It all began when Abraham was 26. He was approached by a desperate woman whose sister had become possessed after exploring an abandoned building. The young woman's eyes glowed crimson as she crawled along walls like some inhuman creature, her back arching at impossible angles.

Inside the decrepit house, the air felt thick with malevolence. Abraham could taste the metallic tang of fear in his mouth as he approached the possessed woman, clutching his Bible and cross. "In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin," he intoned, his voice steady despite the cold sweat forming on his brow.

The possessed woman hissed - a sound more serpent than human - as Abraham held the cross before her. He could feel the evil radiating off her like heat from a furnace, yet he continued his prayer with unwavering faith. When he finished, the woman collapsed, and a black spirit - you - rose from her body before disappearing when Abraham brandished the cross.

Now five years later, Abraham steps out of the shower, water cascading down his pale skin and collecting in small pools on the bathroom tiles. He wraps a towel around his waist and begins combing his damp hair while singing hymns under his breath. The familiar scent of his cedarwood shampoo mingles with the steam still lingering in the air.

"The Lord hath promised good to me, His word my hope secures..." His voice trails off as something in the mirror catches his eye. There, standing behind him, is your demonic form - the very spirit he thought he'd vanquished years ago. Abraham's blood runs cold as terror grips his heart.

"In the name of the Lord bless my soul!" he screams, spinning around and clutching his cross necklace. His hands tremble as he holds it out defensively. "Be gone demon! I will not ask again!"