Clara's breath hitched in her throat. The figure in the shadows was undeniably demonic. Its eyes glowed with malevolent red light, and its form seemed to flicker and shift, as if it couldn't quite hold itself together in this realm. It was hunched and gaunt, its skin stretched tight over its bones, and its claws scraped against the stone floor as it took a step forward.
"Who are you?" Clara managed to ask, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. She gripped her flashlight tighter, the beam shaking slightly as she tried to focus on the creature.
The demon hissed, a sound like air escaping a punctured tire. Its lips peeled back, revealing rows of jagged, needle-sharp teeth. "This is my house," it rasped, its voice a guttural growl that seemed to vibrate in Clara's chest. "You are not welcome here."
Clara knew she was outmatched. She was just a ghost hunter, armed with a flashlight and a vial of consecrated salt. This demon looked like it could tear her apart with its bare hands. But she couldn't back down. She had to protect the amulet, whatever it was, from this creature.
"We're just passing through," Clara said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "We're not looking for trouble."
"Trouble has found you," the demon hissed, taking another step forward. "You seek the relic. It belongs to him now."
"Him?" Clara asked, stalling for time. "You mean Azazel?"
The demon snarled. "Silence! You will not speak his name in this place."
Clara knew she had to do something, and do it fast. She couldn't fight this demon head-on; she would lose. But maybe, just maybe, she could distract it long enough to escape.
She remembered the vial of consecrated salt in her pocket. It had worked against Azazel, even if only for a moment. Maybe it would work against this lesser demon, too.
Without warning, Clara reached into her pocket, grabbed the vial of salt, and hurled it at the demon. The vial shattered against the demon's chest, showering it with the holy substance.
The demon shrieked, a high-pitched, ear-splitting sound that seemed to shatter the stained-glass windows of the church. It recoiled from the salt, its skin smoking and blistering.
"You dare!" the demon roared, its eyes burning with fury.
Clara didn't wait to see what the demon would do next. She turned and ran, sprinting back the way she had come, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Damien!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the church. "Damien, help!"
She burst out of the main hall and into the side room where Damien had gone. He was standing in front of a stone wall, examining a series of ancient carvings.
"Damien, there's a demon!" Clara gasped, out of breath. "It's guarding something, I think the amulet!"
"Damien, there's a demon!" Clara gasped, out of breath. "It's guarding something, I think the amulet!"
Damien's eyes widened. "Where is it?" he asked, drawing his curved blade.
Damien grabbed Clara's hand and pulled her behind him. "Stay behind me," he said. "I'll handle this."
They ran back into the main hall, Damien's blade glinting in the dim light. The demon was waiting for them, its eyes burning with hatred.
"You cannot escape me," the demon hissed. "This church is mine. You will die here."
Damien lunged forward, his blade flashing. The demon roared and met his attack, its claws slashing and tearing. The two figures clashed in the center of the church, a whirlwind of steel and shadows.
Clara watched in horror as Damien and the demon fought, their battle a brutal dance of death. She knew she had to do something to help, but she didn't know what. She was just a ghost hunter, not a warrior.
Then, she remembered something Professor Armitage had said. He had told her that faith was a powerful weapon against the darkness.
Clara closed her eyes and focused her mind. She thought about all the good she had seen in the world, all the kindness and compassion. She thought about the spirits she had helped, the families she had brought peace to. She thought about Damien, his bravery and his unwavering commitment to fighting evil.
And then, she prayed. She prayed for strength, for courage, for the power to help Damien defeat the demon.
As she prayed, she felt a surge of energy flow through her body, a warmth that spread from her heart to her fingertips. She opened her eyes, and she saw that Damien was struggling. The demon had him pinned against a wall, its claws raised to strike the killing blow.
Without thinking, Clara ran forward and placed her hand on Damien's back. She focused all her energy, all her faith, into her hand, and she felt the power surge through her and into Damien.
Damien gasped, his eyes widening. He felt the surge of energy coursing through him, giving him renewed strength and focus. He pushed the demon away and lunged forward, his blade finding its mark.
Damien gasped, his eyes widening. He felt the surge of energy coursing through him, giving him renewed strength and focus. He pushed the demon away and lunged forward, his blade finding its mark.
The demon shrieked, a final, desperate cry of pain. Its body convulsed, and then it dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, vanishing into nothingness.
"Thank you," he said. "I don't know what you did, but it saved my life."
Clara smiled. "I think I just found my faith," she said.