Elizabeth and Charles continued to walk through the dark, flooded streets of the city.
"I am tired," Elizabeth gasped, her legs shaking from exhaustion. "We have been walking since the shrine."
"Mama... mama," baby Serena began to cry, her tiny fists clenching.
"She hasn't eaten since yesterday," Elizabeth said, panic rising in her throat. "What do we do?"
"Let's just keep going," Charles urged, looking over his shoulder for the shadow.
Elizabeth walked up to a random, gated compound and knocked on the heavy iron door, but no one replied. Defeated, she noticed a small, humble church nearby. She walked over and slid down the exterior wall, resting her head against the cold concrete.
"Sorry, Serena," Elizabeth whispered, tears falling down her face. "I am so sorry."
She shifted her worn clothes and offered her breast to the crying baby. "I will feed you now. I am so sorry for making you wait."
Serena latched on immediately, her crying stopping as she drank.
Elizabeth smiled through her tears, looking down at the innocent child. "It's sweet, right? You love it."
Charles squatted beside them, wrapping his arms around his wife and child. "I will give my daughter the best life," he swore quietly into the night.
"Serena will be the kindest and nicest person ever," Elizabeth wept, rubbing the baby's soft hair. "I want you to be rich, and kind, and to give to the poor. Always remember love, because we were once poor. You will be the best girl ever. My pretty girl."
Serena unlatched, looking up with her striking blue eyes. "Dada... dada... mama," she babbled softly before drifting off to sleep against her mother's chest.
Elizabeth looked at Charles and smiled, a moment of pure, desperate warmth. "Forget the insults from earlier. I love you, Charles."
"I love you too," Charles whispered. He leaned in, and they kissed, finding a shred of hope in the darkness.
A few feet away, hidden entirely in the pitch-black alleyway, Azathoth stood watching them.
The Creator of the Void was not smiling. His face was contorted into a mask of pure, unadulterated disgust. He ground his teeth together, the sound like stone scraping against stone. The sheer display of human hope, love, and resilience in the face of absolute despair infuriated him.
Unable to stand the sight of it, Azathoth vanished into the void.
The Sanctuary of the White Germ
The couple slept on the hard concrete outside the church doors.
The next morning, Pastor Callen stepped outside to unlock the gates. He looked down at the shivering family with deep sadness. He gently woke them up and invited them inside the warm, quiet sanctuary.
Callen sat them down in the pews and handed them water. "What happened to you?"
Elizabeth immediately dropped to her knees. "Please! Please, Pastor. We need a place to sleep. We need shelter! We have always been struggling, and yesterday... we went to do a ritual for money. And now a demon is after us!"
Pastor Callen's eyes softened. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "No demon is above Astragel. Astragel is above everything. He exists above all."
"So His name is Astragel," Elizabeth breathed out, looking at baby Serena. "Astragel will always be there. He will protect you from the demon. He is always there for you."
Charles stood up nervously. "Do you have any holy protection against evil? Against the demon?"
"Of course," the Pastor smiled warmly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glowing, crystalline necklace. He gently placed it around baby Serena's neck.
Up on the rusted roof of the church, looking down through a cracked skylight, Azathoth froze.
Absolute shock and disbelief crossed the God's face. He stared at the glowing stone resting on the baby's chest.
"The White Germ," Azathoth whispered in the shadows.
A dark, calculating smile spread across his face. "Interesting."
He vanished into the wind.
Inside, Pastor Callen looked at Charles. "I will give you a job as a night guard."
"Thank you so much!" Charles gasped. "I am also a good mechanic!"
"Perfect," Callen nodded. "You will be in charge of repairing our generator. I will pay you from the church funds."
Elizabeth wiped her eyes. "Thank you. What can I do? I can clean your church! I can be the cleaner!"
"Don't worry," Pastor Callen said kindly. "You can stay in the boys' quarters behind my house for free. I welcome you. There is no need to work yourself to the bone. I will feed you and take care of you."
Elizabeth broke down in heavy, heaving sobs. "Why are you doing this?! Why are you doing this to strangers?! What did we do to deserve such kindness?!"
The Pastor smiled softly. "Some people like me still exist. I love being kind. That is all."
Seven Years of Peace
For seven years, they prayed, fasted, and believed they were safe. For seven years, the devil did not arrive.
Little Serena, now a beautiful, bright-eyed girl, ran across the church courtyard toward her mother and Pastor Callen.
"Tomorrow is my birthday, Mommy!" Serena cheered, jumping up and down. "Tomorrow is when I become sevennnn!"
Callen smiled, tapping the glowing necklace still resting on her chest. "I told you, Elizabeth. With the White Germ, no evil can come."
"Thank you so much, Pastor," Elizabeth smiled warmly. "But... where is your family? We have been here for years, and I haven't seen them."
Callen's smile faltered slightly. "They died in an unfortunate car accident."
"I am so sorry," Elizabeth whispered.
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Serena tugged on Elizabeth's dress. "Mommy, where is Daddy?"
Elizabeth smiled down at her. "Daddy is at work, guarding the gate. He will be back in the morning."
"I hope Daddy will attend my birthday party!" Serena beamed.
"Of course, my love," Elizabeth kissed her forehead. "Let's go to sleep. It is late at night."
They thought they had escaped the demon. They thought the holy sanctuary and the glowing necklace had saved them.
But Azathoth had not forgotten. He was simply waiting for the girl to turn seven.
The Blood Contract
Elizabeth woke up in the dead of night to a sickening, wet sound. Slap. Squish. Slap.
She opened her eyes and froze in absolute horror.
The walls of their small bedroom were entirely painted in fresh, dripping blood. Standing in the center of the room, casually holding a dripping paintbrush, was Azathoth.
"Good morning," Azathoth smiled cheerfully in the dark.
"Get the fuck away!" Elizabeth screamed, scrambling backward on the bed.
"Shhh, come on," Azathoth put a bloody finger to his lips, pointing at the sleeping seven-year-old beside her. "You will wake the little girl up. We don't want to spoil the surprise."
Elizabeth began to hyperventilate, tears spilling down her face. "By the name of God, I cast you away!"
Azathoth rolled his eyes, whispering to himself. "I just remembered how proud Alexander the Great was. He actually thought he was the son of Zeus." Azathoth shook his head in amusement. "I wish he and Luciferio had a one-on-one talk. That bastard Alexander."
"What are you saying?!" Elizabeth cried, pulling Serena behind her.
"It's nothing," Azathoth sighed, dropping the bloody brush. "Give me full parental authority, or I will kill your baby right now, and I will torment her soul forever."
"Who the fuck are you?!" Elizabeth shrieked. "What are you?! Just what are you?!"
"I am God," Azathoth stated simply.
"Liar! Lies!" Elizabeth screamed in pure terror. "Stop telling lies! Stop it! God is good! You are a liar!"
"I made your daughter to reflect me," Azathoth explained, stepping closer. "I created her blueprint specifically for my will and my purpose. If anything tries to stop me... I will show the absolute wrath and anger of the Void."
"You are not God! Stop telling lies!"
"Then I will just kill her right now, and we can let your 'God' protect you," Azathoth offered, raising a hand wrapped in dark magic.
Elizabeth didn't hesitate. She grabbed the sleeping Serena, leaped off the bed, and sprinted across the room toward the wooden door. She yanked the handle and threw herself through the doorway, expecting to hit the cool night air of the church compound.
Instead, she stumbled into a nightmare.
She was no longer in her bedroom. She was in a massive, cavernous room entirely flooded with ankle-deep blood. In the center of the room stood a grotesque, towering demonic statue with massive, jagged horns.
Elizabeth whipped her head around in a panic. Her arms were empty.
She looked back. Azathoth was standing near the statue, holding the sleeping Serena in one arm.
"With all this noise, and she is still asleep," Azathoth chuckled darkly.
"Please! Let her go!" Elizabeth begged, dropping to her knees in the blood.
Azathoth placed his large, cold hands on Serena's head.
"Let her go!" Elizabeth screamed. "I will fucking sign it! I will do it!"
Azathoth smiled. He pulled a piece of old, dark parchment from the air. "Sign it with your blood."
"What do you want with her?!"
"You don't really have a choice," Azathoth said boredly, his hands tightening on the child's skull. "I will crush her head now. Five. Four..."
"Wait! I will sign it! Don't kill her!" Elizabeth wept, crawling forward through the blood. "I am sorry, but she is my hope and my dream! I can't let her die!"
"Just sign it already," Azathoth sighed, rolling his glowing eyes. He whispered to himself, "It's not as if Simon will matter much in the grand scheme anyway... Luciferio is the real upgrade."
"How do I sign it?" Elizabeth sobbed, reaching for the paper.
Azathoth handed her a tiny, incredibly sharp knife. "Cut yourself and sign it. It's simple."
Elizabeth looked at the knife. She looked at her sleeping daughter. A fierce, desperate mother's rage overtook her fear.
"NOOOOOOO!" Elizabeth screamed.
She lunged forward, thrusting the knife directly at Azathoth's chest.
Azathoth didn't even blink. He simply swiped his free hand through the air.
With a sickening CRACK, Elizabeth's head was violently ripped from her shoulders. Blood erupted like a geyser from her severed neck, showering the floor. Her decapitated body slumped forward, splashing into the pool of blood.
Azathoth caught her severed head by the hair. "Stupid woman," he muttered in annoyance.
He walked over to the towering demonic statue. He brutally slammed Elizabeth's severed head onto the left horn, the jagged stone piercing through her skull. He then picked up her decapitated body and impaled it on the right horn.
Blood dripped down the stone face of the idol.
Azathoth turned his attention to the little girl lying on the floor. He knelt down, his dark shadow enveloping her completely.
"Wakey, wakey," Azathoth whispered softly. "Wake up, little one."
Seven-year-old Serena slowly rubbed her striking blue eyes. She yawned and sat up.
"Mommy?" Serena called out sleepily.
She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the shadow of the devil, smiling at her in the dark.