On My Way

by Eve Langlais

  I shifted my stance, bracing myself with the knife out. Maybe I could slice it midair…if I were coordinated.

  “Once again, I could really use a gun,” I muttered.

  Why wasn’t the house doing something? Never mind the craziness of the thought, I’d been coming to terms of late with the fact my cottage was special. Capable of providing all the things I needed. Except the most important, apparently.

  Safety. Why wasn’t the house protecting me anymore? Why did it appear as if it were dying?

  I glanced around as it continued to shudder, and more ugly faces appeared. It was as I let my gaze stray back to the island that I saw the plant inching past. Still growing. A major problem, especially as it glowed a bilious green. It was pulsing, too. Each pumping flex matched a shudder of the house.

  Evil thing.

  The weirdest thought to have. But what if I had gotten it out of the house like I should have days ago? Before I could think twice, I ran from the circle for the glow.

  At first, the gargoyles grinned, their beaks opening wide to show forked tongues. I reached the island before they shrilly cried.

  I grabbed at a rooting tendril of the plant and shuddered as I touched it. Cold and clammy. So gross. And heavy, too. It grew fatter in my grasp, and I dropped it. I’d never be able to carry it outside. I’d have to somehow kill it, but how? Get to its root and stab it? Set it on fire?

  Maybe not fire. It originated from under the sink, which meant stepping on its squishiness as my house groaned.

  The cupboards gaped open, and I could see the mass of the plant pulsing under the sink.

  A gargoyle attacked, and I blindly swung, making it yell. I had to move faster.

  I dove for the garbage can. “Get off of there!” I huffed and pulled at the container my Seymour-ish plant used as a pot. I only managed to spill it onto the floor.

  Which might have been bad if I’d not seen the heart of it. Red instead of green, a strobing, glowing ball inside the oozing plant. It appeared to have no interest in me. It kept stretching out to my house, and where it touched, things turned gray.

  I hacked into the green with my cleaver and got a reaction. An inaudible scream and a gargoyle on my back, yanking on my hair. I lost my grip on the cleaver as I panicked at the newest attack.

  “Get off!” I shrieked. Instinct guided me as I dropped and slammed my back into the island.

  Something cracked on the creature, and it loosened its grip. But I had no time to admire my bravery. I dove for the red heart. I could see it clearly. Snatching it from the oozing flesh, I bounced to my feet and reached for a new knife, which I used to slash. Flesh parted at my stroke, smooth as warm butter. The thing shrieked and spat.

  I ran for the back door and heaved it open. My grip on the heart tight, I threw it outside. It dropped almost immediately to the ground. Something dove from the sky toward it.

  Oh no you don’t.

  I reached it first and stamped down. My foot slid off the plant’s heart. I dropped to a knee and drove the point of my dagger into it.

  Crack!

  The impact tossed me backwards into the doorway of the cottage. I had just enough time to throw myself back as a gargoyle flew past. Before it could wheel around, I turned and scrabbled inside.

  Weaponless. I’d lost my knife. I ran for the front door. I had to reach Betsy.

  The window spilled a body and another. They spread out to cover my escape. I whirled. Behind me more approached.

  The house had stopped shivering, but the situation seemed worse than ever. A creature bigger than the rest entered through the back door I’d left open.

  Imagine a demon from hell, grossly muscled, its limbs exaggerated in size, and somewhat animal like, which truly made its almost human facial characteristics the more frightening. It had long black nubs projecting above its shoulders, possibly indicating wings. Horns on its head. Its skin was pure black. Eyes, too.

  I was so screwed. The only good thing was I’d yet to pee myself. Were the Kegels I’d started doing finally having an effect?

  The demon took its time coming toward me. Its minions crowded behind.

  I needed a weapon.

  The house shuddered.

  The demon flicked its dark gaze at the ceiling. Only a second before fixing on me again.

  “Get thee gone, foul creature, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I channeled the tiny bit of religion I’d learned from movies and books.

  It didn’t even pause, but rather smiled. Frightening considering all of its jagged teeth.

  The demon paused at the edge of the circle. Eyed me. The eyes shifted from dark to a malevolent, glowing orange.

  Definitely from Hell. But of more interest, it hesitated at the edge of the circle. Its minions crowded around it, staying outside of the line. Holy moly it was stopping them!

  For a moment, I thought myself safe.

  Until the demon poked a claw at the invisible line.

  Poked over and over, then I swear it smiled before putting a foot inside.

  17

  Apparently, being terrified does a weird thing to the brain. For instance, mine began humming a song.

  It puts its left foot in, it puts its left foot out, it puts its left foot in and shakes all about. It does the scary jerky, and it turns me inside out, because I’m about to be its lunch.

  Hysterical laughter almost bubbled out of me as the demon placed both feet into the circle with me.

  So screwed. Maybe if I ran for the poker?

  No time. The demon moved fast enough I never saw it coming. Before I could even think of peeing myself, the demon gripped me by the upper arms and lifted me. Grinned as it drew me to his mouth.

  I was about to be eaten.

  You’re a witch. Do something witchy.

  Like what? Abracadabra, turn into a cute little rabbit?

  The house shook just as the demon was about to tear out my throat. It jostled hard enough that the demon paused, seeming uneasy. Could it be scared of my home?

  “I hope my house eats you,” I spat.

  The most inane threat ever, and yet the demon took a step back and his grip on me loosened just the slightest bit. I took advantage and remembered the number one safety rule for girls from the eighties. Kick them in the jewels.

  The demon didn’t have a penis hanging, just a knob. He did have a pair of tight balls, and my knee connected.

  He folded. But he didn’t go gently.

  He bellowed and raked his claws down my arms.

  I screamed at the sharp pain and buckled as he released me. I hit the floor and fell to my side, a palm barely managing to keep me from face planting. Blood rolled down my arm in a warm red rivulet. It raced past my wrists and pooled between my fingers where they palmed the floor. It sank into the grain of the wood. I’d never get the stain out. Especially since the floor absorbed it like a sponge. It inhaled my blood. Slurped that stuff up, leaving no mark behind.

  The house shivered.

  The demon recovered and stood, a menacing form that loomed.

  If only I had… The palm braced on the floor suddenly wasn’t flat. I felt something beneath my hand. An object I could grip.

  A gun.

  As the demon leered and swooped in for the kill, I raised that gun and fired.

  Point-blank.

  It should be noted that while I did get that demon in the chest, I also had no idea of the recoil and punched myself in the face.

  As I rolled and gasped at the sharp pain in my nose, there was bellowing. Lots of it. The gargoyle minions hooted.

  I managed to get to my feet and through teary eyes saw the demon lying on the floor, not quite dead. Not yet, but he soon would be considering the little bodies crowding over the hole I’d put in him. Sucking their master dry.

  How gross.

  I raised the gun and held it two handed this time.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” I fired. Bang. Bang. My aim sucked, but luckily, they wer
e closely clustered.

  Problem was shooting them drew their attention from the demon lunch to me. My plan to kill them suddenly backfired as they moved too fast for me to shoot them all. Two of them hit me hard while a third tangled my ankles.

  I hit the floor with a thump and found myself face pressed to the floor. Blood dripped from my mouth. I managed to gasp, “Got anything better than a gun?”

  I coughed and sprayed part of the circle. A piece of the line flashed, and the bodies atop me paused.

  I remembered the floor sucking at the mess I’d made with my blood. I pulled myself to the edge and placed my wet lips on the line and smeared it with a bloody kiss. That section began to glow, and the gargoyle closest to me stumbled away.

  Afraid.

  I had blood rolling down my arm from where the demon had scraped me, and it dripped down my hand and pooled at my fingertips like ink in a pen as I quickly traced the rest of the circle in blood. The moment I was done, the whole thing glowed.

  Oh hell yeah.

  The house stilled. I’d not realized it vibrated until it stopped.

  The biting of my body ceased, too. Suddenly the gargoyles trying to get a bite threw themselves away from me and sprinted for the window. The foot of one monster hit a tiny etched symbol on the floor. The beast ignited, quickly engulfed in a pillar of white fire that turned almost instantly into ash.

  The gargoyle that gripped the sill to heave itself out yelped as its hand sank into the symbol-covered frame. I didn’t watch it getting sucked in. I pushed myself to my knees just as the third almost made it to the back door. The floor literally opened up under it and swallowed it whole.

  As I watched, the house took care of the living gargoyles, then the injured, and lastly the bodies of the dead. All of them absorbed into the house until only the demon was left.

  He lived, barely. His chest quivered, but he didn’t bleed.

  I didn’t get close. Nor did I loosen my grip on the gun. I wasn’t about to be that stupid chick in the movie who thinks a wounded monster isn’t dangerous.

  It lifted its head and grinned. “Kill me and more will come. For we are—"

  I shot it in the head and immediately stumbled back as the body ignited into an inferno, like the gargoyles but bigger and brighter. Hotter, too, because when it was done, unlike the others, a scorch mark remained on the floor.

  Slam.

  The back door closed as my cat sauntered in from outside. About freaking time.

  “Welcome back. You missed all the fun,” was my sarcastic comment.

  Grisou walked up to me and rubbed against my legs, purring.

  I kept the gun in one hand and scooped him with the other. Rubbing my cheek on him, I murmured, “What do you say we take care of the monsters in the bedroom?”

  Up the stairs we went, me setting my cat down just before I had to shoulder the hatch open.

  My room was a mess but gargoyle free. The first aid kit was under the bathroom sink. It didn’t take long to pour alcohol over the scratches to clean them. I said some very unladylike things. I had to wrap a bandage around my arm. I might need stitches, but the bleeding had stopped. I’d had a tetanus shot within the last few years, but I did worry about rabies.

  However, I wasn’t about to get in my car and drive to a hospital. How would I explain my injuries?

  Yeah, so I fought off some gargoyles and their demon lord.

  I’d end up in a padded room for sure. Better I stay home. After all, I’d done it. Fought monsters and demons and saved my house. Already it was looking healthier.

  I, on the other hand, was a shaking mess. With the danger gone, the adrenaline wore off. Forget sleeping in my room with the broken window. I snared my phone and returned downstairs, where a lamp glowed softly. The power had returned. The window over the woodpile had its shutters closed tight. All the windows did.

  There was a pillow and blanket on the couch. As if I could sleep.

  I plugged in my phone then perched on a kitchen stool, back to the fridge. I sipped on a hot cocoa that appeared beside me. Had I made it? I cradled the gun in my hand as the creamy sweetness did its best to soothe my nerves.

  What had just happened? I’d been attacked. By monsters no less.

  Or could it be…had I met my first orcs? Maybe Trish wasn’t crazy after all. I thought about calling her. I eyed my phone. It had a few percent, enough to call if I left it plugged in.

  First, I tried Winnie and got her voicemail. I left a message. “Hey, so, um, can you find a place for the night because, I, um…” I needed something plausible that wouldn’t panic her and send her home. I was trying to avoid her coming near the house in case the troubles weren’t over. I swallowed my hot-cheeked embarrassment and said, “I have a friend over. A, um, male friend.”

  I immediately hung up, embarrassed. Hoping she didn’t think less of me.

  I took another sip of the hot cocoa and blinked. My eyelids were getting so heavy. I couldn’t sleep. I needed to call someone else. I should…

  I woke in my bed, tucked under the covers, head on my pillow. The cat was snuggled against me.

  Wait a second…

  I bolted upright. My gaze slewed to the window. Unbroken. The disarray I could have sworn I’d seen? Gone. The bed was intact, despite it having been slashed to ribbons.

  I glanced at the blanket I clutched. Unfamiliar. As a matter of fact, I didn’t recognize the sheets on my bed, and the mattress felt firmer.

  “Did you replace it?” I muttered aloud. Had my house fixed itself? After the night I’d had, anything was possible. Except, had it been real?

  A shove of my sleeve showed no bandage and my skin unbroken but scarred. There was a line of white as if I’d had it for a long time.

  Rising from my bed, I threw on a robe and headed downstairs to find the windows just as staunchly shut. The woodstove upright. Nothing amiss. Or so I thought. I glanced at the circle on the floor where I’d confronted the demon. My heart stuttered to a stop.

  The scorch mark from when the body incinerated remained. And as if to taunt me, I could smell it. The dusting of ash from their bodies. Hear their shrill, yipping screams.

  It made me sick to my stomach. My gaze went to the kitchen next, and I flew to check the garbage pail under the sink.

  Emptied.

  Scratch. Scratch. The noise at the door had me whirling around to see my cat pawing at the back door.

  “Since when do you ask to go outside?”

  “Meow.”

  Seeing the rear entrance reminded me of something else I’d seen last night. The plant’s heart that I’d knifed. I moved to the portal and flung it open.

  Nothing lay on the ground. Just a round circle of dirt with a shiny edge of a stone peeking out. I dropped to my knees and pried at the stone, though not for long, as I realized it went deep. I’d found my cleaver.

  Absorbed by the ground.

  I rose and ignored my dirty knees as I went back inside and zombie-walked my ass back up the stairs where I collapsed on my bed.

  It was real. Last night had happened. I’d done battle with a demon and its minions of darkness. I’d used the house’s power to fight and win. Taught those things a lesson.

  “Don’t mess with a witch and her house,” I muttered aloud just as my cat jumped on the bed, “because apparently I can’t count on you.”

  My cat, truly concerned by the criticism, proceeded to bathe himself.

  “Jerk.” Said with much fondness.

  I rose and approached the window, despite the trepidation in me. I stared at it the whole way, but no eyes appeared. I stood at its unblemished surface and gazed upon the forest. Through the trees I could just glimpse the lake.

  If I looked down, I could probably see the bare spot on the ground with my knife.

  Magic. But why? What did it want?

  It occurred to me that perhaps it wasn’t me the monsters were after. I whirled to look for the puzzle box. Last I’d seen it was that morning, sitting on
my nightstand.

  I moved quickly to grab it, only my steps slowed as I realized it was missing. The puzzle box had disappeared. Where had it gone?

  “Did you eat it, too?” I asked the house. And then it seemed prudent to add, “Sorry about that evil plant.” Because there was no doubt that the ugly thing had done something to render my home vulnerable. And Jude had sent it. Meaning this attack had intent.

  And the only thing missing so far was the box. A valuable box, according to Darryl. But he claimed he didn’t know what was inside. That he’d never been able to open it. Truth or lie? How could I find out?

  And what of Kane? He’d advised me to enter a circle. He’d not told me I needed to bleed on it. Although who’s to say what he would have said had my phone not died?

  How had he known the circle would have magic? How had he known I even had one? He’d never been inside my house.

  But Darryl had. Surely if he’d wanted to plant some kind of evil jinx, he could have done it anytime and not resorted to sending it via Jude as his messenger.

  This was all very confusing.

  I walked over to my nightstand and ran a finger over it. It wasn’t the same one I’d had yesterday. Rather than an open cabinet with two shelves, it now had a single shelf and a drawer.

  Could the box be inside? I grasped the handle and pulled. I stared at the revolver nestled inside. Suddenly recalled in vivid detail every shot it had fired.

  My hand went to my nose. It no longer throbbed.

  I slammed the drawer shut. Breathed deep.

  “You win,” I whispered. I finally believed in magic.

  18

  I was kind of spooked, so I decided I needed some time away from the house. Better I get some work done than flinch every time I heard the slightest creak.

  I didn’t leave empty-handed. I brought a box full of treasures—things I’d found in the house that might hold answers to what I’d experienced the previous night. Maybe I’d find some clues about my cottage, too. Was it alive or more like a machine? Powered with magic and what? I couldn’t help but recall how it siphoned my blood. Like a leech.