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DEMON IN THE BASEMENT

Copyright © 2009 Anastasia Rabiyah. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN 978-1-936165-03-2

Cover Art Designed By Anastasia Rabiyah

Edited By D. Thomas-Jerlo

Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC

www.PurpleSword.com


Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.












Demon in the Basement

By

Anastasia Rabiyah










Dedicated to Binnie Betten for finding the humor in Emme.




Chapter One: Salt




Emme found the demon in the basement, curled in on himself under a pile of crumpled newspapers. Someone had drawn a circle around him with a heavy layer of salt. She edged closer to the white, patchy line and frowned. With time, the humidity made the granules crust together. “I’ll have to get down on my hands and knees and scrape it with a putty knife,” she muttered.

The newspapers rustled, and she saw one black eye in the shadows between the pages. A ticklish sensation ran down her skin, the length of her limbs, and lingered in her breasts, perking her nipples. She gasped, startled. “Oh, not yet then,” she whispered. “There’s too much to do. I don’t have time for demons right now.” She twisted a lock of straight, black hair around her finger and let it go, the tendril falling back into place. The narrow woman spun around. She started sweeping again, trying to ignore the burning urge to stare at the being occupying the room with her.

The cobwebs in the corner of the basement were the worst part. Spiders frightened her. She squealed when a black widow scrambled across the dusty, wooden floor. “Oh, oh, oh!” she kept repeating. Behind her, the newspapers crackled, and she felt the demon watching, his hot gaze glancing over her backside like sweaty palms. Emme flailed her hands in the air to calm her nerves. She backed away from the black, eight-legged monster and rifled in the pile of discards for a container. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a dry breath, and twisted the lid off a jelly jar. After kneeling, she swept the spider into the jar with the dustpan, careful not to squish it. “There now.”


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