As the evening got late and the two men got tired from their studies, it was time to make the sleeping arrangements. It wasn't easy to get through the logistics of it all, so that everyone involved would feel safe and comfortable. But in the end Simon was put into Angela's bedroom while Angela (and Snuggles) got to sleep with Lauren in the master bedroom, and David would man his post on the sofa again. He lied down on it after turning off the lights, with his head resting on the pillow and his arms between them. And closed his eyes.

He thought about the things he had discussed with Simon in the evening. His idea about the spirits of the dead being able to spot demons... it was a bit far fetched. But the other thing could be a clue. When demons could be spotted by their humans doing evil things, then someone could just have been watching. Knowing what they were doing, recognizing what they were... and lurking in the shadows until the right moment to strike.

He opened his eyes again - and saw Simon standing over him. With a sinister look on his face.

"We need to talk," the man said. David didn't like the undertone in his voice.

He sat up on the sofa, put aside the blanket. "Simon? What is it?"

"This investigation of yours..." Simon's voice seemed to have an uncanny ring to it, like it echoed in David's head. But maybe it was just him being awake for just a second. "Are you sure you want to go through with it? It may lead to something that neither of us would like."

 "What do you mean?" David asked, suddenly feeling a cold shiver going down his back.

It didn't help that Simon just stood there with his arms crossed and didn't seem to be like this gentleman that he brought home with him. Something... was different about him this time. There was a darkness that seemed to radiate from him, something hard to describe, but David could feel it. It didn't feel like the man he had met before. And it didn't sound like him either.

"The demons. They might not be those scary monsters that books and tales make of them, but they are still full of power... and hate. They might find out what you're up to, they may even fear that you expose them to the world. And that cannot happen."

That last sentence... David had a really bad feeling about this. It was awfully quiet in the house and outside. No crickets chirping, no wind blowing in the trees, nothing. Like this moment didn't even exist in time. Like he was completely alone. "What are you saying?"

"This cannot happen," Simon repeated. Slowly he raised his hand. The blade of a long kitchen knife blinked in the moonlight. "Even if I have to stop you..."

David reacted fast. He had reached under his pillow and now pulled his hand out in a quick move. With his gun in it, aiming at Simon's head. "You're not going to stop anything." He looked around, listened around, without letting the other man out of sight. "What have you done to my family?" The sudden fear for Lauren and Angela overcame him, and he realized that Simon had come from the upstairs without Lauren showing any kind of reaction. "What have you done to them?"

"Oh, don't worry. I just put some rope on them to play with." Simon seemed to grin, a feisty evil grin. "They even seemed to enjoy it a little." And then David could here it faintly in the distance: muffled voices whining and crying for help. It made him furious.

"You bastard! I trusted you. I let you come into my house. I let you sit at my table. And this is how you thank me? I should put a bullet in you right where you stand."

Simon wasn't the least bit impressed. "You don't have that in you," he said calmly, but even his calm voice sounded threatening. "We both know that. You have never killed anyone before. But I have."

David pulled the hammer on his gun back. "Don't push me!"

"Or what?" Simon snorted. "You are weak. Your body is weak, your mind is weak. Trying to wrestle with forces that you cannot remotely comprehend. You think you can change anything? Make anything better? You can't even protect your own family, let alone an entire city. You don't have it in you, you pathetic excuse for a cop!"

This wasn't Simon's voice anymore. This wasn't Simon anymore. David couldn't explain it, but there was something in this appearance. It looked like Simon, had all his physical attributes, but... it still wasn't him. "Who are you?" This couldn't be true. "What are you?"

The thing that posed as Simon seemed surprised by that question, or by the fact that David understood. For a second it stepped back, only to come forth again, meaner and more dangerous than before. "Something that you cannot fight."

David pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the entire house, rang in his ears. The flash of the muzzle was so bright that he had to close his eyes for the fracture of a second. When he opened them, Simon was gone.

Instead it was Angela standing in front of him. "Daddy?" she asked. Her voice broke. Her face got pale. She stood there, in shock, looking at him... and the gun he had just fired.

Then she fell to the floor.

And David jumped up, ran over to her. "No!" he screamed. "Angela! Angela!" He held his little daughter in his arms. Her skin grew colder and colder, and she looked at him with her big expressive eyes, now full of sorrow... and blame. "Daddy..." she whispered weakly. "Why..." He did not dare to look down on her, but he could feel it. The warm liquid that started to soak her nightgown. He looked in his daughters face as she faded away from him.

"No, no, no... Angela!" The tears streamed down his face as his heart broke into a million pieces. "Angela! ANGELA!"

"Dad?"

He opened his eyes. Bright sunlight shone through the windows in the living room. Angela was standing in front of him, fully dressed in jeans and her favourite green pullover that showed the silhouette of a yellow lion on it. She had a worried look on her face. "Daddy, what is it?"

He blinked, as he realized he was just awakening. With one hand he tried to rub the sleep of his face and found that he was soaked in sweat. "Angela?" he asked confused.

"Yes." Angela's worries grew visibly stronger. "Daddy, what's wrong? I heard you call my name, over and over again."

"It's... nothing. Come here, pumpkin!" He sat up and opened his arms, and Angela ran up right into them. He was so relieved to see her alive and well that he hugged her for half an eternity. Or at least until she uttered: "Ew! Dad, you're all wet!" She took a sniff and squinched her face. "Yuck! And smelly."

"Sorry, sweety!" David let go of her. "I guess I should hit the shower. You know what time it is?"

Angela nodded. "I'm almost off to school. Mum had to go early, so Simon has made some eggs."

Simon!

David was wide awake all of a sudden. He felt under the pillow on the couch and found that his service gun was in fact still lying under it. "Honey, don't go anywhere near Simon! You hear me? He is a bad man."

He was used to Angela obeying his every command, the few he gave her anyway. But this time she just shook her head. "No, he's not such a bad man. He just wants people to think that."

"Angela, I don't want you anywhere close to that man, you understand?" David felt that he was about to raise his voice. He couldn't have his daughter disobey him now or argue with him. But finally, Angela nodded. "Good. Now go to school, honey!"

As the girl opened the front door and trotted outside, still a bit shaken by her dad's rough tone, he pulled the gun out of its hideout and checked the clip. It was fully loaded. He pulled the slide back to load the first bullet into the chamber, switched the safety off and held the gun in both hands while he cautiously moved towards the kitchen door. He could hear Simon ruckusing around behind that door. 

And with a last deep, determinated breath he pushed the door open, launched into the kitchen, held his gun up and aimed. "Freeze!" he yelled.

Simon stood at the stove, a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. He looked a bit surprised and confused, but otherwise calm as ever. "Hello there," he greeted him relaxed. "Would you like some eggs?"

The image of this man attacking him and his daughter dying in his arms flashed before David's eyes. "You!" he hissed. "You... stay away from my daughter!"

"Okay then..." Simon answered with a frown. "So... no eggs?"

The rush of adrenaline through David's veins came to a halt. The images stopped flashing, as he came back to his senses. He still wasn't fully awake, he realized. And what he had experienced before must have been just a bad dream. After all, he had just hugged his living and breathing daughter before she had left for school. And Simon was the same person as yesterday - his old charming and forthcoming self. David calmed down.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and put down the gun. "I don't know what came over me. It's just..." He remembered that Simon had asked him something. "Ehm... yes to eggs. Please!"

Simon nodded and put a large portion of scrambled eggs upon a freshly toasted slice of bread. David sat down at the table where the cutlery was already put into place, along with a glass and a mug. Orange juice and a pot with coffee stood right in his reach. He noticed that Angela's dish was still standing in her place. Some tiny rests of scrambled egg were still visible on her plate.

"You made Angela eat scrambled eggs for breakfast?" he then asked Simon when he was served his portion on the plate. "She hates those."

Simon considered this for a moment. Then he shrugged - in a way that conveyed something like Guess I am even more awesome than I thought. But aloud he just said "You seemed to have a tough night. We heard you calling out for Angela here, so she went to look after you."

David took a big sip of hot, black coffee and felt that the caffeine started to reinvigorate him. "I had a tough night, yes. And a bad dream. A very bad dream."

"How bad?"

With a grim look David stared at Simon. "You made me shoot my own daughter."

He still had trouble to come to terms with it. It had been like living his greatest fear ever. But it was nothing that he could blame Simon for. And he knew it. Simon took it pretty well. Like nothing could ever upset him. "And I began to wonder whether you do this every morning, coming into the kitchen with your gun drawn." As David didn't laugh about this, he nodded slightly. "I can understand you're upset then. And of course I will honor your request and keep my distance to Angela. As long as you understand that it was just a dream."

David shook his head. "It must have been more than that. It was so... intense. I never have had a dream that horrifying, that... personal. Like it was trying to scare me off by showing me the thing I fear the most."

He ate a bite of the bread with egg on it and found that it was really surprisingly good. This was worthy of Lauren's cooking actually. When he lowered the fork again, he noticed that Simon was staring at him. For a good five seconds already. "Your demon," Simon then whispered as he came to some sort of conclusion.

Alone David did not understand. "Pardon?"

"Every man has a demon inside," Simon explained. "Even you and me. And I suppose your demon is not too keen about us trying to stop this killer. It will try anything to discourage you from pushing your investigation forward. I guess this won't be the last time something like this dream of yours happens."

"Terrific." David took another sip of coffee and doubted that there was enough of it left in the pot to actually make it through this day. "So what can I do against that?"

"Oh, there's a lot we can do, David," Simon answered with a strange enthusiasm. "For example: We can find this killer and bring him to justice. And to do that, we have to do some real policework first. I am really looking forward to that."

Did he have the same idea that David had. The policeman looked at the convict. "You mean to check the victim's background, if there is any history of senseless cruelty with them?"

"Exactly! Isn't that exciting?" Simon looked eager and happy like a little boy. David couldn't share that sentiment. Police work? Exciting? Nobody in their right mind would put those two words together in one sentence.