Seeker Demon
by Allie Jean
“It’ssss time, my dear,” an evil voice said from across the room, making
the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t know what to do
or where to go. The door to the hallway was on the opposite side of the
apartment, and it was impossible to get there without getting closer to that
shadow.
She glanced back in Nick’s direction, not knowing what to do, but he
stood there, offering no help, those almost clear eyes holding her gaze. She
wanted to tell him to do something if he was real, but an almost
imperceptible shake of his shadowed head kept her silent. She bit her
bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
“What do you want from me?” she asked the moving shadow, her voice
quavering in fear.
“Your death,” the thing said, taking a step out of the darkness. “Or the
equivalent would be niiiiice.”
It was a grotesque creature wrapped in a thick, dark cloak, and it shuffled
from side to side as it moved, its three-toed feet offering a wide base, its
bald head holding no eyes or features but a yawning, empty mouth filled
with rows of razor-sharp teeth.
The clanking noise got louder as it moved closer, and Chantal noticed
something hanging from the front of its robes.
“You like it?” it asked, laughing and holding up the long chain of
dangling things that clanked together as it moved. They looked like little
baseballs in the dim lighting, but something inside told her they were far
more horrendous. “These are the heads of your kin. The ones I found while
they were still in infancy.”
She covered her mouth, trying to avoid being sick. The skulls of babies
hitting one another produced the sound, and she couldn’t help but let out a
little cry. It laughed at her, holding up the makeshift belt so that she could
get a better view.
“Don’t feel bad for them, my lamb. They had it easy, probably didn’t
even feel a thing. You, on the other hand . . .”
It pulled out a long serrated blade, the edges of it coated in what looked
like dried blood. Chantal moved along the wall frantically, trying to find a
means of escape.
“Why? Who are you?” she shouted.
“I’m The Sssseeker, my dear. I’m the one who finds your kin and wipes
them out.”
“There must be a mistake,” she said, frantic. “I’m not who you think I
am.”
“Oh, but you are. I can smell the scent of Grace on you a mile away.”
The creature came closer, its stench nauseating. Chantal wanted to scream
but didn’t, not wanting to alarm her neighbors. She wouldn’t drag them into
her nightmare.
She had the urge to fight him off but didn’t have any sort of weapon
within reach. She could hear Natalie’s voice in her mind telling her
countless times to make sure she bought a gun once she reached the city,
but Chantal had always brushed the warning off. Now, she wished she’d
listened. Hell, even a baseball bat would do right now.
The thing came closer, shuffling steps dragging it across the floor. She
glanced toward Nick, hoping that he’d pop out of the shadow and come to
rescue her, but he wasn’t there. His silhouette had disappeared, along with
any hope she had beforehand.
She scrambled across the wall, heading toward her bed, hoping she could
find something to defend herself. She pushed herself across the mattress,
keeping the thing in view as she reached for the lamp. He laughed, both of
them knowing she was pathetic. He raised his blade as his oozing mouth
formed a horrifying smile.
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