The vial of holy water flew from the exorcist's hand and shattered against the wall.
Golden liquid splattered across the floor.
A deafening, multi-layered screech tore through the air as several shadowy figures materialised at once.
The temperature plunged so sharply that the windows cracked from the sudden cold.
The exorcist Troy staggered backward, clutching his wrist where Eimi had slapped him.
"Eimi!" Richard Whitemore shouted in horror, trying to break free from the officers holding him.
But the girl was no longer herself.
Her small body trembled violently as her head tilted at an unnatural angle.
When she spoke, it was with three overlapping voices.
They were cold, hateful and filled with undeniable pain.
"You will not take him… He belongs to us…"
The shadows moved and rushed to merge with the little girl.
Mikhail didn't waste a second. He rushed forward.
He stepped in front of Eimi, shielding the girl from the writhing shadows.
