The Medium

The news seemed to have little effect on him. "Blunt?" he said, barely breaking his rhythm. "You think he...?" He never finished the sentence but laughed as he continued controlling the demon.

There was only one option left. "Fire!" I yelled at George.

"I can't," he whispered. "It's murder."

"The demon's going to take Jacob's soul if we don't."

George swiped at his sweaty brow and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "He's already dead."

I stared at him in horror. "He may not be alive but he exists. He has thoughts and feelings just as if he were alive. If the demon extracts his soul he'll be nothing."

He shook his head. "There must be another way."

Jacob shouted again. Then he became silent. His mouth fell open in an empty scream and even in the darkness I could see him writhing on the ground, the demon's hand buried inside his chest. Everything around me went still. My mind cleared. I felt like I was floating in a bubble, not quite part of the world anymore but still able to see it, feel it. I had the most startling, amazing clarity all of a sudden.

I knew what I had to do.

I grabbed the pistol, aimed and fired. Finch fell down.

Dead.

"Jesus," George muttered. He crossed himself.

The demon sat back on its haunches and looked around, its hand still buried in Jacob's chest. Jacob kicked out, toppling the demon. He got to his feet but his shoulders sagged. He rubbed his chest.

"The amulet," he rasped as the demon righted itself.

"Hurry."

I ran to Finch's body and rummaged through his pockets, trying to concentrate on my task and not look at the blood pooling around him. I pulled out a few coins but nothing else. I rolled the body over and tucked my hand inside his shirt. My fingers touched sticky, warm blood and the cool metal of the amulet. The brass felt heavy and solid, reassuring.

"Anytime soon," Jacob said then grunted as the demon slammed its fist into his stomach. He doubled over, clutching his middle.

I pulled the amulet out but didn't remove it from Finch's neck. There was no time. I began to chant the curse Celia had taught me. As if I'd struck it, the demon stopped fighting. A strangled growl bubbled up from its throat. Then it ran towards me.

I paused.

"Don't stop!" Jacob shouted.

The demon kept running, straight at me. I could just make out the dark swirls of shadow where it should have had a face. It still wore the servant's livery but the clothes were ripped, the torn fabric flapping uselessly. I kept chanting.