Chapter 9 – The Demon’s Games

Every day the home grew heavier, as though the air itself were burdened with invisible evil. It seemed as though the home was alive, watching, and waiting, even though the walls moaned softly by night, like ancient wood settling.

The kids were evolving.

David had become silent and reclusive, avoiding family dinners in favor of spending time by himself in his room. He was now shunned by his siblings. He was always mumbling to himself and occasionally chuckling at jokes that only he understood. David gave Ethan a look—a grin too big for his face and too knowing—when Ethan questioned who he was speaking to.

David said, "You wouldn't understand," in a gentle, even pitying tone. "However, he gets me."

Ethan made an effort to ignore it, but it kept coming to mind. His brother had a problem, and it was becoming worse.

Then came the nightmares.

Ethan had a nightly fantasy in which Eva was standing above him, her hands closing around his throat. Despite her icy, vacant face, her iron-strength grip forced the breath out of his lungs. With a start, he would awaken, gripping his neck, the feel of her long fingers still pressing on his flesh.

His father dismissed his attempt to tell Thomas. "Ethan, it's only a dream. Your mother is doing well. Ethan, however, was wiser. It wasn't simply a dream.

David, too... David pretended to know something that Ethan was unaware of.

The darkness pressed in like a live thing as the evenings grew longer. Eva's actions became increasingly disturbing as a result.

Thomas initially observed minor details, such as Eva gazing into time, losing track of time, and forgetting conversations. However, as the nights drew on, she started to explore the home at strange hours, creeping around the hallways like a shadow in silence.

When Ethan woke up one night, she was standing in the doorway of his room, a faint shadow against the darkness. She stood for a long time, breathing shallowly and slowly, her hands drooping at her sides. Her eyes were open, but they were vacant, without warmth or familiarity.

"Mom?" Ethan sat up in bed and muttered.

She didn't answer. She remained motionless, observing him with the same empty gaze. After what seemed like an age, she turned and silently vanished down the corridor. The only indication that she had been inside at all was the sound of her soles on the wooden planks.

Then spent the remainder of the night lying awake with his heart racing. His mother was no longer that. Her face was being used by something else.

Simon became the first to awaken the following morning. He shouted as he rubbed his pupils and staggered to the window to draw back the curtains.

Another deceased bird, its wings spread awkwardly as though it had tumbled from a great height, sat on the ledge. Its lifeless black eyes gazed lifelessly at the youngster, and its neck was bent at an odd angle.

Everyone was awakened by Simon's scream, which reverberated throughout the house. Ethan and Thomas, their faces white with terror, rushed inside the room.

"What is it?" Simon was dragged away from looked out the window as Thomas made his demand.

Simon's hands were shaking as he pointed. It is identical to the last one. It is no longer alive.

Fear churned in Thomas's chest as he gazed at the bird. Each of the three birds they had discovered in the last few weeks had been discovered in the same condition—broken, twisted, and gazing with vacant eyes.

Ethan saw something else at that point.

His voice was sharp when he said, "David."

David stood at the entrance with his hands smeared with blood, and they all turned to stare at him.

Thomas's heart fell. "What the devil is that, David?"

As though he had only noticed the blood, David gazed at his hands. Then he grinned.

"It's alright," he muttered. "It's only a game." His face was composed, almost serene, as he gazed at Simon and Ethan. He instructed me to do so. It would improve everything, he claimed.

Ethan stepped forward, his chest churning with wrath. "What is the matter with you? Everyone is afraid of you!

David grinned broadly. "Ethan, you don't understand. However, it's alright. He turned to face the corridor, as though there were other people there. "Mom is now content."

A knot of coldness tightened in Ethan's stomach. He looked with horror at David. "You mean she's content?" Look at her, she's not happy!

David simply shrugged, though, as though the response was clear. She is no longer depressed. He made her better.

Whimpering, Simon held on to Ethan. David, what do you mean? "Who fixed her?"

Something evil, much too old for a child, glinted in David's eyes. "The companion." He spoke in a low, respectful tone. "He's improving her." And he will assist me as well.

Ethan took hold of his brother's arm and gave him a violent shake. "Stop it, David! No friend exists! This isn't a game.

David's smile, however, remained unwavering. "It's not a game. It's true. And you will soon see as well. There was something like sympathy in his eyes as he gazed at Simon. "Mom is now content. You ought to be content as well.

Thomas and Pastor John sat sharing the dark kitchen that night, trying to understand what was going on with whispers. As if the ghost were getting stronger and feeding off the family's anxiety and bewilderment, the house seemed heavier every day.

John drummed his fingers on the table and muttered sadly, "It's trying to break you apart." Eva is being used to turn all of the group against one another, and David is being used to get to Eva. It becomes stronger the more you battle.

With fatigue bearing upon him like a burden, Thomas wiped his face. "What are we going to do?"

John's eyes darkened with concern as he gently inhaled. "The family must be kept together by you. It can only be weakened in this way. The spirit will prevail if you give in to fear and begin to turn against one another. And if that occurs.

He didn't have to say the entire thing. Both of them were aware of the stakes.

Leaning when they returned to his chair, Thomas gazed up at the ceiling. The ghost was at the heart of his family's disintegration, drawing them all into the shadows.

He said, more for himself than to John, "I won't let it win." "I'll take any necessary action."

John nodded, but his face stayed serious. The worst was still to come, and the fight was far from over.