Chapter Text
Glory be to the Father,
When you are born into a family where faith is not just a virtue but the very air you breathe, sometimes it can choke you. A house of whispered prayers and rigid order, where the scent of candle wax mingled with the faint aroma of old, leather-bound Bibles. The place called mortal life was nothing more than a cage.
Father was a man of unshakable conviction, carved from the same stone as the saints he revered. He spoke little, but when he did, his words fell like commandments, undeniable and firm. He believed in discipline, in sacrifice, and in righteousness that left no room for doubt.
Mother, by contrast, was a quiet woman whose voice was soft and pure. She was the keeper of the home, the guardian of propriety, a sculptor shaping their faith into the very fabric of their days. Her love was expressed by silently waiting for you, while slowly molding your soul into something innocent and worthy.
and to the Son,
David was the golden child, the oldest among them, the one who shone the brightest, never fading, always the one who made the parents proud. A man who seemed to carry his family on his shoulders, always followed his father’s footsteps as though it were script written just for him. He believed even more in discipline than his father. For him, words weren’t enough to shape the younger ones, and his hand was equally hard and sharp so his faith. In a return of his loyalty, he will inherit the whole parents legacy.
Miriam, on the other hand, was more like her mother. The romantic. The one who loves God above all else, but in return, God loved her probably even more. Her beauty, both physical and spiritual, seemed to attract people like a flower attracts bees. Yet, she was different. She had chosen to reject all suitors, believing in a true love. She waited for the one, the one who would fulfill her dreams. And now, she had found him. She married, moved away with a child of his own.
And then, there was Ruth. Oh, Ruth. Her voice was a gift from heaven. A song of angels. She was always darling, the one who everyone adored. The church was her second home, her sanctuary. Parents looked at her as though she was something devine. Even her steps seemed lighter than normal humans, like her guardian angel carried her over the world.
and to the Holy Spirit.
Leah was the youngest, always placed at the dead end. Never seen, never heard. Friends were strangers to her. Hobbies were the concept beyond her reach. Her days passed in senseless motions, like a shadow on the edges of the story she wasn’t sure she belonged to. Nothing sparked her. Just a quiet existence that stretched in her road towards the end.
At times, she felt like an empty vessel, a hollow being. Her family, in their zealous attempts to instill faith and shape her, taught her the ways of virtue. The real and only one path of righteousness. In the past, people believed that to draw closer to God, one had to give up everything. Material possessions, desires, and even their sense of self, surrendering all to purify their souls. Her parents, too, demanded this from her. They stripped her of her individuality, her voice, and her desires, believing that only through such sacrifice could her soul be prepared for God’s will.
After school, she was locked in her room, isolated from the world, as though her thoughts were dangerous, threatening to lead her astray from the narrow path they had set for her. She was trapped in the confines of her worst enemy — her own mind. And in that solitude, a quiet hatred began to take root. She despised herself, because who else could she blame?
But her life on earth wasn’t meaningless. And that, it itself, was the worst part. The end of her road.
As it was in the beginning, is now,
In this world, some families are more devoted to God than others. For the sake of humanity, and for generations, the youngest child has been offered as a sacrifice to demons. A cold-blooded ritual that ensures the family's standing in society while simultaneously protecting mankind from the wrath of these dark forces. In return, the demon to whom the child is dedicated gains another personal servant, a soul from which it can feed.
These souls differ from those of sinners, for while sinners are condemned to Purgatory, awaiting judgment on whether they will fall into Hell or ascend to Heaven. The souls of the sacrificed children — known as the Profanis — are immediately cast into Hell. Their fate is sealed from the moment of their sacrifice, bound forever to the demon, never to rise, only to serve in eternal damnation. The energy of their soul is devoured by the very creature to which they were devoted, consumed without mercy for all eternity.
and ever shall be,
Her entire life had been shaped by the singular purpose of preparing for her descent into Hell. It was the way it had to be, the path that was set before her, and now she was on the final stretch. Now, only a few months remained before her twentieth birthday, when the ritual would take place, sealing her fate for eternity. There was no escape, this was her destiny, her calling, her purpose. The life she had lived, the days spent in quiet obedience and silence, had all been leading to this moment. And now, as the days slipped away, she stood at the edge, knowing the end was near. The final act of surrender was approaching, and with it, the eternity that awaited her.
And she will never be free.
world without end.
Just as the Virgin Mary ascended to Heaven and found eternal rest, she would descend into Hell, and the gates of Hell would close behind her. Forever.
𝒜𝓂𝑒𝓃~