The house was described in terse, jagged text, half of it consisting of similes and metaphors. They insisted on comparing the spirits to something else. Vicious animals, forces of nature, demons of hell.
Knowing this, I approached the porch carefully, holding nothing in my hands.
"Spirit, can you hear me?" I announced, standing a handful of feet away from the front door. A low rumble echoed through the house, and I vaguely considered retreating. The full moon was out, looming over the house like its guardian angel. This was when spirits were most powerful. But the same went for me.
I held onto my ward with one hand, and tried the door with the other, standing slightly to the side, in case the spirit tried to bludgeon me. Instead, the handle would hardly turn. But it wasn't locked, because I had the key. It just didn't want me in. That was fine, I had other ways in.