Ed Sheeran's 'Shape of you' plays on her phone and she scrambles to silence it before everyone's attention shifts from the boring sales meeting to her embarrassing ringtone. What 45 year old woman would have that as her ringtone?
She catches a brief glimps of the caller ID and her stomach drops. With trembling fingers she puts the phone inside her purse and taking a deep breath shifts her attention back to the meeting. She thinks that someone's playing an awful prank on her but still tries to think of other, more reasonable explanations for the phone call.
After the meeting, she gets another call from the same person, she ignores it but the calls turn persistent and every time she sees the name of the person calling a tremor passes through her and soon anger takes over at the thoughtlessness of it. Who would do such an insensitive thing?
After work, seething with anger she dials the number. It's one she knew by heart. It was her mother's number.
"Hello." She says, through gritted teeth.
"Gloria? Where are you? I've been trying to reach you!" Her mother's voice comes from the other end. And what she said was something Gloria had heard perhaps a million times before.
"Wh..at?" She sputters before cutting the call. Stumped and beyond angry now she races towards her mother's home.
The house in the dead end of the street sits glumly with only the lights in the upstairs bedroom and the living room on. Not only had someone broken into her dead mother's house, they were calling her from her landline pretending to be her!
She'd already called the police so she walks towards the front door with quick angry strides.
The door is ajar, inside there is silence and her stealthy steps make sound against the marble floor. Further in, the sound of the television on low pulls her towards the upstairs bedroom. With careful steps she reaches the door which is only half closed, peering inside she sees the silhouette of an elderly woman sitting on her mother's rocking chair. Anger quickly paves way for concern and confusion.
Pushing the door open, she walks in.
"Can I help you?Are you ok Aunty ji?"
"Hello? Aunty you are trespassing. Can you tell me where you live?"
The old lady in the rocking chair turns back to face her, and the tv shuts down with a loud pop.
A withered and weary face peers back at her.
"Are you ok?" Gloria repeats.
A low chortling fills the room building into full blown manic laughter. The old woman's face twists in an ugly sneer, making her look devilish. Evil.
"Help me? Am I ok?" The woman says mockingly, twisting and slurring the words as she slowly gets up from her seat.
Before she could form a coherent thought, the woman throws herself at Gloria. A raised knife in hand.
It glints in the dim light.
A single violent scream rings inside the dark old house before silence prevails again.
----------
The distant wail of sirens alerts the demon possessing the old woman's body, slithering out he leaves his temporary shell and plunges into the night in search of another vulnerable body to occupy. Another family to destroy and another soul to misguide and mangle.
The poor woman trembles violently before passing out unaware of the half alive body lying near her feet.
The demon's gleeful laughter echoes in the street causing the neighborhood strays to bark and whine.
