Chapter 121 – How to Stop a Demon from Escaping
"Oh my God… I locked the doll in the cabinet before I left! How is it out there!?"
Mia clapped a trembling hand over her mouth.
"It seems your absence alerted the spirit," Lorraine said gravely, her expression darkening.
"Mrs. Mia," Gideon reminded gently, "drink the holy water. Now."
Mia nodded quickly, fumbling with the cap. She sniffed it first — the faint metallic tang of salt made her hesitate.
Gideon's eyes stayed fixed on her, unwavering. Only when he was certain the woman's aura remained untainted did he allow himself a small nod.
"My baby… she doesn't have to drink it, right?" Mia asked carefully.
"Of course not."
Gideon smiled faintly as he crouched beside the stroller. "Children are under the protection of divine law."
The others blinked, not quite understanding his words. But when Gideon gently patted the little girl's hair, baby Leah giggled — as if responding to something unseen.
Then Gideon stood and faced the group.
"Everyone, listen carefully. I'll be going up to deal with that thing."
He pointed toward the balcony above.
"But before I do, there are a few rules you must remember."
The air grew still. Lorraine, Ed, even Mia — all held their breath.
"If nothing goes wrong," Gideon continued, "the doll will likely move down here once I leave."
It was the classic horror pattern — whenever the strongest member left, the evil made its move.
"But as long as you stay inside this boundary," Gideon said, tracing a line on the ground with his boot, "you'll be safe."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"You may see things. Or… people." His tone hardened.
"But remember this — whatever you see, whatever you hear — they are illusions."
His words carried weight like thunder.
"Demons use false images to draw you out," he warned. "It's the oldest trick in both Eastern and Western exorcisms — and the one that kills the most teams."
Lorraine nodded solemnly. "Yes… demonic entities can interfere with neural frequencies — it causes visual and auditory deception."
Gideon's eyes shifted toward Mia. "Especially you, Mrs. Mia."
Her heart skipped.
"If you suddenly find your baby missing from the stroller — or see your husband bleeding on the street after a car accident—"
He leaned forward slightly.
"It's not real."
Mia swallowed hard. "Y… yes, Father. I'll remember."
"Repeat it," Gideon ordered calmly.
She glanced at Lorraine, who nodded reassuringly.
"I swear… if Leah suddenly disappears… or if I see John hurt… I won't believe it. I'll stay where I am."
Only then did Gideon nod with approval.
Ed leaned toward Lorraine and whispered, "This guy's good."
Gideon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There's one more thing."
In his mind, he ran through possible outcomes. If Annabelle sensed danger, she'd try to flee. She might even use the wind to propel herself away when thrown or dropped.
But he'd already prepared for that. Around the entire apartment, Gideon had placed relics blessed with twenty-year sanctity — ancient and potent.
That route was sealed.
So the spirit would take the next logical path: descend toward Mia and the others, using hallucinations to trick them.
As long as no one stepped into the doll's radius of influence, the damage would be minimal.
Of course, in horror — things never stayed minimal.
So after briefing Mia, Gideon insisted she and the child stay away from the apartment whenever possible.
He even assigned Lorraine to stay with her, partly for safety… and partly to monitor.
When all was ready, Gideon turned his attention to the final potential escape route — the neighbors.
The building still had residents.
If cornered, Annabelle might try to possess one of them instead.
Which meant it was time to deploy his final safeguard — the carpet-purge method.
A full spiritual sweep.
He grabbed his satchel, taking out a vial of aged holy water.
The liquid shimmered faintly in the afternoon light.
"Father Gideon!"
He turned — little Judy tugged at his sleeve, eyes bright.
"Can I go with you?"
Ever since helping at the exhibition, Judy's fear of the supernatural had shifted into fascination.
She'd even accompanied her mother on smaller cleansing missions lately.
"Father Gideon," Lorraine added softly, "if possible… please let her learn from you."
Gideon hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He remembered her natural sensitivity — and Lorraine's own belief in letting Judy learn through controlled exposure.
"Fine," he said. "But Ed, you're coming too."
That way, even if he was occupied, someone could protect the girl.
After quickly blessing and equipping the father and daughter with talismans, Gideon led them forward.
He began reciting from the Rite of Exorcism, dipping his fingers in the twenty-year holy water, sprinkling it rhythmically as they advanced.
Where the droplets fell, shadows recoiled.
Every drop marked new ground the evil could no longer claim.
Within minutes, they reached the first floor.
Gideon placed a small statue of the Virgin at the stairwell's center.
Instantly, the space changed — the authority of the Church saturated the air.
The area became holy ground.
As long as the statue remained, its claim would not fade.
But still, Gideon wasn't satisfied.
In every horror story, once the priest left, someone would "accidentally" open a door…
trip over something…
and knock over the holy statue.
That was exactly why he'd come in person — to make sure this time, there'd be no such "accident."
He rapped lightly on the nearest door.
Knock, knock.
A moment later, the door creaked open — revealing a heavyset Black woman in a floral robe.
"Oh, man! Two fine boys knockin' on my door," she said in a smooth, sing-song rhythm.
"My bed's been waitin' for someone to come sniff around."
Her tone was so confident, so melodically sassy, that both Gideon and Ed froze mid-sentence.
Little Judy stuck out her tongue and covered her ears.
The woman wasn't done — she broke into an impromptu rap verse, full of "Damn!" and "bro!" between lines of unapologetic attitude.
It took Gideon several patient minutes (and a lot of awkward smiles) to finally get his point across:
Stay inside, no matter what happens. Don't open the door.
She gave him a wide grin.
"Damn, you such a sweet boy!"
Then she blew him a kiss, shut the door, and threw the lock.
Gideon sighed, wiping his forehead. "Next door's yours," he told Ed, stepping aside.
Meanwhile, outside Dawnlight Apartments…
The very moment Gideon, Ed, and Judy had entered the building, Annabelle had already begun to move.
As a high-tier demonic spirit, the doll immediately sensed something was wrong.
Never before had it felt such pure divine energy emanating from a human being.
That presence — Gideon's — triggered a flicker of unease.
And now, the two souls it had marked—Mia and her child—had left the apartment.
It decided to retreat, to wait for a more favorable opportunity.
A faint wind swept across the balcony.
The doll twitched once… then toppled over the railing.
It fell gracefully at first, its small porcelain body catching the wind, gliding outward toward the open street.
Then—
Thud.
A muffled impact.
Annabelle had struck something invisible mid-air.
Its head tilted slightly, the black eyes rolling, unblinking.
For the first time, it hesitated.
A barrier?
Impossible.
It was a fragment of hell itself, a splinter of an archdemon's will —
other spirits cowered before it.
How could some mortal priest possibly stop it?
Enraged, Annabelle began to emit waves of black energy, slamming repeatedly into the unseen wall.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
But no matter how many times it struck, the barrier held firm.
When the doll finally hit the ground, the invisible wall shimmered faintly like glass, then vanished.
Annabelle's expression never changed — but deep within its glossy black eyes, a ripple of panic gleamed.
Something about this place was wrong.
Lorraine heard the faint noise from behind and instinctively turned.
Just in time to see the doll hit the pavement.
"Father Gideon was right…" she whispered, her pulse quickening.
She grabbed Mia's arm and pulled her farther away from the building.
But Annabelle was not finished.
Though its teleportation ability had never failed before, tonight — it was completely useless.
It was trapped.
Still, any seasoned demon always had backup plans.
So, it tried something else.
A moment later, out on the street, Lorraine and Mia heard a familiar voice — ragged and desperate.
"Mi… Mia— cough— help me… please!"
Mia froze. Her eyes went wide with disbelief.
"John?! That's— that's my husband's voice!"