinking I run inside and tackle the stranger. The element of surprise is on my side and he is briefly off balance. Somehow, I manage to knock the gun out of his hand. But that was it. The man regains control quickly, grabs me and bends my arm to my back. He pushes me hard against the fireplace. I can feel the skin of my face scrape and break against the rough surface of the bricks. With my only free hand I push against the mantle in an attempt to get away from the heat of the fire.

"Did you really think you could take me on, bitch?" he sneers into my ear. "Maybe I should have some fun with you before making sure that our hacker here never sees the light of day again." Between his body pressing against mine and my panic, it becomes more and more difficult to breathe. My vision begins to blur and my movements become erratic.

Suddenly, my hand closes around something cool. I've managed to grab the poker that Jake left on there earlier. Despite me holding it at an awkward angle and not having enough room to maneuver, I start to swing it behind me with all the ferocity I can still muster in my despair. There! I hit something! I strike again and then there is an inhuman roar.

His grip on me loosens and I turn around, standing on shaky legs. I must have hit his eye with the curved spike at the end of the poker. He has his hand pressed against his eye socket. But I can see blood and something else ooze out from between his fingers.

In an attempt to make the best from his distraction, I look around for the gun. But it is to no avail. As I am taking a step forward, he raises the tool that I had let go of in my surprise, over his head and swings it in my direction. The iron bar hits my temple before I could react. I fall to the floor.

And the last thing I see, before the black is closing in on me, is Jake struggling to get up.