“That would explain why the phone was never found,” Sam says slowly. “And why there were ashes on the floor of Patrick’s apartment. These nightmares...they’re not happening inside their heads. They’re actually happening.”
“Yes. Hector’s worst fear was being killed by witches and he actually was by some sort of manifestation the demon created, right down to a murder weapon. He fed off of his fear until there was nothing left and when he spit him back out, the weapon he created came with.”
“I bet if we tested that thing it would be off the charts with EMF,” Ethan adds.
“I’m confused,” Laney says apologetically.
“We’ve been looking in the wrong place for this demon,” I start. “It’s not some sort of psychic monster that’s controlling nightmares. It’s pulling its victims into its own dimension and making their worst fears play out in real time.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“Well, fuck,” Harrison says, blue eyes meeting mine. “What the hell can do that?”
“Not a sleep demon,” Ethan tells him. “There are other demons, that are a hell of a lot more powerful, who can cause hallucinations like that. Ones that seem pretty damn real.”
“If this demon is pulling people into his own plane of existence, then he’s taken it one step further than hallucinations,” Nik says. “You’re not just imagining getting attacked, you actually are.” He shudders. “Goodness, the fear would be off the charts. And if you’re a demon who feeds on that, it’s prime feasting.”
“But what happened roughly six weeks ago that triggered it to start attacking?” I let out a breath. “If we can figure that out, we’ll figure out who this demon is and hopefully how to kill it.”
“When portals or rifts are open, it leaves a mark on the earth,” Ethan says, pulling his phone from his pocket. “If Patrick was pulled into some sort of dimension, watched his worst fears quite literally play out, and then was spit back into our realm once his energy was sucked up, there should still be traces of high EMF around the place.”
“Electromagnetic field?” Laney questions and I nod. “I thought that only spiked up from ghosts.”
“And a lot of supernatural creatures can cause both a spike or depression of EMF,” Sam explains. “Some have to use electromagnetic energy to manifest. That’s why spirits have a tendency to make you feel tired or take your phone from fifty percent to five-percent in a manner of minutes. Demons can do that too, but with much greater intensity. They can also focus what kind of energy they’re taking. Like an incubus,” she says pointedly, flicking her gaze to Ethan. “feeds on sexual energy, and the demon we’re dealing with feeds off the energy released when someone is terrified.”
“Exactly,” I say, getting to my feet. “And I’m wondering, what if the demon is taking its victim into its reality because it can’t come here.”
“Because they’ve been locked up.” Ethan lowers his phone, eyes meeting mine.
“Right. And like Asaroth, they’re figuring out a way to get out,” I say and remember that Tabatha said pocket dimensions don’t break apart over time, but she didn’t say anything about the door weakening if someone on the inside repeatedly hit it.
Sam’s phone rings, and seeing it’s Julia, Ethan grabs it from her and answers.
“Hey, Jules. I was just about to call you. Did anyone happen to check Patrick’s apartment for EMF?” We all wait, watching his face go slack.
“What?” Sam asks impatiently and Ethan swats her away.
“Oh, shit,” he says into the phone. “Well, that fucking fits. Okay. I’ll text you later.” He ends the call and gives Sam her phone back. “Jules thinks she found more victims. Miles the historian wasn’t the first, but another hunter a few miles south of here. He wasn’t an Order member, but knew enough other hunters that they were able to cover up his death. It was only a few days after Thanksgiving,” he explains as he opens an email from Julia. “You know in the medieval days, they were big into torture. One preferred method of punishing the guilty was to tie their hands and legs to horses and then have them run in separate directions, pulling them apart.”
“Ahh yes,” Nik says. “That was not a particularly bright time in human history.”
“Well, this guy, Joe Peterson, was a medieval history buff. Collected all sorts of shit. And was found pulled into pieces inside a cabin in the woods. Doors were locked, no windows were broken. His friends assumed it was a demon, made sure the death was written off as an animal attack, and went looking for said demon.”
Ethan opens another email. “Which leads us to our next victim, killed at the end of December. Hunter number two to die, and Monica Smith’s cause of death was in fact a heart attack, but she had tire marks over her body, like she’d been run over by a car.” He pulls up a photo of the crime scene, and I can clearly see the tire tracks on her face. She’s in her bathtub, water having long gone cold before anyone found her body.