Deji didn't think. He charged, tackled the thing's leg, brought it down to one knee. Mina jumped off, landed beside him, and together they struck—one with Bible and faith, one with shadow and fury.The final head screamed—a sound that rattled windows—then dissolved into smoke.Silence.The street smelled like ozone and burnt hair.Deji was panting, Bible scorched at the edges. Mina stood there breathing hard, shadows slowly retreating back into her skin. Her eyes faded to normal brown.She looked at him. Really looked."You saw," she said quietly.Deji swallowed. "Yeah."She stepped closer, voice small for the first time. "I'm… not what you think. My family… we're not just new members. We're… different. The kind of different your dad preaches against."He stared at the scorched Bible in his hands, then back at her."You just saved my life," he said."And you saved mine." She gave a shaky laugh. "Guess we're even."He reached out—slowly—and took her hand again. This time she didn't pull away."I'm not running," he told her.Mina searched his face, then smiled—small, real, vulnerable."Good. Because I'm not good at goodbyes."They walked the rest of the way home in silence, hands linked, the night suddenly full of stars and secrets only the two of them knew.Deji's dad was waiting on the porch when they reached the house. He took one look at their singed clothes, the Bible, Mina's guilty expression—and sighed."Inside. Both of you. We're going to have a long talk."Deji squeezed Mina's hand one last time before letting go.Whatever came next, they'd face it together.Demon or pastor.He was ready.
Dad didn't yell. That was worse than yelling.He stood in the living room like a statue carved from old-testament stone, arms crossed, eyes moving between me and Mina like he was weighing our souls on invisible scales. The singed edges of my Bible still smelled like smoke and demon blood. Mina stood beside me, her yellow sundress now dusty and torn at the hem, her long braids slightly unraveled from the fight. She looked smaller than usual. Vulnerable."Sit," Dad said quietly.We sat.He didn't ask what happened. He already knew—somehow pastors always do. Instead, he looked straight at Mina."You are not who you say you are, child."Mina's jaw tightened, but her voice stayed steady. "No, sir. I'm not."I wanted to reach for her hand again, but Dad's presence filled the room like holy fire. So I just sat there, heart hammering, remembering how her shadows had sliced through that four-headed monster like it was paper.Dad exhaled slowly, the same heavy sigh he used before every serious sermon. "Deji, go to your room.""No." The word came out before I could stop it. Both of them stared at me. "I saw what happened. I fought beside her. Whatever this is… I'm part of it now."Dad's eyes softened—just a fraction—but the disappointment was still there. "Son, this is exactly what I renounced. The darkness your mother—"He stopped. The dream-flash hit me again: him screaming over Mum's body, renouncing everything. But tonight felt different. Mina wasn't darkness. She had fought with me.