Chapter LXVI: Daemonium
Liz steps forward, her voice trembling but firm as she stands in front of the statue that bears Bennett's face. The lamp flickers in her hand, casting trembling shadows across the cracked walls of the old chapel.
"Never!" she cries out, facing Ivan and the group of officers who now emerge fully from the southern door. Her voice echoes across the chapel. "He wasn't yours! Even if he is my boyfriend, that doesn't make him my possession! He is God's possession!"
Adrian and Wyn rush to her side, and Fr. Edgar stands behind them, eyes narrowed, his presence steady and stern. The group unites in resolve.
Ivan raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. He smirks, slow-clapping again as he steps closer to the light.
"How touching," he sneers. "But what would any of you know about what belongs to God?"
Liz doesn't flinch. Her eyes stay locked on his. "We know enough to never play God," she says, voice now calm but cutting like a blade. "We know that faith isn't something you twist and mold to fit your selfish schemes. And whatever you're planning... it won't work."
Ivan chuckles, shrugging mockingly. "Spoken like a true little saint. But saints can't stop what's already been written."
Adrian steps forward now, fury rising in his voice. "Then what in tarnation did you do to Bennett?!"
A thick silence crushes the room.
Then Ivan breaks into a sinister laugh. It starts small, but quickly escalates—mad, maniacal, unhinged. His voice bounces off the chapel walls, the sound chilling to the bone.
"You really want to know?" he hisses, his voice now low, dark, venomous. "Fine. Let me tell you a little story..."
He steps towards the base of the statue and traces a finger along the cold stone.
"It happened weeks ago. Bennett was broken. Hollow. He came here—this chapel—to cry, to pray, to beg for answers. I watched him. Night after night, I watched him. Praying like a fool, talking to a God who never talked back."
He paces slowly now, like a storyteller feeding off the fear in his audience.
"And you know what? I hated him. I hated the way he still believed. I hated that no matter how much this world kicked him down, he kept turning to his precious God. I wanted that peace. I wanted that power. But it was never mine... it was his."
Ivan stops walking, his eyes now distant. Dark.
"So one night, while he was kneeling here…" He points to the front of the chapel. "I knocked him out cold. I didn't even think. I just... did it."
Liz gasps, holding a hand over her mouth.
"Then what?" Adrian demands.
Ivan's grin stretches unnaturally. "Then… the serpent came."
Wyn's grip tightens on Liz's arm.
"It slithered out from the shadow of the altar. Massive. Eyes like burning coals. It told me I had a choice. Either let Bennett live and keep being the blessed golden boy… or offer him up. Turn him into something divine, something twisted, something eternal."
He laughs again. "It even gave me instructions—dark rites, words I never understood but still spoke. I followed everything. I had no choice. And when the smoke cleared… Bennett was gone. And this statue? It stood in his place."
The room is silent. Cold.
Adrian clenches his fists. Wyn is frozen, and Liz stares at the statue, her knees wobbling.
"You turned him into this… against his will," Fr. Edgar says, shaking his head in horror.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, Padre," Ivan mocks. "You were never here to see it happen. You abandoned this place. You let the darkness in. I just… accepted it."
Fr. Edgar steps back, and without a word, he turns and runs down the stairs to call for help.
Now, only the three remain in front of Ivan and the other officers.
Adrian places a hand on Liz's shoulder. "We hold our ground."
Wyn nods. "He may have turned Bennett into a statue, but we're not letting him take anything—or anyone—else."
Liz, tears glistening in her eyes, looks at the face of the statue once more. Her voice soft but firm: "You may have cursed his body… but not his soul. And we're going to set him free."
Ivan's eyes glint like knives in the darkness. "We'll see about that."
The shadows in the chapel begin to twist.
And the battle for Bennett begins.
The chapel trembles with tension. Ivan's slow clap still echoes in the stone walls, his sinister smirk never leaving his face.
Suddenly, as if summoned by the malice in his soul, the shadows in the corners begin to move. They stretch, twist, and crawl toward the light, growing into ghastly figures with hollow, glowing eyes. With a voice drenched in wickedness, Ivan laughs, throwing his arms to the sides.
"Come, my minions," he snarls, "Show them the power of darkness."
The shadows lunge.
Adrian and Wyn immediately step to Liz's side, unwavering. Adrian reaches into his satchel, his fingers brushing against the small container of incense powder he packed. He throws a handful toward the oncoming darkness. Wyn quickly opens her water bottle and dips her fingers in it, whispering a prayer as she flings the droplets at the shadows.
"IN JESUS' NAME, BEGONE!" they both shout in unison.
The incense ignites midair, fizzling with white flame. The holy water hisses on contact with the shadows. The demonic figures scream in agony, their bodies melting into the ground like wax under flame.
Ivan growls. "So... you've learned a few tricks. No matter."
With a wave of his hand, more shadows rise—thicker, darker, meaner. They scream as they swarm the trio again.
Ivan laughs maniacally, turning his back to make his grand exit. But just as he plants his first step away—
FWWSSH! A swirling motion cuts through the air.
It's Liz.
Her eyes burn with holy determination as she swings the Century Sword with sharp grace. The blade gleams brilliantly with a silver light that cuts through darkness itself. With every clean sweep of her arm, a shadow's head flies, vanishing into bursts of ash.
Ivan halts. He glances back just in time to see Liz tearing through the next wave of shadow monsters like a celestial warrior.
"You will NOT take him from us!" she shouts.
Adrian doesn't hesitate either. From his backpack, he pulls out a long, metallic cylinder. With a flick, it extends into a steel baton. He smears incense powder onto each end, then strikes a lighter. Both ends flare up in a controlled blaze.
He spins the weapon like a seasoned samurai, the fire licking around him in a glowing arc. Every strike lands true, burning away the shadows that dare approach.
Wyn grabs a long hollow rod from the side of the chapel wall—a leftover fixture used in liturgical displays. She fills it with holy water and begins launching sprays with precision, the water slicing through the dark figures like arrows of light.
The chapel is a battleground of light versus darkness.
Ivan scowls. With a roar, he lifts both arms high. "RISE!" he cries.
From the darkest corners of the chapel and even the ceiling rafters, a massive army of shadows rise—dozens of them. The figures look monstrous now, more humanoid, more vicious, brandishing shadowy claws and teeth.
The trio regroup.
Adrian: "Stick together! We can't let them surround us!"
Wyn: "We've got this! Just like we practiced."
The army charges. Adrian spins his dual-flamed stick, knocking aside shadows as they leap. Wyn uses the holy rod like a sword and cannon in one, spraying and striking. Liz, with the sword blazing like a lighthouse in a storm, cuts her way through without hesitation.
Ivan turns again, his footsteps echoing—
Until a fierce shout cuts through the battlefield.
"THIS IS FOR BENNETT, YOU DEVIL!"
Liz charges at Ivan with a scream, sword raised. Her eyes are burning—not with rage, but with love and faith.
Ivan turns just in time. A wicked grin spreads across his face.
From the folds of his cloak, he conjures a dark blade. It materializes in smoke, black and red, pulsating with cursed energy.
CLANG!
The swords meet. Sparks fly.
Liz grits her teeth, pushing against his strength. Ivan leans in, lips curled.
"Do you really think you can defeat me?" he growls.
Their blades lock, and the battle of light and darkness becomes a duel between two fates.
Behind them, Adrian and Wyn continue their fight. Holy water sprays. Incense flames whirl. The army is relentless, but so are they.
This is not just a battle.
It's a war for Bennett.
For light.
For everything they believe in.
And it's far from over.