With its host body grounded and hurting, and the door out of reach, the demon sensed the futility of the situation. It had let its identity be known to too many. Now it faced the very real danger that the host would be mangled or killed, which would vanquish it in turn. Better to retreat... Yes, retreat and set them loose, try again with others...
A soot-colored mist lifted out of Fox Cullen's body. It floated towards the staircase and began to spiral upwards, like a vortex of smoke, heading towards the mirror that hung from the wall. Once inside the glass, a pair of bluish eyes flashed and then faded from sight.
There was a great 'whoosh!' and 'crash!' as every door of the house blew open at once. Glass shattered in the window panes. A gust of air tore through the house, knocking over pictures, disrupting papers, rustling sheets and curtains. Then it was as silent and still as the doldrums.