A new thought crossed my mind. If the Grim does come, it would be best to fight. I’d need to set up defenses. I began to analyze the house with a more strategic eye.
In the front room part of the floor had collapsed into the cellar. The hole was too small to swallow a Grim, but maybe the floor was weak around the spot. I searched for a basement entrance. Going down into the pit was not as frightening as it used to be when I was a small child. Not having a flashlight, it was impossible to see the dark basement ceiling around the hole which let in dim gray light. I decided I’d have to hope the floor was weak enough.
The house had an old oil furnace in a corner. I almost smiled. Finding an old bar of metal, I bashed the line between the furnace and the tank, creating a crack from which oil wetted the concrete floor and noxious fumes filled my nostrils.
Now I needed that fire. I thought to myself, “Come and get me.”