The world around me went dark, deep rich dark.  Not a sound could be heard no matter how hard my ears stretch to grasp at any sound near or far.  My family and best friend had just been burned to death in a house overtaken by licking flames and heavy smothering smoke.  Nothing was left to see, the house rested in a pile of what used to be and in it, my allies rested.  

The demon boy had vanished from the roof when it collapsed and seemingly decided to rest his case with this nightmare he left me stuck in.  I had never experienced screams like those that had come from the inside of that house.  The panic on their faces, the pain, agony, it was nauseating.  

Trapped in that universe of despair had left me still unconscious in the corner of my room with an even tighter grip around the letter opener that I clutched thinking this would be my weapon, the weapon that would rescue me from all this horrifying damnation. 

A loud, rapid knocking resonated through the house, I heard it in my nightmare.  Slowly opening my eyes, heavy with tears, my room was empty.  Jennifer and Jackson were gone, off to God knows where.  My walls were still wildly graffitied with the blood of Jennifer from the wounds she had suffered after back-talking the ghost boy. 

I could faintly hear voices downstairs; one of which was panicked and frantic.  It was my English teacher, Mrs. Tannell.  She had acted quickly and rushed over after my tearful call.  My mother was speaking with her, offering drinks and food and television and all the other things a good host would offer to a visitor.  Tannell declined, I think, and the sounds of people climbing the stairs slowly increased in volume as they became closer in proximity to me. 

Rising to my feet, dazed and confused, Mrs. Tannell made one final request.  To any normal parents this request would have seemed odd, perhaps even creepy, considering she had sped up to our house and slid to a stop leaving a plume of smoke enveloping her as she exited her car.

She said, “May I go in alone?  She is working on a very special project and I want to make sure it is up to educational standards, plus, she wants to surprise you all.”

My mother obliged and tattered her way back downstairs making sure she offered everything we had to my English teacher, again.  She was the hostess of all hostess’s and really did enjoy bringing enjoyment to others a great deal.  

The settling of feet at my door was followed by the gentlest rapping upon it.  My voice was hollow and empty, I tried to acknowledge Mrs. Tannell’s call to me, but nothing would flow from my throat.

After knocking on my door once again, she entered and immediately shut the door behind her.  She seemed dumbfounded as her head swiveled, dissecting every inch of my room.  For a woman as educated as Mrs. Tannell, a powerful intelligent teacher that demanded respect and always knew what to say, she sure did seem awestruck by her surroundings.

She said, “Naomi, where did all this blood come from?  What has happened here?”

Her hand was pointing to the walls, my walls that had been painted with the blood of my best friend.  She could see it, all of it.  I dropped the letter opener and rose to my feet, uneasy and off balance.  

“You...you can see all that?  No one else batted an eye.  It was awful Mrs. Tannell, absolutely horrible,” I said.

She grabbed my hands and flipped them palms up.  Mrs. Tunnel had brought a rather large bag with her and dropped it on the floor searching for something.  After a few seconds, she pulled out some gauze and rubbing alcohol.  After she wrapped my wounds, she told me to close my eyes and count to three.  There was nothing I was afraid of more than closing my eyes again.  What if I became trapped in the nightmare again? 

My eyes fluttered shut and I slowly began counting to three.  As I was counting, I could hear Mrs. Tannell rummaging through her bag.  A lite tapping danced over my palms and before I knew it, I had gotten to the number three.  The entire instance really went by rather quickly so when I did not feel the rubbing alcohol burning my palms it really had not registered in my head that something may have been happening.

“Open your eyes Naomi,” she said.

Baffled but amazed, my eyes met my palms only to see that my deep lacerations had been completely erased and replaced with healthy looking flesh.  My mind lost its ability to form coherent thoughts, so I just reached out and hugged Mrs. Tannell with all my might.  She wasn’t a terror; she was a savior.  That moniker just did not have the same ring as her common nickname. 

Not only had she healed my accidental self-inflicted wounds, but she had also brought reality back to the supernaturally doomed room.  All the blood, Jennifer’s blood, had vanished from the landscape.  It was as if Mrs. Tannell had given me a set of glasses that only let me see what was real and blocked out the paranormal.

I said, “What will happen to Jennifer and Jackson?  My mother and father?  The gray eyes and changed behaviors, will they be okay?” 

Mrs. Tannell looked down towards her overstuffed bag and frowned.  I knew what this meant even though she had not said anything in response.  Maybe this was beyond her capabilities.  She was obviously gifted with some supernatural abilities and maybe this inquiry would require someone with more advanced skills.

“Naomi, once a demon has attacked and taken a life in his world, there isn’t much that I can do about it.  I will have to make some calls and see if we can figure out a plan.  It does seem though, that you and I are the only ones that can see the scars and eyes for what they are.  No one else can see it unless they too have some sort of ability,” she said.

As my mind began to settle slightly, Mrs. Tannell flinched at something.  It was the faintest of sounds, but it seemed as if it had grabbed her by a sore tooth and yanked back.  The room darkened and grew into a tunnel of hatred.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tannell the Terror.  Here to save the day old woman?  Sorry to tell you this but you’ve never met someone as powerful and determined as me,” it said. 

Mrs. Tannell smiled and turned around to face the direction the voice was coming from.  Fear did not fill her body, it fueled her.  Apparently, she had a reputation in the ghost world like how most people felt about her in the real world. 

She said, “Oh little boy, an invisible bully.  Too scared to show yourself in my presence?  You have to pick on vulnerable children and then hide in the shadows when a more powerful being comes along.” 

The room began to rumble, not like an earthquake but like when your music is turned up loud and the bass is at full capacity.  An energy was brewing, good or evil, I had no idea.  Mrs. Tannell did not react in any sort of retreating or regretful way, so I assumed we were safe, regardless of what was happening.   

Suddenly, the image of a small boy manifested itself standing in the middle of my small room.  Face to face with Mrs. Tannell, she laughed at him.  That did not seem like the smartest idea, but she was the professional apparently and I was merely the victim. 

She said, “You’re a very small little boy.  Look at you, what a cute little turtleneck you have on.  Did your mom pick it out for you?” 

The demon began to glow a hot red, sparks outlined his body and gave him a deep ominous look about him.  Mrs. Tannell still did not flinch at this.  She looked as if she were watching an action movie, enjoying every second of it. 

“You can’t protect this family forever Tannell.  Trust me.  This is my house, and this is my family to torment now,” it said. 

She reached down into her bag as the demon boy jumped and barked at her.  From it, she pulled out a small pendant that hung from a thin silver necklace.  The demon boy recoiled back into the far wall and hissed like a rattlesnake warning potential predators away.

“With this, this necklace, Naomi will never have to fear you.  Her world will remain the way it was before you made your unwelcome visit.  You may still live here, as long as I allow it, but you’ll never be able to harm this family again,” she said.

Mrs. Tannell turned and wrapped her arms around my neck.  She whispered words of confidence in my ear and finalized the clasping of the necklace.  The pendant hung heavy on my neck, way heavier than it appeared.  The power that was stored in this piece of jewelry was magnanimous.  The world felt as if it were a small puppy dog and all it wanted to do was play, eat, and sleep.  This was a very wild transformation from the dragon it had felt like previously.  

“I’ve seen that before Tannell.  We are developing methods for artifacts like that.  Guess you’ll find out when we are ready to strike,” it said. 

The demon boy disappeared quickly with a frustrated roar.  There was nothing he could do now with Mrs. Tannell here.  She was his kryptonite, the thorn in his side.  

Now, how would things go without Mrs. Tannell here to protect me?  

“For whom dream in darkness dwells before eternal death.”

― D.L. Lewis