the deck and just a little way beyond.
There was nothing there.
It had probably just been a deer. It was common enough to see a few of them lingering in the yard in the morning. I was just being paranoid.
I made sure the deadbolt was turned before I went back to bed.
I woke on Sunday morning with my heart pounding. I’d been dreaming, but the memories of it were fading so quickly I could barely grasp them. I’d been wandering in the dark, somewhere pitch black and narrow. But now all that remained was the smell of seawater, briny in my nose as if I’d just taken a dip in the ocean.
Once dressed in some lounge pants and an oversized hoodie, I put on a pot of coffee to brew. The recollection of what had happened yesterday had me jittery, unable to sit still before I’d even downed my morning caffeine. I’d planned to upload all the St. Thaddeus recordings to my computer after breakfast and begin editing, but I also had that video of Leon on my phone. I felt bizarrely nervous to view it.
I went into the gallery, my heart pounding, irrationally scared at what I’d find. What if the video wasn’t there, what if it was all static or the file was corrupted?
But it was still there, and it was clear as day.
“Is this the attention you wanted? Well, now I have it on video that you’re a creep who follows women into the woods. Good luck keeping your job after this!”
Leon hadn’t even glanced at the camera as I shoved it at him. He only looked at me, furious and panting below him, shining that obnoxious flash in his face. I cringed as I listened to myself, wishing that I’d been calmer.
Leon snatched my wrist, forcing the camera down, and the remainder of the video was just a blurry view of the dusty floor, the audio muffled. But I could still make out his voice as he growled, “I warned you, doll. Didn’t I tell you to behave? I told you not to come here, not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
My stomach fluttered. The viciousness in his voice ignited an immediate, visceral feeling within me. It made no sense to be aroused by that, but there I was.
“What you’ve started here isn’t easily undone.”
What had he meant by that? What had I started?
“I’m going to catch you. And when I do, I’ll make you scream.”
My insides quivered. Fucking hell. I’d been threatened by a man who stalked me out into the woods, and my vagina decided to turn on me like this? This was on another level of fucked up.
The longer I listened to his voice, the more I ached to find him again, to — to do what? To jump on his dick? Demand answers? Rage at him for confusing me?
“Give me the book. Otherwise, you’re going to be a very sorry girl.”
I paused the video. These didn’t seem like the words of a man who had just pulled off one of the world’s most elaborate pranks. He sounded furious, even desperate. I restarted the video, skipping ahead just a few seconds to the moment right before he grabbed my wrist.
There was a frame, a single frame in the blur of motion when he grabbed me, that looked different. I struggled for several moments to pause it at just the right spot, moving the video backward and forward until…
There. A single frame. A frame that should have shown Leon, but it didn’t. Instead, it showed a dark figure with Leon’s face, with golden eyes and sharp grinning teeth.
One slightly blurred frame that felt like a puzzle piece sliding into place.
Monday morning brought clear skies, cold and pale blue overhead as I walked to campus. I was jumpy, constantly looking over my shoulder, as if Leon would sense I knew his secret and get rid of me before I could let it out. I’d saved a screenshot on my phone of that damning frame from the video. I felt as if I’d already stared at it for hours, trying to glean the truth from that haunting picture.
No one would believe me. They would think I faked the video, photoshopped the image. But after staring at that golden-eyed figure, blurry but undeniable, I knew: Leon wasn’t human. The thing in that photo wasn’t human.
I believed the summoning ritual had worked.
I believed I had summoned a demon.
I believed that demon was Leon.
And I, perhaps every inch