THE BATTLE FOR A SAINTESS | PART THREE
Evening settled softly over the quiet house. Outside, the sky stretched wide in shades of purple and fading orange as the last light of the sun slipped beneath the horizon.
Inside Excel’s private bedroom, calm stillness rested upon the cream-colored walls. A bedside lamp glowed warmly on the nightstand, casting a gentle circle of light across the room.
The curtains hung lightly by the closed window, barely stirring in the calm air.
Excel knelt beside her neatly made bed, her hands clasped before her chest. Her open Bible rested on the mattress near her elbow, its pages faintly rustling as the soft light brushed over the printed words.
Her breathing was slow and steady, her posture humble yet resolute. The atmosphere carried the quiet reverence of a heart fully surrendered to God.
Her lips parted gently, and the stillness of the room seemed to lean closer to hear.
Excel (whispering):
"Lord, keep me."
Her whisper settled into the air like a sacred offering. The bedside lamp flickered faintly as though the unseen realm acknowledged the prayer.
Outside, the evening wind brushed softly across the walls of the house, while the quiet hum of distant city life drifted faintly through the night.
In the spiritual realm, the simple words rose like a small but unyielding flame, steady and pure.
A cold wind suddenly brushed the curtains, though the window remained firmly closed.
Excel remained unaware. Her life burned with a steady flame. And in the unseen realm, that flame was not ignored.
Far beyond the visible world—beneath the surface of the earth—darkness stirred.
The dark realm stretched endlessly, vast and oppressive. Something heavy hung in the air like a crushing weight pressing down upon the land.
The ground beneath shifted slowly, glowing faintly like embers buried beneath thick layers of ash.
Darkness there was not merely the absence of light. It was substance. Thick. Moving. Breathing.
Flames slithered like living creatures, coiling around shadowed figures, rising and sinking into the black expanse as though the abyss itself exhaled them.
The air trembled with suffocating heat, yet no light truly shone. Even the flames seemed swallowed by the surrounding void, leaving only warped outlines of distortion and silent rage.
The atmosphere was heavy, thick like smoke that refused to rise.
Shadows stretched along jagged stone floors, and restless flickers of dark flame crawled across the ground that seemed to breathe with ancient hatred.
In the center of that dreadful realm, a gathering stirred.
Shapes emerged slowly from the darkness—undeniably present, yet shifting between smoke and structure.
Their forms twisted and flickered like shadows fighting to remain solid. Hissing voices overlapped in low, venomous murmurs that echoed across the realm.
Then suddenly—the movement ceased.
From the burning ground, a throne began to rise. The stone beneath cracked open as condensed darkness and living flame twisted together, forming a seat of terrible power.
Upon that throne sat a figure of terrifying elegance.
Kaliqa.
The queen of the abyss.
Her form shimmered like a mirage. For a moment she appeared as a breathtaking young woman—her skin flawless, her beauty almost unnatural in its perfection.
Her long flowing hair fell across her shoulders like black silk, and her eyes gleamed like polished obsidian.
Then the beauty distorted.
Her features stretched unnaturally—splitting, shifting, and warping for a brief horrifying instant before settling once again into deceptive perfection.
Her slender fingers tapped slowly against the armrest of the throne.
The heat around her intensified.
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes suddenly flaring crimson, and the dark flames at her feet recoiled as though fearing her presence.
Her lips parted. Her voice erupted through the realm like thunder trapped beneath the earth.
Kaliqa (rage):
"Hmph!"
The sound cracked through the abyss like a violent storm. The jagged stones trembled, and the dark flames recoiled violently as though struck by invisible force.
Demonic figures across the gathering stiffened, their smoky forms shuddering as the queen’s fury rippled across the realm.
Her gaze hardened, shoulders straightening, fingers curling almost imperceptibly.
A low, sharp inhale preceded her words, each syllable bristling with contained rage before it spilled forth.
Kaliqa (fury):
"All the useless mortal agents I sent to capture that Excel have failed me."
The air around the throne thickened as her words rolled outward. Several of the shadowed figures shifted uneasily, their smoky shapes wavering under the weight of her anger.
The ground beneath them pulsed faintly like a wounded heart as whispers of fear crept through the assembly.
Her eyes swept across the gathered host of darkness, narrowing with ice-cold fury.
A tense exhale shivered through her chest, and then her tone cut through the stillness—sharp, cold, and unyielding.
Kaliqa (ice-cold):
"None of them returned. Not one."
A ripple of dread spread through the gathering like a cold wind across ashes. Some of the dark spirits trembled visibly, their forms flickering between shape and smoke.
The dark flames lining the floor hissed and twisted as if reacting to the humiliation she spoke of.
Slowly, Kaliqa rose fully to her feet. Her long garment flowed unnaturally behind her, gliding across the burning ground as though gravity itself dared not oppose her.
Flames spiraled upward around her form, yet strangely they cast no light.
A low, simmering hiss escaped her throat before words formed, vibrating with the intensity of the fire that seemed to burn within her.
Kaliqa (wrathful):
"I am full of wrath."
The words rolled through the abyss like the grinding of ancient stones. The darkness thickened in response, pressing heavily upon the assembled spirits.
Several demons instinctively lowered themselves closer to the ground as their queen’s rage filled the realm.
Her crimson gaze blazed brighter, sweeping the shadows with lethal intent. A low, resonant growl rose from her throat before tone formed, vibrating with pure fury.
Kaliqa (searing):
"That brainless mortal has been attacking my kingdom, ruining my work, and snatching souls from my hand."
The ground shuddered beneath her steps as she descended from the throne. Her heels struck the jagged stone floor with sharp echoes that rang like iron striking bone.
Around her, dark flames twisted violently, reacting to the fury that radiated from her presence.
She paused in the center of the gathering, shoulders squared, eyes flashing, and exhaled slowly, letting the charged air carry her authority.
Her voice cut through like steel—hard, absolute, unyielding.
Kaliqa (decisive):
"I will not send anyone again."
The murmuring among the dark spirits died instantly. An uneasy stillness spread across the realm as all attention fixed upon their queen. Even the flames seemed to hold their breath.
Kaliqa shifted slightly, the faintest ripple in her posture hinting at power coiled and ready. Her tone dropped lower—dangerously calm—each word cutting through the realm like a blade.
Kaliqa (coldly):
"I myself will go down to the earth and deal with her."
The realm vibrated faintly as the declaration settled into the abyss. Several demons exchanged uneasy glances, their forms rippling like smoke disturbed by unseen wind.
From the gathering, one towering figure slowly stepped forward.
His form was jagged and towering, edges sharp like torn smoke drifting through fire. His presence carried the heavy weight of ancient malice.
Stonerip.
He bowed low before Kaliqa, his massive frame folding in submission as the flames around him bent away in fear. His voice emerged slowly, grinding like stone dragged across stone.
Stonerip (carefully):
"My queen… we know you can overcome her."
The surrounding demons turned their flickering forms toward him, listening closely. The dark flames swayed gently, as though leaning in to hear the daring suggestion.
He lifted his head slightly, though his towering body remained bowed in reverence. His tone smooth and commanding, pulling attention like a current.
Stonerip (persuasive):
"But if you succeed… do not destroy her. Use her."
A wave of murmurs spread across the dark gathering. The suggestion moved through the demons like wind through a furnace, stirring whispers of intrigue and cruel ambition.
The shadows around Stonerip flickering in time with his measured breath. His voice slid through the realm—threaded with quiet menace.
Stonerip (strategic):
"Let us rather use her. She carries influence. She commands respect. She may help us win back the souls she has taken… and stop others from following the Holy One."
The suggestion rippled through the realm like dark water. A chorus of demonic voices murmured in agreement, their whispers echoing like hollow wind rushing through broken stone.
The oppressive atmosphere thickened as the strategy began to settle into the mind of the abyss.
Kaliqa tilted her head slowly. A thin smile crept across her lips. Her tone calm, precise, and unnervingly controlled.
Kaliqa (measured):
"You speak wisely."
The words spread across the assembly like poison poured into water. The demons lowered themselves further, sensing their queen’s approval. Dark flames flickered higher, dancing in anticipation.
Kaliqa lifted both hands slowly. The ground beneath her feet darkened even further, swallowing the restless flames that had surrounded her.
A hush fell over the gathering, as if the very shadows leaned closer. Her voice rolled out like thunder restrained, steady, and unyielding, carrying authority that brooked no argument.
Kaliqa (commanding):
"Our mission is to conquer the mortal world… and stop the Holy One from reigning over mankind."
The declaration echoed across the abyss like a decree of war. The assembled spirits trembled with dark excitement, their forms expanding and twisting as the atmosphere thickened with rebellious fury.
Dark energy began to swirl around Kaliqa like storm clouds gathering before destruction. Her tone deepened as the abyss responded.
Kaliqa (powerful):
"As I descend to the earth… all of you—lend me your power. Back me up fully."
Immediately the demons dropped to their knees. One by one, they pressed their foreheads against the burning ground in submission.
Their shadowy forms flattened low before the throne as dark power began to gather around their queen.
A chant began. Low. Dark. Rhythmic.
The entire realm responded.
Flames twisted upward from the floor, spiraling together into a towering column of dark fire that wrapped itself around Kaliqa’s form.
The surrounding darkness condensed, compressing into her body like armor forged from shadow and flame.
The abyss trembled as the power of countless spirits poured into her.
Far above, beneath the peaceful sky, Excel remained kneeling in her quiet bedroom.
Unaware.
The bedside lamp still glowed gently beside her Bible.
Outside, the cool night breeze brushed softly across the distant city lights as evening deepened into night.
But in the unseen realm—something had begun to descend.
The battle had begun.
And the night waited silently for what would come next.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Written by Agbemawle Atsu Norvishi
© All Rights Reserved. Shared freely to bless and inspire.
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