Rachel studied the peeling paint of the doorway as her mother searched through an enormous purse for keys. It had been almost seven years since she had been here. It had taken a reluctant promise to her dying grandmother to bring her back.

She suddenly noticed a small metal figure embedded in the wood around the door. She leaned forward to get a better look, raising a finger to trace the design. A small gasp escaped her lips as a jolt of energy suddenly raced up her arm.

“Aha!”

Rachel tore her attention from the door to her mother. Gloria Dillon held the keys in the air with a triumphant smile. But her smile faded as soon as she saw the expression on her daughter’s face.

“Rachel,” she sighed, “isn’t time to get over that childish fear?”

“I’m here, aren’t I, Mother?”

“Yes, I suppose you are.” She opened the door and stepped in inside.

Rachel gave the metal figure one last glance before she followed.

* * * * *

She left her mother in the living room, happily sorting through her grandmother’s knick knacks. Rachel used the excuse of looking for signs of break-ins to look through the rest of the house. She doubted that her mother even noticed her absence.

She paused as she made her way through the kitchen. The big window over the sink gave a lovely view of the back garden. But Rachel’s gaze was pulled to the woods beyond it.

She had spent so many happy summers in this house. Her mother was always on the hunt for a richer man, and a young daughter was never a welcomed addition. Grandma had been a welcomed solution for both Rachel and her mother.

Until the night it all changed.

Rachel immediately stepped back from the window. She promised herself she wouldn’t think about that. She quickly left the kitchen, never noticing the small metal figure embedded in the window sill.

* * * * *

The sun porch occupied the entire width of the back of the house. It was part sitting room and part greenhouse. But it was the plants that Rachel remembered best.

Grandma had kept several plants. Rosemary, thyme, and sage had filled the air with their aroma while aloe had occupied several pots. Violets, roses and geraniums had added color to the greenery.

They had spent so many hours in here. Her grandmother had taught her about each plant, quizzing her endlessly on its uses. She had loved working with them, eagerly helping her grandmother make salves and different concoctions.

But now most of the plants were dead. They, like the house, had been neglected in her grandmother’s absence. Hadn’t anyone thought to check on things for her?

Probably several had. There were many people in town who would love a look inside Aldina Mayweather’s house. However, there were few people in town that her grandmother would have trusted.

She wondered through the dead plants. Even the heartier plants were dying, signaling the length of the neglect. She found a watering can. After a brief trip back to the kitchen, she set about watering any plant that looked like it could be alive.

As she made her way to the end of the room, she something metal gleam by the door. She set the watering can aside. With a puzzled frown, she moved to the door.

She felt the same jolt of energy as before as she touched the metal. She traced the design with a finger. The figure was made of iron. Something in the back of her mind told her that it was meant for protection.

“Rachel.” Red eyes appeared in the glass of the French doors. She was unable to pull her eyes away. A grin appeared below the eyes, full of sharp, narrow teeth. “How I have waited for you.”

“Rachel?”

The eyes immediately disappeared.

“Rachel!”

She whirled away from the door to face her mother. “Yeah, Mom?”

“What are you doing?”

“Watering the plants.”

Her mother eyed the dead and dying plants and then the abandoned watering can. “I see,” she said evenly. “Well, I’ve finished with the living room.”

“That was quick.”

“Have you found any signs of break-ins?”

Rachel shook her head. “Not yet.”

“I’m going to start in the dining room.”

“I’m going to finish walking through the downstairs.”

“Why don’t you start on the library when you’re finished? Books are definitely more your area than mine.”

“Sure,” but Rachel’s tone was far from enthusiastic.

“I’ll help you when I can,” she promised. Her mother gave her one last glance before leaving the room.

Rachel turned back to the door. There were no red eyes or leering grin there now. Shaking her head, she went and retrieved the watering can.

‘I’m letting this house get to me,’ she thought.

* * * * *

Rachel made quick work of the rest of her survey. She was a bit relieved that there had not been break-ins. The empty house would have been an easy target.

She made her way back to the front of the house. As promised, her mother was in the dining room. The floor was covered with different piles of dishes and pieces of silver.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother turned from the window. “Any signs of break-ins?”

“No, nothing appears to be touched.”

“That’s good.” Her mother continued to glance at something by the window.

“What are you looking at, Mom?”

“Oh, there’s this weird metal figure in the wood. I wonder why Mother put it here.”

Some movement in the window caught Rachel’s attention. The red eyes had reappeared. Her mouth went dry as a twisted body materialized.

“Mom.”

The creature grinned. Clawed fingers, brown as dirt, scratched against the window. It pressed its face closer to the glass, closer to her mother.

“Mom!”

“What, Rachel? I almost have this out.”

Rachel tore her eyes from the window to her mother. Her mother had a finger wedged under the metal figure. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw the creature’s grin broadened.

“Mom, leave it alone!”

But it was too late. The metal figure fell into her mother’s hand. Immediately the window cracked.

Rachel grabbed her mother’s arm and yanked her from the window. A heavy blow came, cracking the glass of the window further. The creature smirked as it raised its fist again.

“What’s going on?” her mother demanded.

For a moment, Rachel thought about replacing the metal figure. Another blow immediately cancelled that plan. Pieces of glass from the window were now falling to the floor with each blow.

“We have to get out of here!” she cried.

She dragged her mother out of the room, ignoring the other woman’s protest. Her focus was getting them away from the creature. She wished her grandmother was here so she could demand to know what was going on.

“Promise me,” her grandmother had said. “Rachel, promise me that you’ll go to the house. I leave everything to you and your mother, but you must make sure that everything is alright.”

Was this what her grandmother had meant?

Rachel quickened her pace as the front door came into view. If they could get to the car, she felt that they would be safe. They could get out of here.

No inheritance was worth this.

Her mother was demanding that she slow down, that she let go of her mother’s arm, that she explain what she was doing. Her mother clearly hadn’t seen the creature in the dining room. How she could explain what she didn’t understand herself?

Rachel froze as a demonic face appeared in the glass of the front door. She couldn’t tell if it was the same creature or a different one. That meant that there was either it was really fast or there was more than one.

She couldn’t decide which was worse.

She immediately turned around and pulled her mother out of the room. She raced to the other end of the house. She ignored sound of breaking glass as they passed the dining room.

The sun porch had the only other exterior door on this level of the house. It was their best chance to get out of the house now. But she was trying to devise a plan B even as she reached for the door knob.

The creature was already at the glass, leering at her. “Oh, how I have waited for you!”

Rachel’s mother slammed into her, nearly knocking Rachel into the door. She was helping Rachel back to her feet when she suddenly froze. “Dear God.”

“Mom?”

“Rachel, what is that thing?” She pointed a shaky finger at the door.

The creature’s leering grin widened. “Soon.”

Rachel grabbed her mother’s outstretched arm and pulled her away from the door. She desperately needed someplace where she could keep her mother safe and maybe figure out what this creature was. Now.

“Come on, Mom.”

“What? Where are we going?”

But Rachel didn’t bother to reply. She pulled her mother behind her as she made her way back into the house. She tried to ignore the sound of breaking glass behind her.

As soon as she reached the library, she threw the door open and shoved her mother inside. She slammed the door closed behind her. With shaking hands, she turned the locks.

She sighed with relief when she saw the protective metal figure. But the relief was short-lived. The symbol was no longer enough to keep the creature out if the breaking glass in the sun porch was any sign.

How could she augment the symbol’s protection?

She turned to begin searching the library for anything of help. But she stopped. Her mother stood before her, hands on her hips. “What the hell is going?” she demanded.

Rachel sighed and tried to step around her. But her mother followed the movement. “Rachel, I asked you a question,” she snapped.

“Well, Mom, I wasn’t learning just about herbs all those summers I spent with Grandma. Seems like Grandma was into witchcraft after Grandfather died.”

“Witchcraft? Rachel, be serious.”

“I am.”

She pulled back her sleeve, revealing a long scar down her forearm. “The night she gave me this, the night I “made everything up”, we were out in the woods. We had a huge fire going. We were throwing random herbs into while Grandma chanted. I didn’t know that she needed blood until she grabbed my arm and slashed it with a knife.

“I don’t know what she was trying to conjure but that creature appeared. It almost had me before Grandma made it disappeared. Obviously she didn’t do a good job of it.”

Her mother’s hand flew up to her mouth in horror. “Oh, Rachel.”

Rachel brushed brusquely past her, ignoring her mother as she reached for her. It was a little late for her mother to try to comfort her. She pulled her sleeve back down as she made her way to the desk.

Her grandmother had denied everything when Rachel had tried to tell her mother what had happened. Convinced that the girl was either a pathological liar or disturbed, Gloria had signed her daughter into a psychiatric ward. It was three months before she returned to start work toward Rachel’s release.

Rachel had endured years of therapists and pills after that. She finally learned not to talk about what exactly happened. She hadn’t stepped foot in her grandmother’s house since. Until now.

She threw old bills and other useless papers to the floor. Her grandmother had had a book that she used a lot. Rachel needed to find it as it could have the answers she desperately needed.

She looked up as the door began to rattle. Her mother scrambled back from the door with almost whimper. Rachel frantically scanned the top of the desk again. Her eyes fell on the letter opener.

Grabbing it, she went to her mother. “Give me the figure, Mom.”

“What?” She pulled her eyes from the door to her daughter. “The figure? Why?”

Rachel forced her mother’s hand open and grabbed the metal figure. “It’s a symbol for protection. It’s the best I can do for now.”

“Do? What are you going to do?”

Rachel walked over to the door. With a grimace, she stabbed the end of a finger with the sharp letter opener. Blood immediately welled up from the wound. She traced the symbol with her finger, smearing her blood on the surface. Whispering one of the few spells she still remembered, she pressed the symbol against the door. There was a brief flash of light and then the figure was embedded in the wood.

The door stopped rattling.

Using her blood, Rachel reinforced the symbol near the window. She hoped that it would be enough to buy her some time to find out more about this creature. But more importantly she needed time to find a way to kill it.

She studied the letter opener. It was one of the few things that could be a weapon if needed. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that as she handed it to her mother.

Her mother’s went wider as she took the letter opener. “What am I suppose to do with this?”

“Protect yourself.”

Her mother sank boneless into a chair. “I need a Xanax.”

Rachel ignored her mother as she resumed searching through the desk. She remembered that there was a false bottom in one of the lowest drawers. Finding, she pulled the entire drawer out and dumped its contents on the floor. She set the now empty drawer on the top of the desk.

‘Please let this be it,’ she prayed. She found the latch and the compartment opened. With a sigh of relief, she pulled the once familiar book from its hiding place.

She dropped the drawer to the floor and placed the book in its place. The book was actually a journal of her grandmother’s study of what she called “the old ways”. Rachel quickly flipped to the entries from that fateful summer.

Her grandmother had grown bored of simple charms and healing potions. She had set her sights on conjuring and summoning. In one of the margin, she had sketched the creature she had decided to summon.

“The mercenarius demon,” she read aloud.

“Demon?”

Rachel glanced up at her mother. “What did you think we were dealing with?”

“Oh, God,” her mother moaned. “Oh, God.”

Her grandmother had used her blood for extra power. She had wanted to bring forth a stronger demon. The demon was bound by the will of the caster, its new master.

But her grandmother was dead. Was the demon now free? Or was it still continuing some task for its master?

She flipped to the back of the journal. Her grandmother had realized that she was dying. The strength of her spells was weakening. And so was her hold over the demon.

The window suddenly rattled behind her, making Rachel yelp in surprise. She grabbed the journal as she turned around. The demon leered at her. Its claws scraped down the glass, sending a shiver down her spine.

Rachel watched in horror was the metal figure, the symbol of protection, fell to the floor. The demon pressed its hand harder against the window, cracking the glass. Her mother began to scream as the glass suddenly shattered and the demon’s hand entered the room.

As the hole grew, the demon pushed more of its body into the room. Rachel scrambled backwards, falling onto the top of the desk. She quickly swung her legs up and over the desk. She scooted off, placing the heavy oak desk behind her and the creature.

She continued to back away. She tried to think, to come up for something to stop it, to protect herself and her mother. But her mind stayed blank. She could only watch as the demon emerged through the window and perched on the desk.

It was the forest all over again. She was helpless. Why hadn’t her grandmother warned her? Why had the older woman allowed her to walk into this danger blindly?

The creature jumped from the desk. Rachel tried to move back further but her back hit the door. It stopped in front of her and bowed.

“What is your bidding, mistress?”

“What?” she whispered.

“What is your bidding?”

“Go home,” Rachel said, her voice shaking. “I bid you to go home.”

“As you will.” With a final bow, the creature disappeared.

Rachel slid to the floor. She couldn’t tear her eyes from where the creature had stood just moments before. She tried to convince herself that all of it truly happened.

“Is it gone?” Her mother rose from behind the chair, the letter opener still clutched in her hand.

“Yes, Mom, it’s gone.”

She still held her grandmother’s journal in her hand. She had inherited some of her grandmother’s power as the day had shown her. If she wanted, there was so much she could learn.

But she didn’t want it.

She set the journal on the floor. Without another look at it, she rose to her feet. “Let’s go home, Mom.”