In the stillness of the luminous night, a figure stood at the door, waiting for it to open. Suddenly, the door creaked, and he was ushered inside. The visitor was Father George, invited in by Edward. After their brief greetings, Father George’s concern was palpable. “Where is she? Where is Emily?” he asked, his voice steady yet laced with urgency.

Without a word, Edward led him through the dimly lit house, their footsteps echoing ominously in the narrow hallway. When they reached the room, Father George paused at the threshold, his breath catching as he absorbed the chilling scene before him. Emily lay unconscious, bound at the foot of the bed with chains and rope. Her face was deathly pale, her body limp, and low, unintelligible murmurs escaped her lips, sending a shiver down Edward’s spine. Overwhelmed with emotion, he began to sob quietly. Father George placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It will be alright,” he whispered, though doubt gnawed at his heart.

Breaking the oppressive silence, Father George said, “Edward, I need you to understand something crucial. What I’m about to say may terrify you, but this… this is no longer Emily. I resisted believing it at first, but after seeing her like this, it’s undeniable. The body may be hers, but her soul is not. She has been overtaken—ensnared by the devil himself. We have no choice. We must perform an exorcism.”

Edward’s voice cracked as he asked, “Will she… will she be alright after this? Can you save her?” His eyes brimmed with desperation, pleading for hope.

“I don’t know, son,” Father George replied softly, his own heart heavy with uncertainty. “But we have no other choice. We must act quickly. Time is against us.” Edward collapsed into the priest’s arms, his anguish palpable as he begged Father George to save Emily.

Taking a deep breath, Father George explained, “Listen, Edward. I’m not authorized to perform an exorcism on my own. I’m just a simple priest. For something like this, I need permission from the bishop—this is a serious and dangerous rite. But given the circumstances, there’s no time to waste. We must exorcise Emily, and we must do it now.”

With resolve, Edward and Father George lifted Emily and laid her down on the bed, securing her hands and legs to each corner. Father George lit several candles, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the walls, and covered Emily with a thin blanket. He then bowed his head, praying to God for protection—for himself and for the family. “O mighty Lord, shield us from the devil and his wicked minions. Guard us against all dangers that surround us, and guide our hearts to stray not into sin. Have mercy on us,” he implored, his voice steady despite the storm of fear within him.

He donned his holy stole and opened the pages of the Holy Bible. “Edward,” he instructed firmly, “do not succumb to the devil’s words. Help me with the prayers.”

Finally, Father George began the exorcism. He sprinkled holy water over Emily, and as it touched her skin, she convulsed, her skin seeming to burn. She jolted awake, unleashing a terrified scream. Edward was paralyzed, watching in horror as the woman he loved—the person who was his everything—was lost to a demon.

Father George opened the pages of the Holy Bible and began to read, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.” As he spoke, the winds outside howled, and the air thickened with malevolence. The devil began to scream, then suddenly shifted to crying. It spoke in Emily’s voice, a haunting plea that shattered Edward’s heart: “Help me, Edward! Please help me! This guy is hurting me! Edward, I’m getting hurt! Please help me! I am your Emily, your wife! For my sake, please stop him!” The voice was soaked in desperation, tears echoing in every syllable.

Overcome with emotion, Edward reached out to her, but Father George gripped his arm firmly, urging him to stay focused. “The devil is trying to fool you. Don’t listen to its lies!”

Father George called upon the power of God, igniting a flame within him; the blanket covering Emily began to smolder. It started at her head, and soon, the entire blanket and her clothes were reduced to ashes, consumed by an unholy fire. The devil wailed in Emily’s voice, screaming, “Edward! Help me! Help me! Help me!”

Hearing the agony in his wife’s cries and witnessing her suffering, Edward felt a surge of blood pour from his ears and eyes. In a moment of desperation, he shouted, “Stop!” interrupting the prayer and sprinting toward Emily. “No, Edward!” Father George cried out, panic coursing through him. “What have you done, son? No!”

Emily, still bound to the bed, wept and then erupted into deep, chilling laughter. Edward’s heart raced as he called her name, his voice breaking with anguish. The response was nothing but an eerie silence. “Emily!” he shouted, desperation clinging to his words. The devil replied with mocking scorn, “Shut up, you human! There is no Emily!”

Father George resumed reading from the Bible, his voice rising in defiance, but the devil retaliated violently, ripping the heart from Father George’s chest and taunting him, “Your God will not help you, Father!” .This was no longer Emily. Her appearance, her voice—everything she once was—vanished. Emily was now lost to the darkness.

As Father George’s lifeless body hit the floor, the room fell into an unnatural silence. Emily, completely under the control of the devil, lay on the bed, her breathing shallow but steady. Edward exited the room, closing the door behind him, Emily still laughing in deep voice. He knelt, trembling, his mind clouded with the weight of what had just happened. Hope was dead; darkness was consuming Edward.

The demon had gone quiet, its presence seemingly vanished, but an eerie stillness lingered in the air, thick and oppressive.

Edward stumbled to his feet, barely able to stand, his gaze shifting toward the door. He could hear Lilly’s faint voice calling from the other room. She sounded confused. Alone. But alive.

He rushed to her. The hallway felt longer than it should, twisting and warping in the dim light. His footsteps echoed unnaturally, like he was walking in some endless void. Finally, he reached Lilly’s door. He opened it slowly, his heart pounding with both fear and hope.

There she was—Lilly, standing in the middle of the room, clutching her small doll, her wide eyes staring at him. Relief washed over him for a brief moment.

“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice small and uncertain.

“I’m here, Lilly,” Edward said, his voice cracking with emotion. He knelt down and reached out to her, but something in her expression stopped him cold.

Her eyes—something was off.

She tilted her head, studying him, and a faint smile spread across her face. “You came back,” she said, but the voice—it wasn’t Lilly’s. It was layered, darker, almost mocking.

Edward froze. “Lilly?”

Her smile grew wider, unnatural, as she whispered, “Daddy, who did you really save?”

Edward’s breath caught in his throat. He backed away, his mind racing, everything around him spinning. The walls seemed to close in, warping, the shadows dancing in the corners of his vision. He stumbled into the hallway again, looking for something—anything familiar. His vision blurred, and his body felt like it was being pulled in different directions.

He glanced back into Lilly’s room, but she was gone. The room was empty—completely empty—like she had never been there at all.

“Lilly?” His voice was barely a whisper now.

He turned to run back to Emily, but the hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, distorting as if it were no longer part of this world. Was it ever? The walls pulsed, and the floor beneath his feet felt soft, like the very fabric of reality was coming apart. He stumbled back into the room where Father George lay—except the body wasn’t there anymore. The bed was empty too.

Edward’s heart pounded in his chest as he spun around, disoriented. A faint voice echoed in his mind, almost a whisper: “We never left.”

Suddenly, Edward was standing in front of the door again—the same door he had entered that night.

It was closed now, the room behind him eerily silent. He reached for the handle, his hand trembling. He opened it. There was nothing but darkness , emptiness.