The stabbing sound of a gunshot pierced her ears.  Genette, a seventeen-year-old girl, jolted from her deep sleep.  Immediately, she forced herself from her bed.

“Mom, did you hear that?” she asked walking into her mother’s bedroom.  To her surprise, the room was empty.

“Mom,” Genette called, “Where did you go?”  Genette felt uneasy; her mother would never leave at a time like this.  Trying not to worry, Genette quickly dialed her mother’s phone number into her phone.  The familiar ringtone sounded from the bedside table.

“Where is she?” Genette thought aloud.  Suddenly, a shrill, unfamiliar voice rang inside her head, causing her hair to stand on end.  

“Your dear mother has come to me, Darling.  She’s dead.” The voice cackles violently.  “And your brother will be next!”  Those last words--your brother will be next--brought Genette back to her feet, though she hadn’t realized that she’d fallen.  Her stomach turned over, and she stifled a scream. In tears, Genette started towards her brother’s bedroom.  Was Thomas dead? Was she too late? Had he heard the voice too?

As she ran through the door to her brother’s bedroom, Genette noticed a dark, body-shaped figure hovering above his sleeping body.  The figure moved its hands and spoke in words unknown to Genette. Thomas struggled for a few seconds while Genette screamed. She watched as her brother’s body went limp.  The figure looked at her, and she felt her knees give. Its face was as pale as the moon, and the place where its eyes should be were vacant black holes. The figure turned away and vanished, leaving with him a sound that she, Genette, believed was its version of a laugh.

Another gunshot went off.

Genette’s began to sob to herself.  Mom.  Thomas.  Dead. She remained still and silent.  Faintly, Genette heard her mother’s voice.  Her mother was shouting something. Genette couldn’t understand.  She listened as the voice came closer and closer.

“Run,” she finally understood, “get out!”

Genette sped for the front door.  She didn’t know where to go, but she knew she had to run.  Her mother’s voice followed her closely screaming, “Run, Genette, run!”  Genette ran until she reached the front door of her annoyingly large house and immediately opened the door.  She got into her car and rotated the key. Once the engine finally turned over, Genette shifted into drive. She sped out of her driveway and drove for what felt like hours.  

After a while, Genette stopped hearing her mother.  All was quiet. She had almost decided the whole thing had been her imagination, or maybe she was sleeping.  No.  This felt too real to be a dream.   Finally, when the silence was louder than thunder, Genette decided to turn on the radio, thinking it may calm her.  This was not the case. As soon as the button was pushed, a voice blared.

“Come to me, Genette!” the voice beckoned.  “Come to me like your mother and brother did!  Don’t you want to be with them?”

Genette felt exhausted.  Her eyes were so heavy. She didn’t know what to do.  She had no chance of outrunning the voice--the figure in Thomas’s room.  Genette did not know how long she had until it inevitably killed her too.  Her body told her to stop, to just give up. She wanted so badly to listen and to give in.  She was scared--no, horrified, but she had no other option.  

Without another thought, Genette pulled to the side of the road.  She so hoped death would be fast and painless--sweet even. Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline came through her as another voice--a familiar voice from the back seat screamed.  

“Don’t stop Genette.  You have to listen to me. Go!”  Genette, with nothing else left to lose, immediately floored the gas with all she had, spinning tires in the process.  She turned her head to the side, hoping to identify the voice she’d heard before.

“Who are you?”  

“I know you won’t believe me, but I am your father.”

“No you’re not,” was all she said.  This man cannot be my father, Genette thought to herself, He died in a car wreck when I was six!  

“I know you do not believe me, but I am your best chance of getting out of here.  Alive, that is. I’ve dealt with this demon before. Please, you have to listen to me!”   Genette’s gut said not trust him, but she had no other option.

“Okay,” she finally agreed, “What do I need to do?”  Genette’s father told her to drive to an abandoned motel two towns over--apparently where he’d been staying for the past eleven years.  Once they were there, she was to go inside and cover all openings with salt. After that, she was to anoint the doors and write some terrifyingly sinister symbols on the walls.  

“Have you done everything?” Genette’s father asked after finishing his own tasks.  

“Yes, I have.  Could you please explain to me what all of this is?” she replied.  

“Not right now, Darling, it is almost over.”  Darling?  Eleven years had gone by, but Genette knew her father never called her Darling.  She may not remember her father’s face or even the sound of his voice, but she knew this much.  She looked at him questioningly. Suddenly, before she could think any further, Genette heard the voice again.  Where was it coming from? It was coming from all around her--everywhere.

Genette heard a rapid tapping and screaming coming from a nearby window.  She turned her head and saw a man--her father struggling from outside.  She listened as he screamed to her.  

“Get out, Genette!  Run! He is not your father!”  Genette turned around in a flurry of fear, anger, and confusion.  Then she looked to the man inside with her. Many thoughts ran wild inside her head.  

Darling? My dead father? Mom? Thomas?  WHAT IS ALL OF THIS? Realization overwhelmed Genette, and her “father” slowly began to transform.  His face dried, his eyes shrivelled into nothingness, the pigment of his skin whitened.  Genette suppressed the scream aching to release itself from her mouth. She didn’t know what to do.  Did she really just help the demon that killed her mother and brother and possibly even her father?

The figure spoke the unfamiliar words again.  Curses?  Spells? Genette was frozen in place; she couldn’t move.  She struggled, but she could not muster the strength to move--not even an inch.  She screamed, but nobody was around to hear her. The figure hovered toward Genette.  

“Ah children--always so quick to believe anything they’re told.”

“I am not a child!” she shouted through her dry throat.  

“No?  Then why did you believe you were safe, Darling?  Why does anyone think that the world is a safe place?”  

Point taken.  

The demon spoke his evil words again--the same he had said over Thomas.  Genette felt limp. Her vision faded to nothingness. She heard her mother and Thomas.  Pain and agony gripped at her body--her soul. The last sound Genette heard was a gunshot.