The demon is green, slimy, with fierce yellow eyes, four long arms with claws at the ends, a mouth full of fangs. There’s something wolfish about its face, long and lean, with patches of hair here and there.

The demon whips Emmet off the ground. He screams, not having to fake it, caught off-guard. Salit falls backwards, yelling with genuine horror.

My world goes red with fear. I’m thrown back in time… that night in the cellar… earlier… my old home… walking into my parents’ bedroom to find Lord Loss, Vein and Artery at work. Feeling the exact same thing in my gut now as I did then.

The demon screeches and vanishes back underground, carrying Emmet with it. There’s a moment of hush. Then Emmet’s face appears, sheer terror in his expression. “Help!” he cries. “For the love of—”

Blood erupts around him, shooting up through the hole like a geyser. The howl of the demon drowns out his final words. His eyes go wide, then dead. As his head slumps, the demon pulls and Emmet disappears again, this time forever.

It all happened so swiftly, I’m in a state of shock. So’s everybody else. Stunned silence. People with hands over their mouths and disbelief in their eyes. I sense screams building in a dozen throats, ready to erupt at once, a chorus of terror.

“Now that’s what I call a death scene!” Davida Haym roars triumphantly, shattering the spell of fear. “Cut! Did you get that? You’d better have! We’ll never top that take!”

And suddenly everybody’s laughing, relief flooding through them. They thought for a few seconds that the demon was real, that Emmet was really being attacked. Now the moment has passed and they’ve remembered—this is make-believe, horrific fun, a movie. They’re embarrassed at having been caught out, but since so many of the others reacted the same way, they’re not left feeling too red-faced.

“I told you!” Dervish laughs, clapping loudly. “Wasn’t that the most vicious, coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“My heart!” Juni gasps, fanning her face with one hand. “I didn’t expect it all to happen so fast!”

“That was amazing!” Bill-E exclaims. “Did you see it, Grubbs? That spray of blood—like it was coming from a fireman’s hose! It was… Grubbs? Are you OK? Hey, Dervish, I think there’s something wrong with Grubbs. He looks like…”

I block out Bill-E’s words and the other sounds. I experienced the same sense of terror that many of the people around me felt. The same jolt of fear. The same moment of belief that this was real. But whereas they’ve got over that moment, I can’t.

Because I’m remembering the look of the demon. Its movements. The hate in its eyes. The effect it had on me.

And I’m staring at the open manhole, all the blood around it, no sign of Emmet or the monster.

And I’m thinking… every part of me is insisting…

That was no damn guy in a suit.

That demon was real!

“It was just a movie monster,” Dervish says.

“No. It was real. It killed Emmet.”

We’re still in the alley. The blood’s being washed away and people are chattering about the big scene with the demon. I grabbed Dervish as soon as I could move. Told him what I thought. He thinks differently.

“Grubbs, come on, I said it was going to be realistic. You’re—”

“I know what I saw!” I retort, voice rising. “That was a demon, like Lord Loss! It killed Emmet!”

Juni looks at me oddly. Bill-E is gawping openly. Dervish smiles crookedly at them, takes hold of my elbow and marches me out of earshot. “Are you insane?” he hisses as we turn a corner. “We’re on a film set. That was a guy in a costume. A very convincing costume, but just—”

“Don’t tell me you thought that wasn’t real,” I moan. “Didn’t you feel it in your gut, the same thing you felt when we faced Lord Loss? The magic in the air?”

Dervish glares at me. Starts to say something. Stops, his expression softening. “I’ve been a fool. I thought you’d got over the Lord Loss incident, but I guess you haven’t.”

“Of course I haven’t ‘got over’ it!” I snort. “You don’t ‘get over’ demons murdering your parents and sister! But I’ve dealt with it. Moved on. This isn’t delayed shock. I know what I saw and that was a real bloody demon.”

“You’re hysterical,” Dervish says.

“No,” I snarl. “Look at me. Look into my eyes. I’m not being a big kid. That. Was. A. Demon. Nobody can mimic the look and movements—the aura—of a real demon. I don’t care how many special-effects artists work on it. Some things can’t be replicated, by anybody, ever.”

“Grubbs…” Dervish can’t think of anything else to add.

“Where’s Emmet?” I challenge him. “If he was acting, why didn’t he come out when Davida yelled ‘cut’?”

“They took him away to wash the blood off,” Dervish says.

I shake my head. “I bet you’re wrong. I bet we can’t find him.”

Dervish sighs impatiently. “OK. Let’s go look for Emmet. But!” He raises a finger. “When we find him and you see that he’s unharmed, I want you to accept it. I don’t want you saying it’s not really Emmet, it’s a changeling, or any nonsense like that. OK?”

“Fine,” I smile bitterly.

Grumbling sourly, Dervish leads me away in search of Emmet Eijit, even though I know in my heart that the only place we’ll find him now is amidst the bones and scattered shreds of skin in some dirty demon’s den.

Emmet’s not in any of the trailers. Nobody’s seen him. I shoot Dervish a meaningful look, but he waves it away and goes looking for Davida. She’s still in the alley, talking with a technician. We wait for her to finish, then Dervish nudges forward and asks if she knows where Emmet is. Says we want to congratulate him on his performance.

“Of course!” Davida cries. “Hell, I want to too. I plain forgot about him. That was amazing. I loved the final touch—the scream for help. It worked perfectly. No need for a second take. He’ll be getting the blood cleaned off, so—”

“No,” I interrupt. “We checked. He isn’t in make-up.”

“Oh. Then I guess… Hey, Chuda! Where’d Emmet get to?”

A tall, thin man without eyebrows steps forward. Chuda Sool, the first assistant director and Davida’s closest confidant. They’ve worked together on her last four films. He’s a quiet sort, keeps to the background, makes sure everything’s running smoothly, tries to head off problems before they bother Davida.

“There’s been a flare-up,” Chuda says softly. “Perhaps we should speak about it in private.”

“What are you talking about?” Davida growls. “What happened?”

“Nora—Emmet’s mother—ran into Tump Kooniart after shooting,” Chuda says. “They had a huge argument. Tump said some very nasty things. He upset her. Nora grabbed Emmet, demanded a car, collected their belongings and…” Chuda shrugs.

“They left?” Davida barks. “Are you mad? Nobody leaves until shooting finishes. It’s in their contract. Get them back!”

“I can’t,” Chuda says. “When Nora calms down, maybe we can convince her to return, but—”

“She has no choice!” Davida insists. “She signed the contract. They have to stay on set for the duration.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” Chuda says patiently. “But she went anyway. You can withhold Emmet’s payment and maybe force them back that way, but for the time being…” He shrugs.

“Told you,” I mutter, glancing up at Dervish. Then I turn and walk off, not wanting to waste my time on more ridiculous excuses. Emmet’s dead, slaughtered by a demon. And if his mum’s missing, that means she was probably killed too. Time for Grubbs Grady to make an ultra-quick exit from Slawter!

“You can’t just walk off,” Dervish argues as I pack my bag.

“Watch me.” I turn to Bill-E, who’s standing by his bed, blinking like a startled owl. “You’re coming too. I’m not leaving you to end up like Emmet.”

“It looks bad, especially as there’s no sign of Emmet,” Dervish says. “But we need to make sure. Chuda could have been telling the truth. Emmet’s mother—”