The Darkness in the Light

My twin sister Alesia was the epitome of kindness in my town and was considered a saint by the congregation. Priests and nuns labelled her an “angel” and encouraged her to be more selfless, regardless of the situation. It was as if their definition of an angel was the same as that of a doormat. However, at the same time, there were those envious of her who often called her “too good to be true”. They often mocked her as being fake. I hated both these sides; they only projected their own ideals at her and never took into account how she truly felt.

But Alesia wasn’t the only one whom the town had divided views on: while she was the “angel”, I was the “demon”, the “witch”. Unlike Alesia, I would not allow people to walk all over me, and I certainly did not keep quiet about the indifferences many of us faced by the self-righteous zealots in the congregation. It was one of the many reasons why I stopped attending mass in my early teens. The clergy tried to have me return to church, but I refused, asking what good a witch would be in a church.

As time passed, I lost many friends. Even a lot of my relatives dropped contact with me. My parents eventually stopped pleading with me to go to church, but the disappointment in their faces never waned. It was just Alesia who didn’t judge me; I was glad she was my sister. We grew closer over the years and learned from each other: Alesia helped me be more patient and show more restraint, while I guided her on how to spot people who only wished to take advantage of her kindness. Although it took some work, she learned to be more assertive sooner than I expected.

Things seemed normal in my life until, one night, I suddenly started to hear voices in my head as I slept. I could never fully recall what it was that they said after waking up. All I knew was that it had something to do with Alesia. This continued for a month before I decided to see a therapist. However, therapy and medicine had no effect whatsoever: in the weeks that followed, the voices only grew louder and clearer. At one point, I was woken up by the voice while it was still talking to me, and what I saw was something unimaginable. Before me was a figure cloaked in shadow—a mass of black mist with multiple eyes whose presence choked the entire room with an icy grip.

“Do not fear, my name is Alastor. I’m an angel.” The voice reverberated throughout the room.

“Wh-what are you?” I started to shiver. “And what do you want?”

“Alesia’s in danger. A demon seeks to corrupt her soul to break a seal hidden beneath this town.”

Nothing they said made sense. “What seal? Why her?”

“It’s a six-hundred-year-old seal holding back the vengeful spirit of a witch who fell in love with a demon called Azazel. I was the one who helped this town exorcise the demon and drive it back to hell, but her powers were far too potent to be sealed the same way.”

Alastor said that the witch could only be brought back with a spell that required the sacrificing of someone pure of heart, someone untouched by sin. They said that Alesia’s unnatural will was a result of Azazel’s manipulation, and that my recent influence over her to be more assertive was the reason why the demon had decided to accelerate their plans. If the ritual were to be completed, Alesia would be reduced to nothing more than a vessel for the witch. I couldn’t allow that.

To help Alesia, however, Alastor said they would need to possess my body to avoid Azazel’s attention. I agreed to the terms and, once possessed, drove us over to the house of one of Alesia’s friends, with whom she was spending the evening playing board games. Once we entered the house, however, it was not long before I realised I had been deceived. Alastor wasted no time; they left my body and possessed Alesia instead. Then, sparing me, they reduced everyone else in the house to dust.

“You… You lied to me,” I said as they approached me. Swirling shadows rose from Alesia’s body, engulfing the entire room in darkness.

“Not quite. I am an angel, just one of the fallen.” Alastor smiled. “Alesia was the name of the witch with whom I fell in love with six centuries ago. She was no different from your sister until this town drove her to her limits. It’s time they all paid for their crimes once again.”

I struggled to fight back, but Alastor shoved me up against the wall with their powers and prevented me from moving. I felt their cold grasp wrap around my entire body—their icy claws sinking into my skin to paralyse me where I stood.

“You do have my gratitude, though. For that, I will spare you.”

Before I could say another word, I found myself waking up the following day in another corner of the country. My once quiet town that anyone had barely heard of was suddenly the centre of attraction on the news. It was a massacre; as far as I knew, I was the sole survivor. Alastor was in the wind, and there were no sightings of Alesia either.