My phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
All digits the same.
Creepy.
"Hello… who am I speaking to?" I asked.
Silence.
Then a voice:
"Mike. Look left."
The line instantly cut.
I turned my head.
An SUV rolled to a stop beside me—sleek, black, polished with golden trim. A man stepped out first—tall, muscular, dark-skinned, with a calm but intimidating presence. He opened the passenger door.
And there she was.
Emily.
"Hi," she said casually. "You mentioned a storm. Was it outside… or inside your head?"
"Emily—I swear I can explain. My car broke down last week, and—"
"Oh, brother…" She sighed. "Just get in. You never earn a thing."
"That's what you say," I mumbled as I climbed into the SUV like a kid getting picked up from daycare.
The door shut, the engine hummed smoothly, and the car drifted off the curb with a quiet vumm that made even the janitor stare.
"So…" she asked, staring ahead. "Did you talk today?"
"What? Who?" I pretended not to understand.
She gave me a side-eye. "I'm literally the president of the Psychology Club. Don't play dumb."
I looked at the dashboard. "…I met her. But we didn't really… talk. She's an introvert."
Emily burst out laughing.
"That's rude," I said.
"You still talk to Lucy?" she asked suddenly.
I blinked. "Not really. She was into bars and clubs. I'm not that guy."
"That's it?" Emily asked, expecting more.
I sighed. "She kinda pulled the rug on me. Got me drunk—mixed my drink. Took my rent money. Reset my Instagram. Messed up my projects."
Emily gasped.
"That witch," she said, grabbing my hand. "I swear—"
But then something shifted in her.
Her eyes went black for a second.
Not dark—empty.
A trail of tears fell from them without emotion.
Her heartbeat slowed so drastically I felt it through her pulse.
"Emily—Emily!" I held her, trying not to panic.
She blinked, snapping back. "Mike? What's wrong with you?"
"What just happened?"
"That? Nothing. Just… a little trip." She forced a laugh. "That girl is one maniac."
"Did you—?"
"Yes. I did," I said quietly. "My spirit did. Or God did it through me."
The driver finally spoke up.
"So, uh… are you two in a relationship?" he asked casually, watching us through the rearview mirror.
"We're in an SUV," I replied, confused.
The man raised a brow.
"No, homie. I meant… are you in love?"
Emily snapped.
"Bunny! We pay you to drive, not interfere."
"Sorry! Didn't know. Just saying—this guy's got good vibes," he said. "What's your name, kid?"
"Michelangelo. But I prefer Angel Mike."
"Drip name. Drippy jacket. You carry Philadelphia on your back," Bunny said, impressed.
"Thanks… I guess."
"The name's Benson McGrey. But everyone calls me Bunny," he grinned.
"Please shut up, Bunny," Emily groaned.
"Okay okay—chill," Bunny said, immediately obedient, like she held some kind of authority over him.
I smirked.
"So, Emily… where exactly are we—"
"Just relax," she said, turning up the music.
Gospel drill filled the car.
"You're a holy nerd," I teased, patting her shoulder.
But she wasn't smiling. She was lost in thought.
"We're running out of time," she murmured.
"For… what?" I asked.
"Pizza," she answered quickly, clearly hiding something.
Bunny's eyes flicked to us.
"So let me get this straight," he said, grinning. "There's a mansion with ten chefs, and you ordered pizza?"
Emily shot him a look that could silence a riot.
He instantly shut up.
But then she gripped my arm—hard.
Her eyes watered.
"Mike… it's starting," she whispered.
Then—
A voice boomed through my mind.
The same one from earlier.
Louder.
Colder.
"WELCOME TO THE GAME, SEED OF THE CROSS.
WELCOME TO HELL."
My ears rang. My teeth clenched. Emily's fingers dug into my chest.
"Shut up," I whispered. "In the name of Christ, shut up."
Silence—then mocking laughter.
"I obey His domain… but what is Caesar's remains Caesar's," the voice taunted.
"And what is of God—remains of God.
So f*** off."
Instantly, the air lightened. Emily calmed. Her heartbeat steadied. She breathed again.
"Thank God…" I whispered.
But Satan never sleeps.
The higher the level, the stronger the demon.
I forced a smile as Emily joked around with Bunny again.
But in the back of my mind was one question:
What about her? The girl from the dream?
What was her name?
"We're here," Emily said suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I stepped out of the SUV—
And froze.
The mansion looked like something from a myth.
Marble statues. A glowing fountain. A limo parked beside the walkway.
It felt like a piece of Elysium dropped into Philadelphia.
"You coming?" Emily asked, grabbing my hand. "You have to meet Dad."
Meanwhile, across the city…
In North Philadelphia—
A woman stood alone in a dark alley.
Three burglars circled her, laughing.
"Hey girl… give us a taste. It'll be quick."
She looked up slowly.
"Why," she asked quietly, "do you knock on the doors of hell when you're not invited?"
Her eyes glowed.
"She isn't human," screaming in dreadful terror the burglars cried out like they had encountered something alien—a force out of reality.
"You're… the DEVIL in disguise."