| Elias Valiot | Exorcist

Over his many years of service, Elias had grown used to facing all kinds of challenges — some of them extremely difficult and dangerous — yet he never saw his work as mysticism or something otherworldly. To him, it was a craft — a harsh one, demanding utmost focus, precise methodology, and an inner, unshakable calm, like a prayer whispered in the silence of a temple. Demons, spirits, unknown shadows and entities dwelling at the edges of worlds — he had seen them more than once, had banished them, had freed many souls from their oppression, always following strict rituals and ancient traditions. Most cases stirred in him only professional interest and nothing more: tired, worn-out stories that had long become routine — familiar rites, prayers, and words pulled from dusty manuscripts and ancient tomes. There were families who simply needed periodic house cleansings, or cases where someone in the household started feeling the “tickle” of the otherworld — but in the vast majority of instances, these problems were solved quickly and without much complication.

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When he received the call about this new case, his first impression was exactly the same — ordinary, mundane. A fourteen-year-old girl, who, according to her deeply religious parents, was allegedly possessed by a demon. It sounded so cliché and familiar that he didn’t even hesitate. The family’s name was known to him: they had reached out to him before, and had always treated his work with respect. He accepted the request without questions or doubts — for him, it was just another task to be resolved.

The meeting took place in a quiet, nearly abandoned house on the outskirts of the city, where the air was thick with the scent of old wood, centuries of dust, and a faint trace of incense, as if the place itself was steeped in ancient mysteries and mystical rites. The girl’s parents greeted him with a mix of anxiety and hope, their eyes silently pleading for salvation. The girl, however, appeared fragile and thin, her gaze fiery and defiant, paired with a bitter, skeptical smirk — cold as steel. She was unbaptized and declared proudly that she didn’t believe in spirits or gods. “I’m an atheist,” she repeated again and again, as if it were her weapon, a shield against the otherworldly forces trying to enter her life.

The first conversation was a cautious attempt to establish contact, to understand the essence of what was happening, to decipher what lay behind her words and behavior. Elias spoke quietly and gently, trying to build a bridge between her fears, her doubts, and his extensive knowledge of ancient rituals and spiritual practices. But the girl responded distantly, almost mockingly, taking none of his words seriously. His prayers, his incantations — she saw them as the senseless ravings of madmen.

The initial rituals went smoothly, almost perfunctorily. He blessed the house, reciting prayers, burning aromatic herbs and sacred oils, invoking light and peace. The girl, sitting in a dark corner of the room, watched him with contempt, as though he were a character from a children’s tale trying to scare her with an imaginary monster. These familiar actions usually brought relief, but in this case, they only heightened the tension, as if some invisible barrier was growing thicker.

With each passing day, it became increasingly clear: whatever held sway over the girl was far stronger and more malevolent than Elias had anticipated. The aura surrounding her was heavy, dark, and penetrating, like a bottomless void devouring light. He intensified his rituals, adding more complex incantations, rites with oil and silver, trying to sever the dark bond. But the girl only screamed with rage that it was all nonsense, that souls were a myth, and faith — just a delusion clung to by the weak.

This wasn’t just a battle with a demon. It was a far more insidious and subtle struggle — a mental and spiritual duel that called into question not only her reality but Elias’s own faith. Her denial and skepticism became a powerful shield, repelling every word he uttered, every incantation spoken, as though the entire world he had known and served was collapsing beneath her mocking disdain.

At last came the night when he decided to use the final, most powerful incantation — the one that offered no mercy and was his weapon of last resort. The girl was asleep, and it seemed that a long-awaited peace had settled over the house. But the silence was deceptive. As soon as he began to utter the ancient words, the energy in the room thickened like lead, and a chill pierced through to his very bones. For a moment, everything froze — the air tightened as though the soul itself had been seized in iron clamps, and breath ceased.

Then, a quiet mist of that sinister aura filled the room — visible only to him. The demon chose to reveal itself.

It did not burst forth in furious flame or with a scream. It emerged calmly, silently, dissolving out of the black haze — as if it were the master of this reality. It didn’t try to hide or flee back to hell. It simply stepped forward — into the world where the brave exorcist had long awaited its arrival.

Elias froze in fear for a second, a cold sweat running down his back. He turned his head, trying to see any hint of a creature in that black haze of ominous aura.