Young Writers Society

Mia's eyes sparked dangerously. "I knew it," she breathed, "I knew there was something more to it all."

"It's been going on for longer than you'd think," Uncle Fred said heavily. "Your grandmother didn't start it. She, like you, was just beginning to realize our history. And we aren't the only ones. There are others-"

"There's the road!" Monica cried, pointing dead ahead. There was a significant height difference between the dirt road and the highway, and everyone except Fred braced themselves for impact. My mother's car! Finnley yelled inwardly, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing to hear the crunch of metal. With a great heave, the car plowed forward, up and over the bump. Then the car promptly died.

Finnley let himself open his eyes. The car had come out perpendicular to the highway, and was now lying across the road, blocking both lanes. And far on the left, a glimmer of headlights coming towards them.

"Come on," Fred muttered, turning the key again and again. "Come on!"

"It's a truck!" Mia said, fear finally entering her voice. Finnley pinched himself. If this wasn't a dream, what sort of madness was it? His terror and anxiety were building up inside of him, rising like an unstoppable tidal wave. He looked at his faint reflection in the window; he was pale and wide eyed, hair tousled and clothes rumpled. Shakily, he looked away, but his other view was not better in the least.

"Uncle Fred, start the car!" Mia screamed. She braced herself against the door, ready to leap out and abandon the car to the wrath of the oncoming truck.

"I'm not giving up on this car," Finnley said through gritted teeth. It was only after he said that that he realized he truly meant it. Without wasting another second, he shoved open the door and dashed to the front of the car. Fred turned the key again, and Mia stared at him in wide-eyed shock. "Come on you car," Finnley muttered. "Get us out of here!" He gave the hood a mighty thump, and when Fred turned the key one last time, the engine began to shudder to a start, the noise growing to a defiant roar.

"Finnley! Back in the car!" Fred commanded with enough volume to rival the newly started car. The truck's horn began to blare and the headlights were rushing ever closer. Finnley snapped back to the present and darted to his still-open door, throwing himself inside and slamming it shut behind him. Without waiting for everyone to be buckled, Fred floored the pedal once more and the passengers were nearly thrown against each other with the force of his turn, but they were safe in the proper lane once again.

Finnley and Mia were breathing heavily, and they exchanged glances of relief as the truck sped past. Monica had been holding onto the handle in the ceiling with a kind of grim certainty. Finnley didn't blame her; the truck had been bearing down on her side. Now that the present danger had passed, however, their attention was turned back to the task at hand.

"How's that demon looking, Finnley?" Uncle Fred asked, though he was already continuing his wild drive back to their hometown.

Finnley, having completely forgotten his task in all the insanity, stuck his head out the window. What he saw made his heart stutter. "I- I can't see it anymore."

If it were at all possible, Fred appeared to be driving faster. He didn't look away from the road, and his shoulders were pulled in towards the steering wheel, his back not even touching the seat. "That means it's ahead of us," he said grimly.

"That's our exit," Mia called, pointing towards the turn they should take. Fred pulled towards it without question. "That means we're close to home."

Finnley felt cold all over. "And if we're close..."

"That means the demon's probably already there," Monica finished. She glanced sidelong at Finnley, but he focused on what he could see through the window. The streets flew by, and Finnley could've sworn he saw the school, with some girls in brightly colored dresses standing outside of it. How could they be doing something so simple and so stupid when such terrible things were going on?

Fred was turning without help from Mia now, his old memories coming back as he headed towards the place that was once his home. It wasn't until they turned down Mia's street that he saw it.

"No!" Mia screamed, though Fred remained stoically silent, though his jaw was locked. Finnley and Monica both cried out at the sight. There were holes in the roof and some rubble in the street. Black smoke rose in thick, silent droves from all open places. Mia's house was burning.

Uncle Fred drove as close as he dared, them screeched to a halt. Mia was the first to get out of the car, vaulting from her seat and shoving the door open. Her cheeks glistened with tears. "Mia!" Finnley called, scrambling for the door handle and chasing after her. Fred was just a heartbeat behind them. The front door was missing, but wasn't burning, so Mia went straight in. Inside the kitchen, and most of the living room too, the demon was standing in front of Mia's parents, who were pressed up against each other and the wall.

"Mom! Dad!" she cried, running into the room. Finnley started to call after her, but a large hand covered his mouth. It was Fred, telling him to be dead silent. The demon breathed fire, sealing the entrance to the foyer, trapping Mia as well as her parents. Fred pulled Finnley back into the shadows of the staircase, where Monica was waiting.

"What do we do now?" Finnley breathed. In answer, Uncle Fred held up his gun.

"We shoot it," he said with a steel hard determination.

"But how? And what about Mia and her parents?" Finnley demanded.

"There's a heart in that demon," Fred replied, tapping his own chest with two fingers, just above the heart. "The rest is all smoke and ashes, but that heart? It's pure flame."

"How do we get to it?"

It was Monica who answered. "That's where I come in."