Title – The Queen of Darkness
Evening clouds loomed low as Zahira and the priest walked towards the ancient church—each step heavier than the last. The air was thick with dread, every breath trembled with the weight of unspoken fear. The spirit of vengeance, once lurking in shadows, now burned with rage. Its eyes—two pits of pure damnation—watched from a distance, waiting.
Meanwhile, in the monastery, Aryan couldn't sit still. He felt like his soul was being ripped apart.
"I'll be back in two minutes," he muttered, almost inaudibly, before sprinting past Ilyas and Sajiya.
"Aryan! Where are you going?" Sajiya called after him, but he was already gone.
His thoughts raced.
Not this time. I won't let Zahira die. I won't lose my child. Even if I have to face death itself… I'll stop it. I'll stop him.
Back at the church, Zahira and the priest reached the weathered wooden doors. The spirit was already there—its presence warping the air like heat off a scorched desert. It stood motionless, waiting.
The priest turned to Zahira, his voice trembling, "My child, it's time. This is the only way to save your baby… and stop that cursed soul once and for all."
Zahira's eyes welled with tears. She nodded silently.
Almost evening. The final hour.
She stepped inside, towards the altar—towards the ancient weapon blessed to hold darkness at bay. Her fingers wrapped around it. The moment her skin touched the metal, a surge of power rushed through her veins like wildfire.
Her eyes burned into molten lava. Her hair turned smoky, floating as if underwater.
Zahra's consciousness had awakened.
The spirit sensed it. The rare blood. The unstoppable force. No more fear—only wrath.
The priest gasped. "Zahira! Hurry! Kill him before Zahra fully takes over your mind!"
With barely a moment to think, Zahira burst out of the church. The spirit turned, shocked to see her—no, her. This wasn't the fearful woman it once taunted.
"You wanted my child's soul?" Zahira growled, voice distorted, layered with Zahra's echo. "Then come and try!"
The spirit lunged, but she was faster—blindingly fast. It couldn't even touch her.
She grabbed it by the throat, lifting it off the ground like a doll.
"You want to hurt my family? I will erase you. I will burn your existence out of this world!"
The spirit gasped, choked, squirmed. But Zahra had taken full control now. With a sharp cry, she raised the weapon and slashed. One clean cut.
The spirit vanished into ash and smoke.
And then… she laughed. Mad. Wild. Terrifying.
The priest stared in horror. "No… it's too late. Zahra has taken over."
"Begin the ritual!" he screamed to his students. "We must trap her—safely!"
But Zahra heard. Her eyes narrowed. "Trap me?"
Before they could react, she attacked—slaughtering every monk, every student one by one. Blood on the church floor. Screams echoing through the dusk.
Only the priest remained, crawling in fear.
She leaned close to him. "I'm free at last," she whispered. "And I'm never going back. Anyone who tries... will die."
She laughed again—hollow, cruel, triumphant.
Then—
"Aryan…" she stopped.
He stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard, staring at the carnage.
He saw the priest's body… the lifeless monks… and then her.
She looked like Zahira. But this… wasn't Zahira.
She stood tall, glowing with unholy energy, her eyes still red, the weapon dripping with blood.
Aryan's heart broke.
It was like Rayan seeing Zahra for the first time—but twisted. A memory now corrupted.
He stepped forward.
Zahra smirked. "Who are you, little boy? Get out of here. Or I'll do to you what I did to them."
Aryan didn't flinch. "Zahira… I know you can hear me. I'm Aryan. Please… come back."
"Zahira?" she laughed coldly. "I am Zahra! Queen of Darkness. Death incarnate. No one can stop me now."
Aryan's eyes watered. "This isn't you. It's your past. It's the darkness trying to take over. But you're stronger than that."
She screamed in rage, raising her weapon.
"You talk too much. Time to shut you up!"
She marched towards him, weapon gleaming. But Aryan didn't run.
"I'm not afraid of you," he whispered. "Because I love you."
She was inches away now. The weapon high above.
"I love you, Zahira. Come back to me… our child needs you. I need you."
Zahra's hand trembled.
He stepped closer.
And hugged her.
Tight.
No fear. No hesitation.
Just love.
Zahra froze. Her hand dropped. The weapon clanged on the stones. Her breath caught. For a moment, she didn't feel like the Queen of Darkness. She felt like a girl in love, like someone who once sat under the stars with Aryan and laughed.
Her body went limp. She collapsed in his arms—unconscious.
Aryan caught her, lifting her like a fallen angel. He carried her inside the blood-stained church, laid her gently by the altar, and sat by her feet. His eyes stayed open all night, just watching her breathe.
---
The Next Morning
Sunlight filtered through the broken stained-glass windows. Zahira stirred.
"Aryan…" she whispered, her voice dry. "What happened? Why are we here?"
He looked up with a tired smile.
"You're safe now," he said softly. "We're safe."
She looked around. The silence felt off. She sniffed the air.
"…Why does it smell like… blood?"
She stood and went outside. The sight struck her cold—bodies. The priest. The monks.
"Who… who did this?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Aryan hesitated. Then looked her in the eyes.
"The spirit is gone. That's all that matters now. You and our baby… are alive."
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry…"
He hugged her again.
Back at the monastery, Sajiya paced nervously.
When Aryan and Zahira entered, she spun around.
"WHERE were you?! You said two minutes! It's been a whole day!"
Ilyas laughed in relief, but when they saw Zahira—healthy, calm, and smiling—everything else melted away.
They all hugged.
---
But… was this really the end?
Was the spirit truly gone?
And what of Zahra?
Was she buried forever—or simply sleeping—waiting in some dark corner of Zahira's mind?
A shadow stirred in the wind.
Somewhere deep inside Zahira, something still whispered:
"I'm not finished yet."