"We need to go," Frieda grabbed Haatim's arm and tried to draw him back into the car. "It's over."
He refused to believe that; it couldn't end like this. Somewhere in the horde of demons, he could feel Abigail. She trembled with weakness. The fight raged inside her, like two titans battling for survival where one of them would, eventually, get destroyed. They clashed against one another for control and domination.
He sensed that Abigail stood on the losing end.
"She's still in there." He pulled his arm loose and took a step toward the demons. The ground shook underfoot, but not from the portal. Now, the cracks in the pavement expanded, and the entire town neared collapse. It became difficult to keep his balance while the rifts collapsed in on themselves. "She needs my help."
"She's gone," Frieda said. "It's over; we need to go. Before it's too late."
"We can't leave her!"
"She's right," Arthur said, with heaviness in his voice, and pain etched in every line of his face. "Abigail has gone."
Frieda grabbed his arm once more and dragged him toward the car. Haatim glanced behind. Dominick sat in the driver's seat, frowning at him. He didn't say anything, but his eyes held no hope.
He believed, like Frieda and Arthur, that Abigail had become lost to them. They all believed that the demon had control now and that the integration had completed. They couldn't imagine a way in which they might help her, and they remained right that it had come time to leave.
Not for him, though. He refused to accept that Abigail would lose this fight and her identity. Though this could only stay as her fight, he wouldn't let her face it alone. After everything that had happened, everything they had been through, it couldn't end this way.
It wouldn't.
Haatim jerked free once more and rushed forward, running to the throng of demons and Abigail. Frieda called something behind him, stepping out of the vehicle and trying to follow.
"Go," he shouted. "Leave me."
He recited a sutra chant, something that had always made him feel calm and relaxed, and focused on the words. Haatim drew strength from them, using them to focus what remained of his energy and tapping deep into his reserves.
Father Paladina's words echoed in his memory: "When you can control your abilities, you can send these creatures back from whence they came." Back in that Roman basement, facing a chained demon in the dark, Haatim had barely been able to sense his gift. Now, with Abigail's life at stake and everything they'd fought for hanging in the balance, he pushed past every limit he'd ever known. The desperation unlocked something deep within him—something primal and powerful that terrified him even as he embraced it.
This wasn't the tentative channeling he'd practiced in Rome. This was something else entirely—fueled by love and fear and an absolute refusal to let Abigail face this alone. It burned through him, consuming his reserves at an alarming rate. Father Paladina had warned him about tapping into his soul, but Haatim no longer cared about the cost.
Something had changed in him since the rescue in Hell. When he'd nearly sacrificed his soul to save Arthur, he'd pushed his channeling ability past every limit Father Paladina had warned him about. He should have died—or worse, been trapped forever in that dimension. Instead, Arthur had pulled him back from the brink, and in doing so, something fundamental had shifted.
His connection to the spiritual realm had deepened. Where before he could sense demons and channel energy in small bursts, now he could feel the fabric that separated this world from the darkness beyond. The power terrified him, but right now, he didn't care.
The rift expanded, and the ground tore asunder as the Earth weakened and collapsed. It acted as a giant sinkhole, and everything fell into it. Already, jagged cracks had split apart and now widened and expanded. At this rate, in no time at all, it would have swallowed the entire town.
Haatim rushed toward the demons, and they parted before him. They fled from him, climbing over each other to get away, and the ones that proved too slow simply ceased to exist. His Gift ripped through them—not a physical force, but something deeper. It severed their hold on this world, commanded them back to the hell from which they'd crawled, exactly as Father Paladina had promised. The chained demon in that Roman basement had been practice. This was the real thing.
A hellhound lunged at him from the side. Haatim didn't flinch—he turned toward it and channeled, and the beast exploded into smoke and ash mid-leap, banished before its claws could reach him. Two more came, and two more vanished. Each banishment cost him, draining reserves he couldn't afford to lose, but the path to Abigail opened before him like a wound.
The power flowing through him bore no resemblance to the weak pulses he'd managed months ago when Nida had nearly killed him. That Haatim—the one who'd lain broken in an alleyway in Cambodia—was a different person entirely. Everything he'd been through since then had forged him into something new.
Coldness stole over him, but he couldn't stop. Determined, he continued to force his way through the horde. They closed in behind him, cutting him off from his friends. As soon as his barrier fell, they would attack and rip him to shreds.
That didn't stop him, though, and he kept going, pushing to the center. Abigail stood right in the middle of it all, near one of the rifts. Her open eyes glowed red, and her face bore a mask of pain and rage.
Haatim stumbled toward her, his Gift flickering like a candle in a storm. He doubted he could drag her away. Doubted he could hold the barrier for more than a few seconds. Out of ideas, he continued chanting, finishing the sutra.
Surgat wouldn't let him get close to her. Most probably, it would kill him just for trying. Still, he had to make the attempt.
A violent shudder rocked the ground, and he tripped, falling forward and landing hard on his chest. He hit his head on the pavement and lost focus on his chant. Dazed, he forced himself to sit up. The demons hadn't approached yet, still afraid of what remained of his power, but he wouldn't manage to recreate the barrier. Once they realized it, they would eat him alive.
He stood and hurried toward Abigail. She spun, staring at him, face contorting violently.
The demon had control of her body once more. Whatever remained of Abigail had almost lost the fight and would soon get snuffed out. He could barely sense her anymore, and the internal battle wound down.
However, he had to try.
"Abigail." He took a step toward her. The ground continued to shake, and he had to raise his voice. "Abigail, please. I know you're in there."
"The girl has gone," Abigail said, her voice deep and guttural. The piercing red eyes bored into him, digging through his soul. "This body is mine."
"Not so. I can feel her in there, fighting. Please, Abigail, I know you can hear me."
"You know nothing. Not yet, at least. Soon, though."
Abigail stood next to one of the rifts, and it went further down than the light could reach.
"I know you're in there, Abigail," Haatim said. "I don't want to speak to this demon. I want to speak to you."
It took a step toward him, and he fought down the urge to flinch.
"I told you; she's dead."
"Then, so am I. If Abigail has gone, then just kill me. You should find it easy, right? I won't even try to stop you."
The demon took another step, then hesitated midstride. A confused expression crossed Abigail's face. A flash of fear from the demon, quickly replaced by rage.
"I knew she remained in there," Haatim whispered. "Abigail, please. If you can hear me, you have to fight this."
A moment passed. The ground continued to shudder. The cracks in the pavement widened. It sounded like thunder in the distance as different sections of the town fell into the rifts. They expanded near him, and all too soon, this section of the town would collapse as well.
Time had all but run out.
"You can do it, Abigail. I know you can. You can push it back."
"I can't," she said, her voice cracking. And it had become her voice once more; the demon forced aside temporarily. "Please, run, Haatim. Don't make me kill you."
"I won't go anywhere. I know you can do this. You can gain control."
"It's too much. I tried and lost. The demon has won."
"It hasn't won while you remain."
"I don't have strength enough."
"No, I refuse to believe that."
"It's inevitable," the demon said, regaining control. It took another step toward Haatim, only a few meters away. "She will fall to me."
"You won't fail," Haatim said, still speaking only to Abigail. "Don't listen to the demon; focus on my voice. Only on my voice."
Another step from the demon, but this one wavering. It held a knife, which looked jagged. Haatim imagined it ripping into his stomach, cutting him open. He envisioned himself, lying on the pavement and bleeding out only moments before the town collapsed, and he disappeared into the world below.
He thought to try and channel again, to call upon whatever power coursed through him to help Abigail. Maybe he could help her push back the demon.
However, something inside him knew that as untrue. For one thing, he had nothing left to channel—the Gift had burned through everything he had clearing the path to reach her. And more importantly, it would be wrong to interfere. Whatever this battle was, he couldn't help with it. This had to remain Abigail's fight, and hers alone.
His Gift had brought him here. It had cleared the path, banished the demons that stood between them. That was what Father Paladina had trained him for—not to fight this battle, but to reach the person who could.
"I … can't … Haatim. Please, I beg you. Run!"
"No," he said, speaking softer now. "I shan't go anywhere. Either you'll win this, or the demon will kill me. You have to choose."
"Not a choice! I can't stop it. The last time Surgat came to Earth, they tried everything possible to control him, but nothing worked. What chance do I have?"
"The difference between last time and this time." Haatim stepped forward and put his hand on Abigail's arm. The muscles tensed, but she didn't pull away. "You. Abigail, you are strong enough to handle this. When we first met, you saved my life, and you didn't even have to. You are the most amazing, selfless, and caring person I've ever come across, and if anyone can overcome this and win, you can."
The hand holding the knife moved up, shaking, and stopped an inch from Haatim's throat. He refused to move or flinch, staring straight into Abigail's eyes. They remained red, but now flecks of brown had mixed in as she tried to regain control.
A crack spread near them, only a few meters away. The ground under his feet became unsteady, soon to fall, and Haatim doubted he could get away from it even if he tried. The building to his right ripped apart, fragmenting from the foundation up to the roof, and collapsed into the nothingness below.
The crevices seemed to go on forever. He imagined falling into one of the holes and held no doubt it would take a long time for him to reach the bottom. Abigail had more strength, but they'd run out of time. He needed to reach her and convince her that she could do this.
"You risked your future to try and save Arthur from hell, and then you risked your life saving the people of Raven's Peak from a demonic threat that you didn't even have responsibility for. You didn't know those people. You didn't owe them anything, and yet you still felt willing to give up your life to save them."
"That doesn't make you intelligent," the demon said. "It makes you a fool."
"It makes you brave," Haatim said. "It meant you had the willingness to stand up to any threat and protect anyone no matter what the cost. It makes you a hero. You don't think you can beat this demon, but I know you can because you are the most selfless and courageous person I've ever met. If anyone in the world can deal with this, it's you."
"I failed once already."
"You hadn't readied for it then. This time, you have."
The eyes grew unfocused while the battle raged inside Abigail's body. Next to them, the crack came dangerously close, but Haatim didn't move. The rift had cut him off from his only avenue of escape and made it impossible to get away.
"If I have it wrong, Abigail, then just let go. Let the demon kill me. If I have it wrong, then just give up and stop fighting."
"Haatim, please, leave. I don't want to kill you."
He closed his eyes, sure that death reached for him, no matter what happened. The ground shuddered, the crevice expanded, and he had just a few centimeters of solid ground left on which to stand.
"I know," he said. "But, will you save me?"
He took a step back, to the edge of the crevice, and let go of Abigail's arm. Then, with a sad smile, he fell back into the rift.
The darkness swallowed him.
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