Astra's POV:
Night had fallen, casting an ominous shadow over the movie theater. Marcus and I huddled, planning our escape.
"Do you think we could survive the night out there?" I asked, anxiety creeping in.
"Yeah, we can," Marcus reassured. "We'll stick together. Don't worry, we'll find James."
Claire approached us, her voice trembling. "Is it true? Demons attacking our world? Those things outside don't seem human."
I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "We're not sure yet, but I can't stay here. Sooner or later, those things will come in and kill us all. It's better I leave now."
Mike walked up behind us. "She's right. We need to leave."
I pulled out my phone, showing Marcus an article about Temple Gahena. "Look at this."
The article described an occult group's failed attempt to summon a demon by opening the gates of hell. The Sword of Azaddon, used to open the gates, could only be activated by human blood.
A chilling realization dawned on me. I had accidentally cut myself with the sword, activating it. The gateway to hell had opened, letting demons in.
I felt sick, my mind reeling.
Marcus noticed my distress. "What's wrong?"
I couldn't reveal the truth to Claire and Mike yet. "Just…we need to get out of here."
Marcus told me he had taken the original sword and thrown it into the river, replacing it with a fake for Mr. Castor's expedition to Egypt.
I was stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"We didn't know what would happen," Marcus said.
The article didn't provide information on reversing the damage. We needed more knowledge.
"Let's go to the national library," I suggested. "We might find something."
Claire and Mike agreed to join us, eager for a solution.
As we left the theater, demon-possessed bodies swarmed us. We fought our way through, finding temporary refuge in a bar.
I scanned the bar, searching for James, but he wasn't there.
"Don't worry, we'll find him on the way to the library," Marcus reassured.
Our quest for answers had begun.
We would face hell itself to save our world.
And James.
I steeled myself for the journey ahead.
The national library held our only hope.
We would uncover the secrets to closing the gates of hell.
And restore our world to its former glory.
But at what cost?
Mr Castor's POV:
I stepped off the plane in Egypt, eager to unlock the secrets of Temple Gahena. My driver awaited me, and I handed him the Sword of Azaddon, unaware it was a fake.
"Take me to Gahena," I instructed.
As we drove, the radio crackled with news of chaos spreading across Egypt. Borders were closing, and panic was rising.
"What's this…?" I muttered, concerned.
Before I could finish, demon-possessed bodies attacked our vehicle. Chaos erupted on the streets.
I fled, running for my life, until I found refuge in a small restaurant.
From the safety of the restaurant, I watched the attackers. They infected the living, and I quickly grasped the truth: demons from hell, possessing dead bodies.
The sword must have been activated somehow, I thought.
But this wouldn't deter me. I had a personal stake in opening the gates of hell. My son, Craig, had stolen crucial documents from my drug organization before his untimely death. I believed that by opening the gates, I could question him about the documents' whereabouts.
I fought my way through the demon-possessed bodies, seeking safety under a car. A stranger joined me, and I waited until nightfall.
Under the cover of darkness, I pushed him out, sacrificing him to the demons. His screams echoed as I made my escape.
I commandeered a truck and drove through the night, navigating blocked streets. Dawn broke before I reached the temple.
As I approached, demons in their black smoke form emerged, but none attacked me. I realized it was because I was still alive.
I entered the temple, placing the sword on the central altar.
And that's when I saw it – the fake.
Rage coursed through my veins. Marcus and Astra had tricked me, stolen my money.
"If I make it out of this," I vowed, "I'll kill them."
I glared at the fake sword, feeling betrayed.
But I wouldn't give up. I would find a way to achieve my goal, no matter the cost.
The temple's dark energy seemed to stir, sensing my determination.
I would uncover the secrets of Temple Gahena, even if it meant burning the world to ashes.
And Marcus and Astra would pay for their deception.
Moraks POV:
I emerged from the gateway, my black smoke form swirling through Temple Gahena. I spotted Mr. Castor, intrigued by his fearless demeanor.
Why hadn't any demon attacked him? Ah, yes – he was still alive.
I descended, taking on a more solid form. "You don't seem scared, Mr. Castor. You seem like someone who wants vengeance. Tell me what you want, and it shall be yours."
Mr. Castor recoiled. "Get away from me, you demon!"
I chuckled, surveying the temple. My gaze landed on the fake Sword of Azaddon.
"Ah, I see. You seek the sword to control the gateway. I'll help you find it."
Mr. Castor's expression twisted. "I know who has it. No thanks for your help."
I sensed his frustration. "But you seem upset. Tell me, what's wrong?"
Mr. Castor's eyes narrowed. "I need that sword to get my son's soul out of hell, to question him."
I smiled, recognizing the name. "You mean Craig? I can get you to him."
Mr. Castor's interest piqued. "What do you want?"
"To take control and have your body," I replied.
A cunning glint sparked in Mr. Castor's eyes. "Then, with your abilities, I shall kill all my enemies… and kill Marcus and Astra. Hmmm, they will be no need for my son then. Deal!"
I possessed Mr. Castor's body, bypassing the usual requirement of death. Our pact allowed me to inhabit him, bound by the condition to help him kill his enemies and eliminate Marcus and Astra.
But I had other plans.
For now, I would play along.
I took control of Mr. Castor's body and exited the temple. I drove to the city, seeking an opportunity to further my own agenda.
I arrived at an apartment building, where survivors had gathered. I joined them, feigning camaraderie.
As night fell, our planned escape began. We left the building, only to be surrounded by demon-possessed bodies.
Chaos erupted. The survivors fought for their lives.
My eyes turned black, filled with darkness. I infected one of the survivors, sowing discord.
I abandoned them to the demon-possessed horde, watching as some were infected, others killed.
I slipped away, making my way to the abandoned airport. I commandeered a light aircraft and took to the skies.
Britain was my destination, where I would fulfill my pact with Mr. Castor.
But my true intentions remained hidden, awaiting the perfect moment to unfold.
The world would soon learn the true meaning of terror.
And I, Morak, would be its master.