Brom nervously hung back as they approached his parents' room. The door was ajar, and from where there were now he could see the demonic light bursting from inside.
"Gemma, hang on," he said, pulling her back. She looked at his face, and suddenly he felt extremely conscious of the oversized pink glasses he was wearing. "Gems, I don't want you going in there."
"Why don't you give me the sunglasses?" she asked. "It's shaded enough here on the landing, so you should be fine."
"What if the sunglasses don't work in there?" Brom asked, his heart quickening at the thought of Gemma coming to harm.
Gemma slowly brought her shoulders up. "If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We have to try. And there's no way I'm letting you try again." She lifted a hand to remove the glasses from Brom.
His heart sank as the glasses left his face, knowing that he couldn't convince Gemma to let him go instead, or talk her out of it in any way.
Gemma slid the glasses over her own eyes and started to turn in the direction of the bedroom door.
"Gemma, be careful," said Brom, touching her arm before letting her go. Every muscle in his body was tensed as she gingerly pushed the door aside and squeezed into the room.
And vanished. The door slammed shut.
"Gemma!" Brom screamed, charging full-speed into the door. He yanked at the handle with everything he had, but it had locked itself. "Gemma, can you hear me?" he shouted, pounding his fists against the wood to create as much noise as he could.
After about five minutes of no reply, Brom pressed his back to the door, and slid to the ground with his head in his hands.
* * *
Gemma's head pounded - literally. It felt as though somebody was physically throwing their fists against the inside of her skull, making the bone echo deep into her brain.
"Who are you?" a small voice asked.
Gemma's face was pressed to a wall; she could feel it crushing her nose. Her eyes snapped open and she took a step backward to access it, and was shocked when she realized that no wall existed.
In fact... Nothing existed. Glancing quickly around, she realized that even the floor didn't exist, though she did seem to be standing on something. All that she could see for miles into the distance was streams and streams of brilliant, shimmering white light.
Gemma lifted her hands to touch her face, but froze them at shoulder height; her fingers were dazzling, fizzling... As her eyes traveled, she realized that her entire body was. She herself was made of light.
"Who are you?"
Gemma shivered. She'd thought she'd imagined the voice the first time it had spoken. She turned slowly around, 180 degrees, but there was nobody about.
"Um... Where are you?" she asked, her voice taking on an unusually high pitch, almost sounding musical.
There was a whooshing sound behind her, and then the soft thud of somebody landing gracefully.
"I'm behind you."