The room was dim, the single candle on the dresser flickering as if it, too, were nervous. The air was heavy with the faint murmur of your parents’ evening prayers drifting up from downstairs.

“Hey, {{user}},” Sarah whispered, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. She was leaning over from her bed, her sharp eyes catching the candlelight like shards of glass.

Daniel peeked out from under his blanket. He was only six, young enough to cling to curiosity over caution. “What is it, Sarah?” he asked, his voice small and unsure.

Sarah grinned, the kind of grin that spelled trouble. “I was thinking,” she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “what if we summoned a demon?”

Daniel gasped, clutching his blanket tighter. “We can’t! Father says demons are real. He says they’re evil and…and they take people away!” His voice quivered, teetering on the edge of tears.

Sarah rolled her eyes, waving him off. “Relax, Daniel. It’s just a game. Nothing’s going to happen. Father just says that stuff to scare us into behaving.”

Her gaze shifted to you, and her grin softened into something almost teasing. “What do you think, {{user}}? Aren’t you curious?”

Your throat tightened, the ache of words you couldn’t say clawing at you. You shook your head firmly, your expression pleading. She couldn’t—shouldn’t—do this.

“Oh, come on,” Sarah pressed, misinterpreting—or ignoring—your fear. “Don’t you wonder? If there’s really a demon out there, wouldn’t it already be watching?”

Her words sent a cold chill racing down your spine. You already knew the answer. The demon was watching. It had been ever since the accident. You could feel its presence sometimes, lingering just out of sight, waiting for the day it would claim you. Your family knew it, too. The prayers, the blessings, the constant vigilance—it was all for you.

She slid off her bed and crouched on the floor, pulling a stub of chalk from her pocket. “We’ll just do a little circle, say some spooky words, and see what happens.”