Part One can be found here.

This time, his voice was the sound of the coffin creaking slowly open, to reveal the dirt above where she’d been buried alive. God, it was like some bloody Steven King novel in her head. He was laughing, shoulders shaking, and Martin’s words came back to her. He was trying to scare her, to make her feel weak. It was all an act. ‘And you can’t stop me.’

He moved, without moving, and was right in front of her, glaring balefully down. Her heart was racing, her mouth dry like ashes. She screwed up her eyes, muttering, ‘there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.’ She peeked, and whimpered at the face, inches from hers, top lip curled in a sneer. She hadn’t seen him move.

She bit her lip, the taste of blood bringing her back from the brink. She opened her eyes, and stared back. He hadn’t moved, and she could see the lines that ran from the corners of his eyes, the tiny burst blood vessels that crept spider-like across his eyes. He was old, and tired. She glanced round and saw mum, staring at them with wide, frightened eyes. This wasn’t going to happen. Somewhere, far away, her computer was waiting for her to update her status, and there was no way she was missing the chance to talk about this.

‘You smell of fear and weakness, little girl.’

‘Yeah, and you smell of shit, and old age, and hate, and there’s no place for you in my world.’

His thick eyebrows raised, his snarl growing, but there was something else in his eyes, a flicker that hadn’t been there before. She hoped it was doubt or fear, and not indigestion. ‘We’re leaving here, me and Martin and my mum. You should get rid of the cage now.’

He was going to hit her, like he hit Martin, and he’d rip her head off. She screwed up her face, waiting for the blow. Instead, he spoke. ‘What can you give me for your mother, what do you have to trade?’

‘How about I forget I know your name, once we’re home, and I burn that page?’

The demon cocked his head to one side, nodding slowly. ‘That might be enough.’

Was he bluffing? Martin had said his name was power and… what exactly had he said? Dammit, it was either that she had, like, complete control, or just that it was quite useful. She couldn’t remember which. Sod it. She thrust her chin out and stared at him. ‘How about I say it’s enough, and you say ‘thank you’?’

The demon hissed, raising a hand. She stood still, her legs shaking so hard she expected to topple over at any moment. Then he stepped back, and waved a hand. Mum’s shouts exploded into the room as she charged over. ‘Get the hell away from my daughter!’

The demon turned to her, hand raised again, and time seemed to slow down. Scarlet saw his clenched fist begin to move, and heard her own voice, long before her brain caught up. ‘NO!’ It came from deep within her and carried something, power, like the smell before a storm.

He froze, turning slowly to face her, lips drawn back in a snarl. ‘You dare command me?’

Next instalment: Monday 4 November

Part One can be found here.

He shook his head. ‘There’s no way we can open this. It was created by the demon, and only he can unmake it.’

‘Why imprison someone in somewhere they can never get out of?’

Martin looked at her, eyebrows raised. She spread her hands apart. ‘What? Come on, really, even when they say you have a life sentence, you still get released after, like, ten years. It’s ridiculous. Surely if he brought her here, it was for a reason, not just to leave her in a cage?’ She was shouting, and turned back to mum, putting her hands out. It was freaky her being in there, still shouting, still silent, and she had the sudden need to hug her, which was even freakier.

‘I think that life sentence means something a little different here. But as dramatic as it sounds, unmaking the cage would be the act of a simple thought for the demon that resides within this castle, easier than turning a key.’

She nodded. ‘So, what, we have to find him?’

Martin glanced around the large hall, brow furrowed. When he turned back to her, she winced at the look on his face. ‘I don’t wish to sound negative, nor do I suggest we shouldn’t do this, but finding the demon may prove to be a very foolish move. He is powerful, and we have nothing, no bargaining chip, no reason why he shouldn’t just imprison us also.’

‘So why did mum come here in the first place?’

Martin shrugged. ‘That would be very useful to know, but the prison does more than trap her body, it retains every part of her essence, hence why we cannot hear her voice.’

‘Did you actually just say ‘hence’?’

He nodded, looking offended, then shook his head and looked around the room. She pulled out the spell book, leafing through to the page she had stopped on, and scouring it. Surely there would be something in there to give away why mum thought she would be safe here. ‘So, what sort of things could we use to bargain with?’

Martin held his hand out, ticking things off on his fingers. ‘First, ourselves. They want humans, more than anything, so you could trade yourself for your mum.’

She snorted, and felt instantly guilty. Martin ignored her and went on. ‘You could have some sort of magical artifact, something that possessed power. You could have information; knowledge of something the demon is interested in. Of course, if you know its name, you have a real advantage. It isn’t a guarantee, but it gives you a good head start.’

He peered over her shoulder, just as she turned the page, and they were presented with a word that made her want to be sick. It was written in English, but the letters writhed and twisted on the paper, as though they needed to escape. She began to read it and he clapped his hand over her mouth. Ow, that hurt. ‘Ow, that hurt, what the hell?’

‘That is his name. We are most fortunate, but once you have read it, he will be here, and we need to be ready when that happens.’ He leant forward until his head was level with hers, and he stared into her eyes. ‘Listen to me, Scarlett, this is important. He will try everything to convince you he is in control, that he can do whatever he wants, and he will terrify you.’

She sniffed. ‘Not sure there’s much that will scare me after that fog stuff.’

He shook his head. ‘The fog, the noises, were nothing compared to him, trust me. He is pure evil, squashed into some semblance of a living being, but evil nonetheless. Just remember, you have his name. You are in control.’

Next instalment: 30 October

Part One can be found here.

He handed her the book, open to the page. ‘Simple. Read the words, and think about your Mum. Also, hold my hand.’

He held out his dirt-stained fingers and she made a face, then let her hand rest on his. He closed around it, squeezing it tight and she had to work hard to not pull away. She read, sounding each word out carefully. Surely they just made it up as they went along, this was complete gibberish.

The sage was lit, and the room filled with a nose-itching tang that made her fidget. A light came up from the floor, like the dodgy sunken spots they had in clubs. It grew stronger, until the entire room was glowing, pale blue. It was getting more like a club every second. She half expected to be barged in the back by some cow with a beer and a glow stick, then she squeezed her eyes closed as it became brighter still.

‘Step forward, Scarlet, step through the light.’

His voice was different, stronger, clearer, and she moved as he told her, nervous steps until the soft carpet vanished and she heard the click of her shoes on stone. The light went, just like that, and she blinked, looked around, and yelped.

They were in a valley. Sharp slopes of stone, dotted with dull scrubby bushes rose on both sides. She shivered. Why the bloody hell hadn’t she brought a coat? The path they stood on looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie, winding and sunken, and heading into the gloom of the narrowing canyon. The sky above was the same colour as the floor, and felt just as close.

She sniffed. There was a smell she couldn’t place. Something like the Chem labs at school, only with the vaguest hint of cheap perfume. So just like the labs then. She turned and jumped again.

His raggedy clothes were gone, replaced by dark, rich leather that fit like a glove. Her worst fears were true. He was buff, like, really hot. His hair was tousled and disturbingly well-cut. ‘Who are you?’

He chuckled. ‘You’ve already asked me that. My name is—‘

‘Martin, but you can call me sugarplum, blah blah, yeah, you already said that too. OK, what are you?’

He smiled. ‘A better question. I help people, people in the kind of trouble your Mum is in, stuff the police can’t help with.’

‘Why?’

The smile left his face as he shook his head. ‘Some things are best left alone.’

She folded her arms, and stared at him. He stared right back, and she blushed. ‘OK, fine, fair enough. So why did you need me, I mean, couldn’t you just do this yourself?’

He nodded. ‘I could, but what would you have learnt?’

‘Oh for fu—‘

‘Life is growth, Scarlet, growth and change. You mother changed, not so long ago, and found a new life for herself. It was one she didn’t want to share with you, for fear of what it might lead to. Was she right?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. From my experience, the unknown can be far more dangerous than a little knowledge, if that knowledge is taught correctly. You have power, just like your mother, and you needed to be introduced to it.’ He smiled. ‘And, after all, it is your Mum.’

She looked at the floor, then back at him, and nodded. ‘Yeah, guess so. OK, what now?’

He motioned past her down the path. She turned, and sighed. It was dark, the path winding out of sight as the cliffs closed in, and the very sight of it made her shudder. Things never went well in places like this. He set off and she hurried to keep up, falling into step beside him. As the path grew narrow, he slowed, letting her take the lead. Oh joy.

Next instalment: Wednesday 23 October