The Doll and the Demon, Part Five

Rachel’s body twitched as she sat up. She pushed me away, facing  forward with unblinking eyes. Blood dripped down her chin, as if she’d bit her cheek fighting the demon before it took her. Because she would have fought. I knew how she could fight.

                  She stood up slowly, licking the blood on her lips, gazing around the room as if it were an alien landscape and she was looking for prey.

“Oh God,” Tobie breathed. “Oh God, what do we do?” She looked at me. “What do we do?”

“I don’t—I don’t—” I looked for my phone. I’d dropped it. Maybe repeating the chanting? But looking down for it, I spotted the doll at Rachel’s feet. 

Anastasia. Amelia. Whatever. It had been protecting Lily from the demon. Maybe too well.

But maybe—

Before I could think through my very vague idea enough to talk myself out of it, I snatched up the doll. I saw Lily squirm in Mike’s arms, but he held her tight. I pushed the doll toward Rachel, thrusting it against her arm.

Rachel leaned back, spitting. Her sightless eyes glared at me like daggers, while the spit mixed with her blood dripped onto the doll. 

“My phone,” I snapped, holding my other hand out. “Phone!”

Tobie pressed my phone into my hand, and I blinked, focused my eyes, and started reading again, keeping the doll between us as I struggled with the ancient words. Rachel snarled at me, spewing words in a language none of us understood.

A moment later I heard Tobie. She was reading along with me, from Rachel’s phone. She was trying to hold onto Rachel’s arm but she kept twisting, and finally she had to let go and hold the phone with both hands.

“Wait,” I told her. “We take turns. Someone hold onto her!”

Mike came up behind Rachel and wrapped his arms around her stomach. Lily stood behind him, holding onto her leg as she kicked and lurched from one side to the other.

Tobie started reading. I waved the doll in front of Rachel’s face, feeling like a schoolkid taunting a friend. But mostly I felt terrified. Even at that moment, all I could think about was how Rachel was going to be mad at me if this didn’t work. 

Tobie finished her portion, and I took it up again. We were almost through the reading. Rachel kept fighting, sputtering what felt like curse words in whatever language Shedomar remembered. I had to drop the doll, and Lily knelt to hold it next to her feet, trying to keep it out of range of Rachel’s shoes as she tried to stomp and kick it.

I finished and looked at Tobie. “Okay, now, together.”

She nodded.

“Shedomar!” we said in unison. “You are cast out! You are cast out! You are cast—”

Rachel screamed. Her face seemed to turn black with rage, her eyes burning red instead of white. Mike looked down at Lily, frightened, and Lily clapped her hands over her ears, bending over the doll as if protecting it. Sweat ran down Tobie’s face. My own heart thudded like a drum.

“Out!” we finished. 

Rachel collapsed, sagging into Mike’s arms. Tobie reached out to grab her shoulder. I dropped my phone, bent down, and yanked the doll away from Lily, tossing it across the room. 

Its eyes were white.

 

Rachel sat at the kitchen table, gulping down bottled water. “Well, that was—intense.”

                  “Are you okay?” Tobie scooted her chair right up next to her, a hand on her arm, watching her like a mother hawk.

                  She sighed. “I guess. I sort of remember the thing—going into me. It’s not the first time that’s happened.” She glared at me. “But I could hear all you guys yelling. Your pronunciation was pretty bad—the demon couldn’t understand half of it, but the gist got through. It was fighting inside me. Like a bowl of bad chili.” More water. “Where’s the doll?”

                  “In a box. Outside.” I sipped some beer. 

                  “So Amelia was—bad?” Lily was still shivering. Mike was as close to her as Tobie was to Rachel.

                  Rachel didn’t answer. I tried to. “I don’t know. Maybe—I think Shedomar was trapped inside, and the doll was trying to keep it there. So it was protecting you, until the demon managed to reach out for you.”

                  “Why did it go to Rachel?” Tobie asked.

                  “Maybe because she’s psychic?” I shook my head. “Best guess. Rach?”

                  She sighed, tired and irritable. “Maybe. I don’t know.” 

                  “You want to go home?” I asked.

                  She rubbed her eyes. “Actually—could I talk to Lily for a minute?”

                  Mike stiffened and looked at his daughter. “Lily? Do you want to talk to Rachel? You don’t have to.”

                  “It’s okay.” Lily took a last slurp from her juice box. “In the fort?”

                  Rachel smiled.

                  Mike shifted chairs to sit next to Tobie, his arm around her, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Well, thank you. For everything.”

                  I wasn’t so sure I’d helped them. Would the demon come back? Would Lily have night terrors? They could all get PTSD—I’d seen that before. “You should probably destroy the doll. Or bury it far away from here so it can’t follow you back.”

                  He nodded.

                  Tobie took his glass and swallow some whiskey. “I guess—you saved her, though. You saved Rachel. Thank you for that.”

                  I shrugged. “It’s what I do. Sometimes. She doesn’t usually need saving. More often she saves me.”

                  Rachel came back a few minutes later. “Everything’s fine.” She sat down and grabbed my beer. “I just—I ought to tell you . . .” Her voice trailed away.

                  Tobie frowned. “What?”

                  “As time goes on, Lily might—might, I’m saying, just might—develop psychic powers of her own.” Rachel bit her lip. “I asked her some questions, and I—tried to look into her mind. Nothing intrusive,” she said quickly. “I don’t read minds. But—there might be something there. Something that attracted the doll and the demon, after all this time.”

                  Tobie looked at Mike. He tensed for a moment, and I thought he might shatter the glass in his hand. Then he sighed. “Well, that’ll be interesting.”

                  “It’s just . . .” Rachel closed her eyes for a moment. “You’ve got to listen to her. Okay?  Believe her. Don’t—”

                  “Don’t do what I did?” Tobie’s voice was icy.

                  Rachel stifled a groan. “I wasn’t going to say it like that—”

                  “I know I did a lot of things. Or I didn’t do things right. Or, or, whatever. It was—I was—”

                  “Mom, it’s okay.” Rachel reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “It’s all good now. We all survived. And I’ve got Tom.” She patted my arm.

                  Tobie rolled her eyes. “Welcome to the family.”

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