Every kid has problems. Every kid has even more problems when they move to a new home. But when a kid with problems moves to a new home that has a Demon living inside it—look out!
Etta’s world is about to spin out of control when she encounters her new roommate—and Rahovart, that ancient trickster, is in for a few surprises too. So don’t mind all the crashing and rumbling; that’s just the normal noise Angels and Demons make when they’re fighting an epic war in the attic.
One thing’s for sure: Etta and Rahovart will have to go through Hell to Heaven and back again before that old Victorian home in Quantico Town finally quiets down…
“Don’t you dare,” Etta said, but before she could get up. I had already caught up to her dad. Flashes of Etta screaming, blood, hospital rooms, and pain filled Mr. Divad. Of everything a forty-something-year-old Marine could have possibly gone through, all he saw was his daughter’s pain? Oh, there must have been something else going on. Viewing the flashes, I stopped at one that I had seen before. I watched the scene play out.
Etta lay in a crimson red bath water. Her tears fell on her bleeding wrists. Etta’s mom screamed “John!” over and over again. Then Mr. Divad, John Divad, in a white tank top and light blue boxer shorts, barreled into the poorly lit stale beige bathroom. I paused John’s thoughts to better examine the details. Over the toilet was a small window. On the other side of the window blazed my Hell. Darkness streaked by flames, but in that Hell, a face stared in through the glass, smiling. I didn’t need to see any more.
Popping out of John, I met Etta’s angry glare. She didn’t need to say a word. I walked to our room and took my spot in the attic just above the closet, where I enjoyed watching rats burrow and build little homes for themselves. One of my favorite pastimes was to put a couple of them in an empty box, let them starve for a bit, and then throw a scrap of food in and watch as they tore each other apart. They were my little minions, always great for a scare. One of my favorite tricks involved dropping one on the dining room table during a dinner party. But there would be no playing with the rodents tonight.
The face in window bothered me. If the Divads had already experienced a Demon, it could pose a serious problem for me. That would also explain not seeing any attacker in Etta’s thoughts. Demons aren’t the same as ghosts. First off, ghosts aren’t real. Second, Demons are bound to an item, person, or property. Demons have the option of following a family or person if we choose, moving from one house to another, continually torturing a person. It’s a rare occurrence, but if one is lucky enough to find a person or place that either generates enough fear or is so despicably horrible to fuel the power needed to exist on Earth, then you can bet he wouldn’t just let them waltz out of his life. Another problem is that no two Demons can occupy the same place or own the same person. If the Divads had in fact lived with a Demon before, I might be getting a very unwelcome guest.
Although he would own whichever family member he attached to, I would rightfully own this property. Should the unwelcome guest appear, we would have to fight for both. I had no interest in a turf war, but I wouldn’t give up my home so some other jerk could move right in. My only hope was that, like me, he’d decided to stay at Etta’s last home and torment the next family. To be safe, I had to get rid of the Divads, and soon.