Soul Sucker

Heather Miller’s POV

Callahan Residence, New Jersey

Friday, March 31, 2023

I awoke in my sleeping bag and looked around the room I was sharing with the other kids. The house was quiet, but there was something wrong.

I could feel the evil as I took a breath. A cold chill ran through my chest as I sat up, and my first thought was of Mom.

I slid out of the room without waking anyone. I looked across the hall to the guest room Mom and Dad were using. The door was open, but no one was there. They were probably still down by the pool.

I’d learned to go downstairs without making a noise from the wooden stairways in Grandma’s house. I did it by habit now, reaching the bottom without giving away my presence. If I catch Mom and Dad bumping uglies again without them noticing me, I’ll go back to my room.

I didn’t feel like this the other times, though. The hairs on the back of my neck stuck up as I checked around the living room.

The dining room and kitchen were dark and empty. It felt like when Cassie and I stayed up late watching horror movies on her phone under the covers. All that was missing was the music.

And then I saw her feet sticking out from behind the dining room chairs. “Mom?”

I ran across the dining room to where she was lying. Mom was naked and breathing but didn’t react after I touched her shoulder. “Mom, are you all right?”

I moved until I was in front of Mom. Her fear-filled eyes looked at me before looking outside again. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Dad was lying motionless on a lounger by the hot tub while Mom bounced up and down on his waist. She looked exactly like Mom, but Dad wasn’t participating in the sex. He was lying there like he couldn’t move.

Just like Mom here on the floor.

I put my hand over my mouth to keep a scream from getting out. If Mom was here, the woman out there must be the source of the evil breeze in the air. “Is that the succubus?” Mom couldn’t respond. Dad taught us that a succubus could paralyze a victim with venom, and there was only one way to kill it. “I’m getting the dagger.”

I ran upstairs and into Dad’s room. The first time they broke into Dad’s place, my great-Grandpa had the dagger. He crafted a leg sheath so Dad could carry it under his clothing. I unzipped the bag and found it on top. I gripped the handle and pulled it loose. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, but it was different now. I could feel its hunger in my gut.

I ran out of the room, knowing I was the only one who could do this. Dad trained me to get close, strike fast and straight, then get away. “I’ve got this,” I told Mom as I hid the dagger behind my arm. “I love you, Mom.”

I yanked the sliding glass open and ran outside while pretending to cry. “MOMMY!” The succubus froze and looked my way. “I had a nightmare!” A second later and I was next to them. I shifted my grip and thrust forward, burying the dagger in her side.

The woman changed into her demon form, but I went flying before I could get away. All I felt was pain as I rolled onto the pool cover. I tried to get up, but the pool cover was like being in a foam pit, and my left arm hurt a lot. I had to scoot on my butt, then roll to my hand and knees onto the patio.

Fake Mom wasn’t there. Instead, a pale red-haired teenager was bleeding out onto the stamped concrete. The bloody dagger lay by her side.

The weird feelings were gone. The evil in the air was gone, and the dagger was again just a piece of metal. I grabbed a towel and knelt by the strange woman. She was bleeding badly from my stab wound and another wound on her chest. “Let me help you,” I whispered.

“I wish to die,” she moaned through the pain.

“It’s over now,” Heather said. “The demon is gone.” I pressed the towel hard against the wound, remembering what I’d learned in my First Aid course in Girl Scouts.

“Thank you.”

She started coughing, and blood was on her lips. This wasn’t good. I had to keep her calm. “What is your name?”

“Frances… Frances Dortmund.” Her eyes rolled back, and she passed out.

“WHAT THE… Cathy, help Mary,” Terry said as he got downstairs. He ran through the open door. “What happened? Shit, Heather, you’re hurt!”

“She’s hurt worse,” I told him.

“Cathy, call 911!”

“NO!” He looked at me funny. “You can’t.”

“What do you mean? She needs an ambulance!”

“The police can’t know what happened tonight. Dad would tell you the same thing.”

He looked over at the lounge, where Dad was lying still but breathing. “Is this that demon crap from the journal?”

“Yes! Take her to the hospital NOW. I’ll be fine until Mom and Dad wake up.”

He looked around at his two helpless friends, their helpless daughter, and the stranger bleeding on his patio. Would he trust me or call the cops?

“Cathy, go start my car and open the back door. We’re taking her to the emergency room.” He looked at me. “Hold a towel over that.”

He quickly tied towels over the bleeding wounds and picked Frances up. Cathy had raced ahead of him to open the door to the garage. I heard them leave a minute later. Meanwhile, I went over to Dad and draped a towel over him. The towel draped over his thing like a circus tent, but at least I didn’t have to look at it. “Dad? Are you all right?”

He blinked once, and I could see the relief in his eyes. “Stay here.” I snickered because it wasn’t like he had a choice. I kept pressing on my scratches while I got up to check on Mom.

Cathy had moved her so she was on her back in front of the window. I could see the relief in her eyes, then the worry about the blood. I held her hand as she started to come around. In five more minutes, she was able to stand. Dad would be a few minutes behind. “Let’s see that arm,” Mom said.

My left shoulder hurt a lot, and I couldn’t move the arm without pain. “I think you dislocated your shoulder. Those cuts are pretty shallow, but you might need stitches.” She looked out to where Dad was sitting up. “I’m going to throw on some clothes, and then we’ll get you looked at.”

“What about Dad?”

“He can stay here with the other kids until the Callahan's return.”

She kissed my forehead before going upstairs. Dad came in a few minutes later. He was wearing his swim trunks and had the dagger and Mom’s bikinis in his hands. “I’m sorry you had to see that, honey.”

“It was like you said, Dad. I did what I had to do.”

“I’m proud of you, baby.” He sat in the chair and looked into my eyes. “You’re going to need a cover story.”

I thought about it for a minute. “I slipped on the stairs and got cut by the dog cage?”

“That works for you, but I hope Terry comes up with something good.”

“Frances had two stab wounds, Dad, and I only got her once. How?”

“I don’t know, honey. I’ll have to do some research unless Miss Dortmund survives to tell us.”

“Why didn’t you fight back? Couldn’t you tell it wasn’t Mom?”

He let out a breath. “As soon as our lips met, I knew it wasn’t your Mom. She bit me, and I couldn’t move to stop anything.”

“You better apologize for being with another woman.” I saw the terror in his eyes as Mom came down the stairs. Dad helped buckle me into Mom’s car, and we were off.

I needed fifteen stitches, and they had to ‘reduce’ my shoulder to pop it back in. It hurt a lot even after the shot they gave me to deaden the pain, and I had to keep my arm in a sling for three weeks. Mom said we’d go straight home, which was fine by me. I missed most of the sleepover and couldn’t swim or spar with a bad flipper.

My spring break was over before it started!

Mom had to wake me up when we got home. She left the car outside and held my hand as we walked to the front door. "I'm going to bed," I said as I walked .

“So nice of you to join us, Mrs. Miller. You too, Heather.”

The man at the top of the stairs was in his forties with light hair and striking blue eyes.

And he was pointing a gun at us.