“I keep my children in there.”

That’s what the dying woman said about the locket on a chain around her neck.

After finishing the killing, Curtis grabbed the chain. Links dug in the corpse’s neck. But eventually, it gave.

Eyes wide with sudden terror, Curtis watched the locket expanding. From inside came grunts, snarls. Only a flimsy clasp kept whatever made those sounds at bay. But for how long?

Curtis hadn’t known about the foul birthing rites and subsequent protective spells meant to keep the woman’s demon offspring imprisoned.

But she had warned him.

“I keep my children in there.”