The first time

John's feet pounded against the ground as he sprinted, his grip tight on the bottle of holy water clutched in his left hand, and the weight of the sacred book firmly held in his right. Amidst the cacophony of screams echoing around him, he pressed forward.

Inside the darkened doorway, he gasped for breath, the heaviness of his exhales a testament to the urgency of his mission. Gradually, the gloom yielded to the faint glow of a torch, its flickering flames guiding his way. With the urgency of his run subsiding, John slowed to a determined stride, his resolve unwavering as he pressed onward.

The locked doors loomed into view, their presence ominous in the dim light. John passed them methodically, each one a barrier between him and safety. Behind the bars, figures lay sprawled on the ground, some motionless, others reaching out desperately as he walked by.

Their hands clutched at the metal, straining to grasp him, their cries a haunting symphony of anguish. Tears streaked some faces, while others contorted in screams that reverberated through the corridor. These were the same cries that had spurred him into action, driving him forward despite the terror that threatened to consume him.

John's determined stride faltered momentarily as he approached a specific cell, his focus singular and unwavering. Slowing his pace, he came to a halt before its barred entrance, his gaze fixed on the figure within. Peering inside, he beheld a woman huddled on the floor, her back turned to him, her voice a whispered tremor against the cold walls. An aura of fear enveloped her, palpable even from the distance between them. Despite the chaos surrounding them, John's attention was solely on her, a flicker of concern softening the steely resolve in his eyes.

John's brows furrowed in confusion as he scrutinized the bottle and the holy book in his hands. Despite his solemn demeanor, a hint of uncertainty lingered in his gaze. With a hesitant gesture, he uncapped the bottle, peering into its contents as if searching for answers. Yet, the solution remained elusive. His expression betrayed his inner turmoil, as if grappling with a puzzle beyond his comprehension.

After a moment's hesitation, he lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a sip of the holy water. Its taste did little to dispel his uncertainty. Next, he turned his attention to the pages of the sacred book, scanning them intently in search of guidance or revelation. But as the words failed to elicit any supernatural response, his frustration mounted.

Despite his efforts, the woman remained unmoved, her silent vigil unbroken. With a sigh of resignation, John closed the book, the weight of his failure heavy upon him. In the face of uncertainty, he was left to confront the limits of his faith and the daunting task ahead.

John's frustration ignited into a blazing inferno of anger, fueling his determination to break through the barrier between him and the woman trapped in darkness. With a primal roar, he consumed another gulp of the holy water, his resolve unyielding. As he raised his voice, the ancient words of the exorcism ritual reverberated through the corridor, each syllable a battle cry against the forces of evil.

The atmosphere shifted, the darkness deepening as if in response to his fervent invocation. Yet, amidst the shadows, a faint glow emanated from John, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching despair. As his luminous aura intensified, the woman stirred, her gaze drawn irresistibly to the spectacle unfolding before her.

Recognition dawned in her eyes, a flicker of understanding mingled with awe at the power wielded by the determined exorcist. In that moment, John transcended his own doubt and frustration, becoming a vessel for the divine light that banished the darkness and offered redemption to the tormented soul before him.

The cleaning woman stood silently at the corner, her eyes fixed on John as he embarked on his quest within the darkened passageway. As his voice echoed through the labyrinthine corridors, a cacophony of screams erupted from the cells, a testament to the tumultuous power of his exorcism. Yet amidst the chaos, one figure remained eerily still.

A man sat beside the cell where the woman was confined, his gaze unwavering as he observed John's every move with a calculated intensity. While others succumbed to the frenzy of fear and desperation, his demeanor betrayed a sense of quiet contemplation, as if he harbored secrets that even the fervent prayers of the exorcist could not penetrate.

Despite the tremors of fear that coursed through him, John pressed on with his chanting, his resolve unshaken by the daunting task ahead. He refused to succumb to the creeping sense of dread that threatened to engulf him, drawing strength from an inner wellspring of determination.

Outside the hallowed sanctuary of the church, chaos reigned unchecked. The heavens roared with fury, dark clouds swirling ominously overhead. The relentless downpour lashed against the ancient stones, as if nature itself rebelled against the forces at play within the sacred walls. Each thunderous clap echoed like a warning, a harbinger of impending doom that seemed poised to consume the very foundation of the church and all who dared to challenge the darkness within. Yet, undeterred by the tempest raging outside, John continued his solitary vigil, steadfast in his mission to confront the malevolent forces that threatened to unravel the fabric of existence itself.

Amidst the tumultuous storm both within and without, John remained steadfast in his solemn ritual, his unwavering focus unyielding to the chaos that raged around him. Inside the confines of her cell, the woman's fear transformed into primal rage, her screams reverberating off the walls as she lashed out in terror and desperation.

Driven to the brink by the relentless barrage of John's exorcism, the darkness within her writhed and contorted, a sinister manifestation of the malevolent forces that held her captive. With a final, guttural cry, the oppressive presence erupted from her like a noxious cloud, its tendrils clawing at the air as it sought escape through the ventilation shafts.

Though the tempest outside continued to rage unabated, within the sanctity of the church, a moment of eerie calm descended as the malevolent entity fled into the night, vanquished by the unwavering determination of one man's faith.

As the echoes of the exorcism faded into the stillness of the church, a sense of relief washed over John, his exhaustion tempered by the satisfaction of his success. With a weary but content smile, he felt the weight of the holy book and the bottle of water in his hands, tangible reminders of the power of faith and perseverance.

Around him, the once-chaotic cells now lay silent, their occupants liberated from the clutches of malevolent forces. It was a victory not just for John, but for all those who had been ensnared by darkness.

The cleaning woman, her eyes wide with astonishment, hurried towards the exit, perhaps to spread word of the miraculous events she had witnessed. Meanwhile, the man who had observed John's efforts from the shadows approached him, his expression unreadable yet tinged with a newfound respect. In that moment of shared triumph, the bonds of their shared experience forged an unspoken connection, uniting them in the knowledge that even in the darkest of times, hope and courage could prevail. he asked,

- "You succeeded in your first exorcism. Are you studying to be an exorcist?."

John looked at him and smiled.

Years passed

In the solitary confines of his room, John sat absorbed in the pages of his book, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm halo around him. Oblivious to the encroaching shadows that silently crept closer behind him, he delved deeper into the words on the page, lost in the world of knowledge and imagination.

As the darkness loomed ever nearer, swallowing the edges of the room in its inky embrace, John remained unaware, his focus unbroken by the impending gloom. Little did he know, the quiet tranquility of his reading sanctuary was about to be shattered by the unwelcome intrusion of the unknown.

As the malevolent figure, cloaked in shadow and terror, drew closer to John, its grotesque features twisted into a sinister grin, its elongated eyes gleaming with malice. With each step, its form contorted and shifted, taking on an otherworldly appearance that seemed to defy the laws of nature.

With a tongue that slithered and writhed like a serpent, the entity hovered menacingly over John, its presence suffusing the room with an oppressive aura of dread. Yet, despite the palpable menace lurking just behind him, John remained immersed in his reading, his concentration unbroken by the encroaching darkness.

Unaware of the impending threat that loomed ominously over his shoulder, John continued to turn the pages of his book, oblivious to the sinister presence that now lurked just inches away from him.

As the room grew colder, John's senses prickled with unease. A creeping sensation hinted at an unseen presence lurking in the shadows. Casting wary glances around the room, he found nothing but the encroaching darkness.

Sudden apprehension seized him, compelling John to glance behind. In that fleeting moment, a terrifying figure materialized, its malevolent form looming ominously. Yet, as quickly as it appeared, the specter dissolved into nothingness.

Dismissive of his fears, John returned his focus to the book, determined to shake off the lingering unease. But the memory of the chilling encounter lingered, a reminder that even in the sanctuary of his room, darkness held secrets that could unsettle the bravest of souls.

As the ghostly apparition emerged from the pages of the book, its terrifying visage materialized before John, its ghastly features contorted in a grotesque display of horror. Any ordinary person would have been paralyzed with fear at the sight, but John remained remarkably composed.

With steely resolve, he met the ghost's gaze head-on, unfazed by the sheer terror of its presence. As the ghastly face loomed closer, John studied its features with a calm detachment, his demeanor betraying no hint of fear or panic.

Despite the overwhelming horror of the moment, John's unyielding composure stood as a testament to his inner strength and resilience. In the face of the supernatural, he remained steadfast, refusing to be cowed by the malevolent forces that sought to unsettle him.

he asked,

- "Will you ever quit?"

The ghost pulled itself a little back. Then it moved to the side and sat on his bed. It said,

-"Oh...! You are not fun anymore.

You could at least pretend to be scared."

The ghost's chilling voice softened into that of a sweet girl, its monstrous form shrinking into that of a sad teenage girl with a halo. Disappointed by her failed attempt to scare him, her demeanor reflected sadness. John, unfazed, met her gaze calmly. Despite her spectral appearance, he felt a flicker of empathy for her loneliness.

John asked,

- "Where did you learn to change your looks like that, Nat?."

She looked at him and said,

-"If you die and roam around the globe for countless years, you will pick up a trick or two."

Natasha, as she revealed herself, had been accompanying John since his early days of practicing exorcisms. He stumbled upon her during an exorcism of a cruel housewife, whose husband was a good man. Natasha, seeking refuge from her spectral existence, inhabited the woman's body, transforming her life into one of happiness alongside her loving husband. Grateful for John's intervention, Natasha remained by his side, their bond forged through the shared experiences of confronting darkness and offering redemption.

For 35 years, Natasha had resided within the woman's body until John intervened, freeing her from her long confinement. Grateful for her liberation, Natasha became inseparable from John, their bond strengthened by their shared mission to combat malevolent spirits.

Recognizing Natasha's unique abilities and her inherent goodness, John welcomed her into his life, making her an invaluable ally in his crusade against the forces of darkness. While John wielded the mystical powers of the holy book and holy water, Natasha complemented his efforts by confronting ghosts and evil entities physically, their combined efforts proving formidable against even the most sinister adversaries. Together, they formed a formidable team, united in their quest to bring light to the darkest corners of the supernatural realm.

Despite Natasha's physical limitations, John used his mystical abilities to weaken opposing spirits, giving her the advantage in their battles. Their symbiotic partnership proved highly effective, allowing them to work together seamlessly in their mission to combat malevolent entities.

As a priest-in-training specializing in demonic possessions and exorcisms, John's talent had garnered the attention of a missionary who took him under their wing for training. Though he excelled in his studies, John steadfastly refused to adopt the traditional attire of a priest, preferring to forge his own path in his unique calling.

With Natasha by his side, John honed his skills, guided by his unwavering determination to confront the forces of darkness and bring solace to those plagued by malevolent spirits. Together, they embarked on a journey fraught with danger and uncertainty, united by their shared mission and unbreakable bond.

John looked at her and asked,

-"Are you forgetting something?."

Natasha suddenly remembered. She said,

-"We have to leave right now.

Or that girl will be....