Daemon

The car's high beams cut through the darkness of the country road. Allison knew she hadn't passed any other cars in a while, but she didn't want to admit that she was lost. She glanced down at the directions she held, trying to read them in the dim glow of her dashboard lights, wondering where she could have gone wrong. Lisa's directions had been vague, but Allison had been positive she could find the place without any trouble.

Frustrated, she pulled over to the side of the road to see if she could figure out where she was. She turned on the car's dome lights, but that didn't help. Lisa's directions were just as obscure as ever.

"Take a left at the tree that looks like a pointing finger?" Allison read out loud. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to Lisa." She threw the directions onto the passenger seat in disgust and pulled out her cell phone.

"No service?" The useless phone joined the useless directions and Ally sat back, folding her arms across her chest. No doubt the costume party had started without her. She had been looking forward to showing off her Red Ridinghood costume. She looked killer, if she did say so herself.

Ahead, Allison could make out the lights of a farmhouse. Maybe she could find someone to give her better directions. She cut the car's engine and grabbed her purse, stuffing the cell phone into it. She got out of the car and started heading for the welcoming lights, the only lights she could see.

The night was pitch black. There were no stars and the moon hid behind a bank of clouds. The night was chilly and Allison shivered. Aside from the red dress she wore, her costume consisted of just a light red wrap with a hood on it. She hadn't expected this hike. She gathered the wrap closer, but left the hood down, not wanting to ruin her hair.

Somewhere a dog started barking, but otherwise the night was quiet. Allison was used to the lights and noise of the city. She shivered from more than just the cold.

The house's driveway was a long one. Allison hesitated at the end of it. She didn't feel comfortable barging in on someone else's evening, but did she really have any choice? She knew her destination lay somewhere near here, but it was so dark that it was impossible to see the landmarks Lisa had mentioned in her directions. She could head for home, except she didn't even know in which direction that lay.

She sighed and headed down the driveway. It curved and meandered until it deposited her before the front door. The house was three stories high with a little turret at the top that Allison guessed was an attic. Light blazed from the downstairs windows, but it was the attic light that Allison had seen from her car, she was sure of it. That light was dark now, though.

She stepped up onto the porch. A jack-o-lantern grinned at her from its spot next to the door and a stuffed scarecrow reclined in the rocker at the end of the porch. The front door had an old-fashioned brass knocker mounted on it. With determination, Allison lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop. She didn't have to wait long before she heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

The door swung open. A middle-aged couple stood on the other side of it, wide grins on their expectant faces. The woman held a large bowl of candy. The man had a ridiculous looking party hat perched on his head. It had grinning jack-o-lanterns on it.

"You're not a trick-or-treater." The woman spoke first. Her smile didn't waver, although she still managed to look disappointed.

Allison shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. I'm kind of lost. I was just hoping you could give me some directions."

"Oh, of course. Come in, dear. You look half froze." The couple backed away, giving Allison room to enter. "We were just sitting down to dinner."

"I'm sorry for interrupting."

"Oh, no trouble, dear." The woman set the bowl of candy on a small table next to the door. "Why don't you stay for dinner, dear?"

"I don't want to intrude," Allison protested.

The man spoke for the first time. "We have cake!"

"Come on," the woman insisted. "I made more than enough."

A crestfallen look appeared on the man's face. "Yes. We were hoping our son would come home today. It's his birthday, you know. We had a great surprise planned."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Allison said politely.

"We love trick-or-treaters," the man replied, leaving Allison to wonder what that really had to do with anything.

"Make yourself at home, dear," the woman said, ignoring him. "I'm Debbie Mason, by the way, and this is my husband, Peter."

"I'm Allison."

"You know, our Daemon would be about your age, Allison," Peter said as Debbie bustled off to the kitchen.

"Oh?" Allison glanced around the living room she now found herself in.

A floral sofa and two matching chairs were the only pieces of furniture, so she turned her attention to the pictures hanging on the wall. There were only a few. There was a picture of Peter and Debbie, as well as a picture of them on their wedding day. Allison stopped in front of the last picture.

"Is this your son?" she asked. A boy of about eight stared back at her. There was no hint of a smile on his face. The photo was black and white, but Allison could almost swear she saw a hint of red in each coal-black eye. She shuddered.

"That's the most recent picture we have of him," Peter said from her elbow and Allison jumped. Peter didn't seem to notice. "He's been gone a long time."

"Where is he exactly?" Allison asked.

Debbie bustled in to announce that dinner was on the table before Allison got an answer. Allison tried to forget about the haunting face of the little boy as she followed the Masons into the kitchen.

A helium balloon sat in the center of the table. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAEMON, it proclaimed. It makes a creepy looking centerpiece, Allison thought as she took the seat Debbie indicated.

"We even have confetti," Peter said sadly.

"Yes, well, we'll just have to keep waiting," Debbie said with a pained smile. "He'll come home when he's good and ready."

"Where is he?" Allison asked again. She took a bite of the roast beef Debbie had set in front of her.

"We don't talk about that, dear," Debbie said sharply.

Allison sank back into her chair. She kept her mouth shut through the rest of dinner, though she really just wanted to ask for directions so she could be on her way.

"Cake, dear?" Debbie asked once they had finished dinner and the plates were cleared off the table.

Allison shook her head. "No thanks. I've had plenty."

"Kids love cake." Debbie set a plate in front of Allison as if she hadn't heard Allison's polite refusal.

It was devil's food with white frosting. It did look delicious. Allison tried a small bite.

Somewhere a door slammed. Allison jumped and glanced up. The sound had come from somewhere above them.

"Is there someone else here?" she asked her hosts.

"I killed him," Peter said after taking his own bite of cake.

Allison looked at him, sure she had misunderstood. "I'm sorry?"

"I killed him," Peter repeated.

Allison set her fork down carefully. "Who?" She hadn't quite decided whether he was serious or not.

"Daemon. Our son."

Allison looked from Peter to Debbie, hoping for an explanation or for one of them to tell her it was a joke. Pretty sick joke, she thought.

"Daemon wants you, Allison," Debbie said. Her words did nothing to reassure Allison.

Allison pushed her chair back, the legs scraping across the linoleum. "What are you talking about?" She couldn't keep her voice from shaking. "You said he would be coming back."

"Yes. He loves Halloween," Peter mumbled to his cake.

"He was born on All Hallows Eve," Debbie said, rising to her feet. Allison kept a wary eye on her. "We named him Daemon because that's what he is; a demon."

"So I killed him," Peter said in a sing-song voice and then laughed in a way that suggested he wasn't completely sane.

Allison found she couldn't keep an eye on both of the Masons at the same time. Peter was still sitting on her left. Debbie stood on her right.

"But the demon wouldn't leave us alone," Debbie continued. "In fact, it became worse after being freed from its fleshy prison."

"I stabbed him here," Peter pointed to a spot on his chest directly over his heart, "and here, and here, and here, and here, and here." He pointed to more points on his anatomy. "Six times until he stopped moving!"

Allison got to her feet, her heart beating hard and fast. Her mouth was dry and she felt like screaming. She was trapped in between them. Peter remained in his chair, but her path out of the kitchen would take her within his reach.

"Daemon's old enough now to take a bride," Debbie said. "And he's chosen you, Allison."

"He won't let you leave," Peter said, his eyes finally focusing on her.

Allison shook her head in silent denial. She didn't believe a word of this. She only knew these people were crazy.

She turned and raced past Peter, expecting him to grab her, to tackle her to the ground, but he never moved from his chair. Once back in the hallway, it was a short sprint to the front door. The door was closed of course.

Allison grasped the doorknob and tried turning it, but it wouldn't budge. Her sweaty hand slipped off the knob. She could hear Peter's and Debbie's footsteps behind her, but she didn't turn. Maybe the door was just locked. She thumbed the lock and tried the knob again. Still the door wouldn't budge. She yanked on it, willing her determination to open it and let her out into the relative safety of the night, but the door wouldn't cooperate. She gasped, panicky tears obscuring her vision until everything disappeared in a watery blur and she sank to the ground, her energy spent.

"Ally," a voice whispered. The voice didn't sound like either Peter's or Debbie's. "You're mine now, Ally." The voice tried to sound soothing, but there was too much darkness in it, too much madness.

"Ally." Something caressed her bent head, chilling her with its touch. The same thing forced her head up, demanding that she face the madness that infected this house.

"You're my bride now, Ally."

Allison felt her mind splinter and then she began to scream.