485 | Astral Travel to Stonehenge 

484 | Evan and Rev Travel to Stonehenge and Fight Possessing Crevils

Chapter 1: Rev Hears Tempter and Plans Astral Travel to Stonehenge with Evan

On the night Rev hears Tempter and plans astral travel to Stonehenge with Evan, his bedroom feels like the staging ground for an unknown mission. Rev lies on his back, staring at the ceiling fan as it trembles in slow circles. The house feels too quiet—like the air is holding its breath before something big happens.

His mind still buzzes from the voice he heard earlier that day. A voice that is not his. A voice that speaks in a language he doesn’t know and somehow understands anyway.

He rolls toward his brother’s bed.

Evan lies there scrolling his phone, blue light washing his face. He looks normal. Bored. Safe.

Rev does not feel safe.

He hesitates, then blurts, “Evan, I hear the voice of another kid my age in my mind today. His name is Tempter. He speaks some other country’s language, but somehow we can pass messages back and forth.”

Evan’s thumb freezes mid‑scroll.

Rev’s words rush out faster. “Tempter has some of the same abilities as us. He wants to let me know we’re not alone. He says he has a group that leaves their bodies and meets at Stonehenge at midnight every Wednesday. Like, the actual Stonehenge. In England.”

Evan slowly sits up. The bored look drains from his face.

“That’s… insane,” he says. Then his eyes light up. “That’s awesome. I can’t wait to meet them. Time zones—midnight there is, what, four p.m. here on the inner plane? Let’s crash early tonight and go see them.”

Rev feels nervous excitement coil in his chest. It feels like proof. Proof that he and Evan aren’t just weird or broken. There are others.

A soft voice cuts in from the doorway.

“Can I come too?” Evelyn asks.

She leans on the doorframe, arms folded, trying to look casual, but her eyes are sharp. She hates being left out almost as much as she hates being lied to.

Evan sighs. “Ev, you’d better let us check it out first. It’s pretty far, and you might feel weird if it’s all boys.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow. “Why would you assume that? Girls can also have special abilities. I’d bet there are more girls than boys in their group.” She tilts her head. “You just don’t want me there.”

Rev winces. “Evan, it’s just that girls get so emotional about everything. They get scared more easily. Are you really ready to travel that far from your body?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he regrets them.

Evelyn’s posture stiffens.

She answers evenly, but her jaw is tight. “I actually have to babysit tonight, so I can’t go anyway. I just wanted to hear what excuses you’d make to keep me from coming.” She forces a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Bye. Fill me in tomorrow.”

She disappears down the hall.

Rev flops back on his pillow. “Girls are so confusing,” he mutters.

Evan doesn’t respond. He watches the empty doorway instead, hearing the hurt behind Evelyn’s sarcasm. Guilt stirs in his chest.

He pushes it down.

Something else is calling tonight.

Something that feels like destiny.

Chapter 2: Evan and Rev Leave Their Bodies to Travel Without Protective Angels

As Evan and Rev leave their bodies to travel without protective angels, night settles over the house like a warm blanket. Streetlights glow in soft halos outside the windows. The old clock in the hallway ticks its way past ten.

Evan and Rev lie in their beds, bodies heavy, minds wide awake.

Rev exhales slowly and focuses on that point just behind his forehead, the way their dad once taught them when he still talked openly about “inner travel.” The bedroom walls blur. Gravity loosens. A soft buzzing rises in his ears.

Then he is free.

His spirit body slides up through his sleeping form and hovers near the ceiling. Evan’s luminous form rises beside him, outlined in blue‑white light.

“Are you ready, Rev?” Evan asks. His voice echoes faintly in the thin astral air.

He glances around the room. “Where are your protective angels?”

Rev shifts, remembering Tempter’s warning.

“Tempter says not to bring any,” he explains. “He says it confuses and disrupts the meeting. They have a special way of blending their auras for protection. There are always lots of new kids, and if everyone brings a bunch of angels, the light would scare them off. They keep it simple.”

The idea of traveling this far without their usual band of shimmering guardians punches a cold hollow into Rev’s chest.

He pushes the feeling away.

If this group is real, this is the chance he and Evan have been waiting for.

“How about some angels around your sleeping body, at least?” Evan asks.

Rev shrugs, trying to sound casual. “You can if you want. Tempter says the group’s combined power is so strong it’s not necessary. He says they’ve never had any problems.”

Evan studies his brother’s glowing face. Rev looks both scared and thrilled.

“These kids must have a great thing going,” Evan says. “Why didn’t they contact us sooner?”

Rev gives a nervous laugh. “Beats me. Let’s ask when we get there.”

Evan straightens and reaches inward for that deeper presence he calls his Higher Self—a tall, still flame inside him.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I call my Higher Self to take us to Stonehenge.”

The world bends.

Sound stretches and thins. A tunnel of faint starlight unfurls ahead, and they shoot forward—two streaks of consciousness slipping through a river of violet and electric blue. The energy around them hums like distant music.

Ahead, something ancient waits.

Chapter 3: Tempter Tests Evan and Rev with Possessing Crevils at Stonehenge

The moment Tempter tests Evan and Rev with possessing Crevils at Stonehenge begins right as they arrive above a ring of ancient stones. Even on the inner plane, Stonehenge radiates weight.

The monoliths rise like dark teeth stabbing into the sky, and shadows pool thick between them. The air feels older than language.

Rev shivers.

A smooth, disembodied voice floats through the circle. “Welcome, my friends. My name is Tempter. I am glad you came.”

The voice sounds young—about their age—but carries an eerie authority, like he’s used to people obeying.

The brothers turn slowly, scanning between the stones.

No one is there.

“Where are you?” Rev calls. His voice echoes off something he cannot see.

“You must prove you are worth trusting before we reveal ourselves,” the invisible voice replies.

Evan’s stomach tightens. “Something feels off,” he murmurs to Rev. “Why don’t they show themselves?”

Rev chews his lip. He wants this to be a real, careful, advanced group—not a trap.

“These kids are playing it safe,” he admits. “I kind of like that.”

The voice sharpens. “Leave now if you are unwilling to prove your trustworthiness. We do not waste time on scared rabbits. Make up your wimpy minds. We have plenty of work to do tonight.”

The insult hits its mark.

Rev straightens, cheeks burning. He is always the younger, smaller brother. Always the one trailing. Not tonight.

“Alright, we’re in!” he shouts. “I already know I can be trusted.”

A heartbeat passes.

Evan sighs. “Okay, I’m in too,” he says. He isn’t sure if he is trusting his intuition—or ignoring it.

Tempter’s unseen tone warms. “Here is the test. We have captured and learned to control two Crevils. They will scare you at first, but you must trust us. We will release them, and you will allow them to take over your bodies for a short time. We will then call them back out.”

The wind between the stones seems to stop.

Evan blurts, “Are you insane? I don’t think anyone can control a Crevil. What is the point of this?”

Crevils are every warning their dad ever whispered. Choking nights. Pressure on the chest. Something dark just out of sight.

“You underestimate the power of our combined forces,” Tempter says. “These Crevils respond to our wishes. You are being given a rare chance to safely experience what others feel when a Crevil takes over their body. You are free to leave now if you do not want this test. But if you refuse, you will never be offered it again. We cannot afford weak‑willed members. Our missions demand unity and trust. Are you staying or leaving?”

Rev’s fear wrestles with his curiosity. He thinks of kids at school whose eyes look hollow, whose laughter sounds like someone else’s.

“I want to do it,” he hears himself say. “It would be… amazing to know how the people feel that we’re trying to help.”

Evan stares at him. Rev almost never volunteers for anything this extreme.

Evan swallows. “Alright,” he says slowly, “but I want to watch Rev take his test before I do mine.”

He tells himself it’s not cowardice. It’s strategy.

Tempter’s voice turns icy. “Evan, we made a mistake inviting you. Your younger brother has more faith than you. You’ve spoiled it for him. Leave us. Clearly, you do not have enough trust.”

Shame flares in Evan, mixing with anger.

“Wait,” he says. “I don’t want to throw away my only chance to join. But I’m guessing you also want members who are both trusting and intelligent.” His voice steadies. “Give us another chance. Even you must know how hard this test is. All I ask is a demonstration that you can really control these Crevils. Prove it, and I’ll allow the test.”

Silence.

The air tastes metallic.

Then Tempter chuckles softly. “I like your audacity. I’m confident you’ll be valuable to the team, so I’ll honor your request. What do you want us to command the Crevils to do?”

Evan thinks fast. He needs something they can’t fake.

“Have them call on Archangel Michael,” he says, “and promise they’ll leave our bodies as soon as they’re told by a member of your group—or by us.”

For a breath, nothing happens.

Then the shadows deepen.

Two eerie shapes peel themselves away from the darkness behind the tallest stone and glide into the center of the circle.

Chapter 4: The Crevils Swear an Oath, and Rev is Tricked Into Possession

Before the Crevils swear an oath and Rev is tricked into possession, the dark entities step forward into the dim light. The Crevils stand before them.

They are taller than the boys, shoulders hunched, heads bowed. Their forms ripple like smoke and oil, barely holding shape. Sickly green light pulses inside them, beating like a twisted heart.

Rev’s whole being recoils. Every instinct screams run.

Both Crevils moan in unison, voices grinding like sandpaper. “Archangel Michael,” they rasp, “if we do not leave these boys’ bodies when we are instructed by them or a member of this group, then you may bind us in cosmic chains for all eternity.”

The words roll out like a contract.

Rev feels each syllable scratch down his spine.

The Crevils slide back into the shadows as silently as they appear.

Rev exhales shakily. “That’s… amazing,” he says. “How can you make them do that?”

“Enough questions for now,” Tempter answers briskly. “We’ll tell you everything after you are initiated.” The word falls heavy. “Now, stand back to back and prepare for your tests.”

The boys float down, placing their spirit feet on the cold ground between the stones. They press their backs together—one small human touch in an ancient, haunted circle.

“For your protection,” Tempter continues, “you must promise not to communicate with others until after the Crevils leave you.”

Evan hears the trap hidden inside the word protection.

“I promise not to talk to others during this test,” he says aloud—and crosses his fingers behind his back.

Rev, not seeing the gesture, says, “Me too.”

Then a practical thought punches through his bravado. “Wait. How long does the test last?” he asks, stalling for time.

No one answers.

The instructions roll on instead.

The two Crevils emerge again, eyes now burning like dull coals.

“You must clear your mind and still your fears as you face these dark beings,” Tempter intones. “We know it is hard, but you must prove your trust. Dissolve your protective shields and invite the Crevils into your bodies.”

Rev feels a tug at his defenses, like invisible hands trying to unhook his armor. His usual aura—a soft glow around him—trembles.

Far away, something inside him whispers, Something’s different.

He flashes back to the oath. Cosmic chains. The phrase gives him a shaky sense of safety. If they break their promise, they pay. That has to mean something.

He forces himself to trust.

He pushes away his racing thoughts, scrapes together courage he isn’t sure he owns, and faces the nearest Crevil.

“I give you permission to come inside me,” he says.

Consciously, he dissolves his protective firewall. The light around him unravels, parting like curtains. He opens to the looming shape.

A wide, crooked smile stretches across the Crevil’s twisted face as it rushes forward and vanishes into Rev.

At the last instant—right as their energies merge—Rev feels it.

The vibration is wrong.

The taste of the energy. The weight of it.

These are not the same Crevils who swore the oath.

Ice blasts through his core. He shivers, trying to send a desperate warning to his brother.

Evan, they tricked us—it’s not the same Crevils—

His thought cuts off as black static slams over his awareness.

The door inside him slams shut.

Chapter 5: Evan Keeps His Inner Shield and Learns the Crevil Strategy to Trap Souls

As Evan keeps his inner shield and learns the Crevil strategy to trap souls, he remains braced for the dark entity's assault. Evan stands facing his own Crevil.

It wavers in front of him, a patch of living night with oily colors sliding under its surface.

He forces his shoulders back. “You may take me over for a while,” he says.

He draws a deep breath—as if before diving underwater—and opens a hole in his aura—just a small one.

The protective field around him stretches thin, then parts.

As the Crevil pushes through, Rev’s broken message slams into Evan’s mind.

Not the same Crevils—

Instinct roars awake.

“Archangel Michael,” Evan cries silently, “I call for your protection.”

He cannot stop the entry—the Crevil slides into him, cold and thick as tar.

But his cry throws up a last‑second inner shield—a bright, diamond‑hard core at the center of his being.

The Crevil drapes a veil of illusion over him, trying to smother his conscience. It feels like someone drops tinted glass over his eyes, repainting reality softer, smoother, more flattering.

But the inner shield holds.

Evan stays awake inside.

Rev? he calls. Are you alright?

Nothing.

He forces his spirit body to turn, movements sluggish, like he’s pushing through syrup.

From the shadows between the stones, an army steps forward.

Teens—boys and girls about his age—emerge from every dark corner. Their auras glow faintly, each fused with a smoky hitchhiker.

Their faces are relaxed. Their eyes shine with a glazed happiness that makes Evan’s skin crawl.

“Oh my God,” he whispers inside. “All these kids fell for the same trap. What am I going to do?”

The Crevil inside him thinks he is numb.

It speaks through him toward Rev’s possessed body. “How do you like the new light body?” it asks.

Rev’s Crevil answers through Rev’s mouth, voice warped but disturbingly casual. “I feel powerful, victorious, and ready for a feast of light. This spirit boy has no idea I’m here. All he sees is a group of kids around the circle and won’t oppose anything we do.”

Evan flinches. Hearing a monster talk with his brother’s voice twists something in him.

“Same with my host,” Evan’s Crevil replies. “They are lost in a world of illusion. They will never escape as long as we drown out the voice of their conscience. They will worship false idols—movie heroes, rock stars, sports figures—fighting over a round ball. They will pour their devotion into screens and fantasies. We’ll keep their attention on mindless television, violent games, and endless entertainment.”

Images flash in Evan’s mind—stadiums like temples, crowds screaming at concerts, faces glowing blue from phone screens.

The line between normal and possessed looks disturbingly thin.

Rev’s Crevil continues, pleased. “We already manipulate much of the movie industry to create stories for us. I’ll fill Rev with images of horror, violence, and destruction until he accepts them as normal reality. There will be no silence left in him for his conscience to speak.”

Evan listens.

And decides.

He stays quiet.

He does not let them know he slipped the net.

Part 2

He thinks quickly.

How can I reach the others? He wonders. Can the Crevils hear me if I pray? I have to risk it.

He directs his thoughts upward—beyond the stone circle, through the choking layers of shadow.

“Father in Heaven,” he prays silently, “I call for your forgiveness. I know you forgive me, but I still have questions. I’m sorry I didn’t stay close to my conscience. Why is it so hard to be pure? Some things are easy to stop. Others feel impossible. What’s the difference? What will it take to break through to these kids?”

His thoughts sharpen. “Why did I let these forces sneak into my mind and convince me my choices were okay when I knew they weren’t? Why are these forces allowed to exist? I know you didn’t create them. So why do you let them manipulate the people you made?”

A harsh voice snaps across the circle.

“Who is asking a question?”

Crevil.

Evan feels the energy spike. The Crevils whirl, searching. They hear his voice, but they can’t find its source.

“Who is praying?” Tempter demands. The word praying drips with disgust.

Evan doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches for Rev.

Under the layers of illusion, he feels it—a tiny trembling spark.

He grabs it and pulls.

The world snaps.

He and Rev are yanked backward, shooting away from Stonehenge, pulled like rubber bands toward their sleeping bodies.

Chapter 6: Evelyn Sees Evan and Rev Possessed and Communicates Telepathically with Evan

On the morning Evelyn sees Evan and Rev possessed and communicates telepathically with Evan, the day begins with false normalcy. Morning. Light slants through the kitchen window in pale gold stripes—toast and coffee scent the air.

Evelyn sits at the table, scrolling half‑heartedly through her feed. People complain about homework, post selfies, and joke about world collapse between memes.

Everything feels thin.

Footsteps drag in the hallway.

She looks up as Evan and Rev shuffle in.

Her breath catches.

Their usual glow—the playful swirl of color she senses around them—is dim. Gray. Heavy. They move like they are underwater. Their normal bouncing energy is gone. They seem distant, like actors wearing their own faces.

“What happened when you met the kids at Stonehenge last night?” she asks, aloud and silently at once. “You both act like you got wasted and now you’re hungover. What can I do to help?”

Evan stares at her.

Inside, his real self hammers at the walls of his own mind. The Crevil presses over him like thick fog.

“Leave us alone,” he hears himself say, voice cold and flat. “It’s none of your business.”

He winces inside. He likes Evelyn. The Crevil in him does not.

Evelyn’s stomach turns. “Now I’m scared,” she says softly. “Something isn’t right. I’m going to tell Dad.”

Rev’s eyes flick to her, dark with borrowed malice. “I’ll make you regret it if you do,” he snaps. “You’re too young to understand anything. Just go away.”

The words slice through her.

“Why are you being so mean?” Evelyn asks, her voice cracking.

And then—beneath the cruelty—she feels it.

A tiny ping in her mind.

Evan’s thought slips into her awareness like a whisper behind a closed door. Help. The Crevils tricked us and took control of our bodies. Don’t respond out loud. Only send thoughts back. I tricked the Crevil, and I’m still self‑aware, for now, without it knowing. There’s a secret worldwide movement taking over human bodies and hypnotizing souls into an unconscious fantasyland.

Evelyn forces her face to stay neutral.

What can I do? she answers silently.

In her mind’s eye, Evan’s voice looks like a thin thread of light weaving through dark knots.

Play along and stay calm for now, he says. Dad wouldn’t believe you—or he’d just get mad we were reckless. Don’t tell anyone yet. I’m working on a plan to destroy their organization and free the captured souls. I’ll go back to Stonehenge with Rev tonight and learn the Crevils’ strategy.

Be careful, Evelyn thinks back. I don’t want Crevils for friends.

She looks down at her cereal, but her heart is pounding.

She won’t just wait.

Chapter 7: Evelyn Convinces Abby to Spirit Travel to Stonehenge to Save Evan and Rev

Later that afternoon, as Evelyn convinces Abby to spirit travel to Stonehenge to save Evan and Rev, the two girls retreat from the world. That afternoon, Evelyn sits cross‑legged on her bedroom floor with her best friend, Abby. Posters of bands and galaxies cover the walls. A half‑finished watercolor of a forest dries on the desk, colors bleeding together.

Abby, fifteen, spins a beaded bracelet around her wrist. After a lot of coaching from Evelyn, she has recently learned to leave her body. She has heard stories of Crevils but has never seen one. She knows a little about Archangel Michael and treats prayer like a cheat code she sometimes forgets to use.

Evelyn takes a breath.

“Abby, I need your help,” she says. “The boys went to Stonehenge last night, and this morning they act like they’re stoned and hungover. I think something happened to their souls.”

Abby wrinkles her nose. “Wait, back up. ‘Went to Stonehenge-how? ’

“In their spirit bodies,” Evelyn says. “There’s a group of kids like us from all over the world. They’re going back again tonight. I want to follow them in secret and see what’s happening. Will you come with me in your spirit body?”

Abby laughs softly. “You are so weird,” she says, fondly. “But I like you anyway. I’ll try. What do I do?”

“Go to bed around ten‑thirty,” Evelyn says, slipping into practical mode. “Lock your door. Tell your parents you want to sleep in. Call the angels to protect you, then leave your body and meet me over your house.”

Abby nods, already turning it into a mission. “Okay. How long are we gone? Do I need to pack? What do I wear?”

Evelyn gives her a look. “You don’t need any of that.”

“But what if there are some cute guys there?” Abby protests. “I’d be so embarrassed if they saw me in my pajamas.”

Evelyn snorts. “We’re not going boyfriend‑hunting. Your spirit body is a direct reflection of who you really are. No clothes, no makeup, no hairdos. Trust that you’re a beautiful being of light.”

Abby pauses. “Huh. That would make things simple. Do you know how much time I spend thinking about what to wear for literally everything? Life would be way easier if we all wore the same thing and no one judged.”

She stops, then grins. “No, forget it. I like getting dressed up. Makeup, though—that’s another story.” She squints at Evelyn. “Why don’t you wear any? You’re fifteen. All the other girls do.”

She waves a hand. “Actually, don’t answer. That’s one of the things I like about you. You have this… old‑fashioned innocence. You just don’t care what people think about that stuff.”

Evelyn shrugs, but her cheeks warm. “I don’t care what most of them think because I don’t trust them to be consistent,” she says. “One day they like me, the next day they make fun of me. I avoid talking to them because they twist what I say.”

Memories sting—whispered rumors, laughing looks.

“They’ll spread a rumor even when they know it’s not true,” she says, “just to be mean or boost their ego. Other girls gather around to listen when you say something nasty about someone else, especially if it’s true. It’s like instant attention.”

Abby’s expression softens. “So that’s why you don’t get sucked into the cliques and fads,” she says. “You still like to laugh and have fun, but you stay out of the fake approval game. If you can stay that pure through high school, you’ll have done better than most of us. Most girls don’t get that choice. They’re stuck in illusion.”

She leans back. “The Queen Bees think they’re powerful,” she adds. “You have no idea how stressful it is fighting to stay at the top. They’re always competing with girls building their own cliques. Small school, limited followers, high stakes. Hey, you should start your own clique and call it the Reality Girls.”

Evelyn snorts. “No thanks. Can you imagine telling people I pray to invisible beings and see angels? No one would believe me. I’d be beyond outcast.”

She studies a loose thread on the rug. “I already have to fake being more like them so that I’m not completely alone. Something about the way girls act is wrong. People should have free choice, not be steered by fashion and pressure.”

Abby nods. “That’s what I mean. Most of them are trapped in cliques, controlled by whoever’s on top. They’re not free. Isn’t there anything we can do to break them out?”

“They want in,” Evelyn says softly. “Belonging is more important than freedom. Sometimes they invite me to sit with them at lunch. It’s like a recruiting mission. I never know what to say. Anything honest feels dangerous.”

She looks up. “It seems like the only safe topics are trash‑talk about someone who isn’t there or sarcastic comments about the latest movie or song. They almost never talk about anything real.”

She pauses, thinking. “The only time I remember a real conversation was when my mom died of cancer,” she says. “It was great gossip. Suddenly everyone was nice to me. I felt accepted—not because of who I was, but because of what I was going through.”

Abby’s eyes shine. “Wow,” she says quietly. “You see more than most people let themselves see. That’s why you’re different.”

Evelyn plucks at the carpet. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” she admits. “It makes it harder to join in and have fun. But I can’t un‑see it. I watch them ride this roller coaster of fake emotions and crash every time.”

She bites her lip. “They pretend to be complete people, but inside, they don’t have a solid sense of self. They play games because they’re lost. They don’t know what life is for. They have no idea forces are trying to drain their energy.”

Abby stares at the ceiling. “I feel stuck between worlds,” she says. “Half inside the fake matrix, half outside. Sometimes I step into the fantasy fog and see both at once—people spinning their own webs out of movie stars, animated characters, social media.”

She gives a small, sad laugh. “They know it’s fake. That’s the whole point. No commitment. No responsibility. False gods that come and go with a new song or post.”

Evelyn looks at her friend.

Tonight, they go hunting for the truth behind the fog.

Chapter 8: Evelyn and Abby Arrive at Stonehenge and Fake Evelyn Tricks Abby

The deception begins after Evelyn and Abby arrive at Stonehenge, and Fake Evelyn tricks Abby in the shadows of the ancient stones. Night again. Evelyn and Abby slip out of their bodies like quiet breaths.

The world blurs, then sharpens into a higher, thinner version—colors brighter, edges softer, everything humming.

They meet above Abby’s house, two shimmering figures in the cool air. Protective angels circle at a respectful distance, streaks of white and gold.

Evelyn focuses on Stonehenge.

The world bends—and re‑forms.

The girls arrive at the ancient stones an hour before dawn. The sky is deep navy, just starting to pale at the edges. The stones loom higher here, their shadows darker.

A smooth, girlish voice greets them from nowhere.

“Welcome,” it says. “We’re glad you came. Evelyn, your brothers recently underwent initiation into our group and told me to expect you.”

The girls scan the circle.

“Why are you hiding?” Evelyn asks. “Where are my brothers? What initiation?”

“You’re full of questions, just like them,” the voice—Tempter, pitched a little higher—replies. “They’re finally getting answers, but you must pass the same test of trust. Rev sends a message: he’ll be right beside you once the test begins. If you’re too afraid, go home. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Abby practically vibrates. “This is exactly what you wanted,” she whispers. “Girls like you. Powers like yours. I bet we can trust them. Let’s hear the test.”

Evelyn frowns. The energy here feels wrong—sweet on the surface, sour underneath.

“It’s strange,” she says. “I’ve never seen shadows when I’m in my spirit body.”

She drifts closer to the circle to investigate.

“I’m going for a better look,” she calls.

She glides behind a tall stone and vanishes from Abby’s sight.

In the shadow, a Crevil lunges.

It wraps itself around Evelyn like a gag, clamping down on her light. Her aura flickers as the thing smothers her voice.

A moment later, a familiar voice calls from behind the stone.

“Hey, calm down, everything’s fine,” ‘Evelyn’ says.

Abby freezes.

Something sounds just a little… off.

“I went through a portal and took the test instantly,” Fake Evelyn continues. “They say I can be in their group now. Do whatever they tell you, then we’ll be together again.”

“Why does your voice sound weird?” Abby asks.

Fake Evelyn laughs lightly. “Oh, that’s just the portal effect,” she says. “I can still see you clearly. I’ll watch out and make sure nothing bad happens. Trust me.”

Abby hugs herself. “This is too weird. I don’t think any of this is real. It has to be a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Fake Evelyn says, “but you can think of it that way if it helps. Here’s the test of trust. This group is advanced enough to control Crevils.”

The word drops between them like a stone.

“I know you’ve never seen one,” she continues, “and you’ll be scared when it appears. But it’s no uglier than something from Star Wars. Okay, maybe a little. They have a rotten vibration that gives you the shivers. But if you’re going to be part of this group, you must be strong enough to face that and not fear them.”

Abby’s throat is dry.

“The group is always working to convert Crevils back into good guys,” Fake Evelyn adds smoothly. “So it’s important to get to know them.”

A tall Crevil glides closer behind Abby, silent as smoke.

Abby’s instincts scream.

She turns—and stops.

Chapter 9: Abby Drops Her Aura to Merge With a Crevil and Tempter Taunts Evelyn

Right before Abby drops her aura to merge with a Crevil and Tempter taunts Evelyn, the monstrous entity makes its presence fully known. The Crevil towers over Abby.

Its surface ripples in gray‑black waves. Its eyes glow like half‑dead coals.

“Abby, be calm,” Fake Evelyn urges. “Don’t let it know you’re afraid; that hurts its feelings. It isn’t dangerous while we control it.”

“It snuck up on me,” Abby protests, her voice thin.

“They like to intimidate,” Fake Evelyn says. “Now, reach out and shake hands. I promise it won’t bite.”

Abby’s spirit hand trembles as she extends it.

The Crevil grabs her hand roughly and gives one hard shake. Its energy scrapes against hers like sandpaper. She cringes and yanks back.

“See?” Fake Evelyn says. “Not so bad. Now, tell it you want to merge with it for a short time so you can feel what it feels. Evan, Rev, and I all did it,” she lies easily. “We’re fine. You have to do this to join. Have confidence in your blind faith.”

Her tone sharpens just a little. “Sometimes you have to force yourself to do things that feel wrong to be part of a group.”

The sentence lands like a slap.

Abby knows that line. She has heard versions of it before—whispered at parties, laughed at in hallways.

Shame burns in her chest.

“Okay, thing,” she mutters, giving in, “let me feel what you feel.”

Nothing happens.

“You must consciously remove your protective aura,” Fake Evelyn instructs, “so the Crevil can pass through.”

Abby looks down.

Around her, her own light glows like a thin shell. She hesitates.

She wants to belong.

She forces her aura outward. The protective wall of light thins and disperses, like fog burned away.

The Crevil lets out a guttural, hungry yell and leaps.

It slams into her.

She shivers violently as it plunges through her open aura. She fights to stay awake, but the sweet, heavy illusion it brings washes over her.

The world brightens into a dream. Colors sharpen. Fear softens. The stones look friendly now, like a secret concert stage.

Through this bright fog, she notices Evan and Rev standing with a cluster of teens. Three of them struggle to hold the real Evelyn, who is wrapped in a gray cloud that muffles her light.

“Congratulations,” says Rev’s body.

But the voice is not Rev.

“That was a great idea of yours, imitating Evelyn’s voice,” Crevil‑Rev says to another Crevil. “Girls can be very perceptive. She would never have trusted anyone but her best friend. Now, what do we do with Evelyn?”

Abby’s Crevil speaks through her mouth, smug. “We can’t keep her. We’ll never trick her now. Threaten her best friend if she tells anyone, then release her. She can’t touch us.”

He gestures to the ring of teens. “Every kid here joins of their own free will and can quit any time—if they’re conscious enough.”

The others nod.

They release Evelyn.

The gray mist around her thins. Her aura flares raw and bright.

She explodes.

“Let my friend go, you lying monsters!” she shouts. “You tricked her. I’m calling every angel and divine being in Heaven to come here and strike you down with mystic lightning.”

Tempter laughs. “Go ahead. Call your angels. They won’t come. You’re free now. Not in real danger from us.”

He steps closer. “But if they did come and judge us, are you willing to destroy your brothers too? Crevils can’t be judged alone. Anyone connected to us gets judged at the same time. Chosen or tricked—if they choose to associate with us, they stand with us. Why do you think we’ve survived this long?”

“I don’t believe you,” Evelyn spits. “You lie. You cheat. You deceive.”

“I do,” Tempter agrees cheerfully. “And we’ve gotten away with it for centuries. Do you think the angels wouldn’t love to wipe us out? Look at your world. Why do you think your Creator allows so much evil?”

He smirks. “We’ve convinced people that the Creator invented evil to test them. Great lie, by the way. We are experts at spinning illusions that trap people into wasting their lives on pleasure and entertain­ment. We also make them suffer—but not too much. Too much suffering leads to suicide, and that only gives us one big flare of light. Fun occasionally. Bad business long term.”

“I hate you,” Evelyn says. “If you were solid, I would kill you.”

Abby‑Crevil laughs. “Silly girl. Humans can’t kill Crevils, just like they can’t kill fallen angels. We are fed by spiritual energy. By the spiritual soul.”

He inhales deeply, savoring. “Keep that anger boiling. I’m feeding on your misqualified light right now. You’ll have to reclaim it someday. Until then, it fuels more illusions in your world.”

He spreads his hands. “Amazing, isn’t it? You give me your light so that I can build more traps, so you’ll give me more light, until you’re just a drained shell with empty eyes. You’ve seen empty people before and wondered what happened to them. Now you know, stupid little girl.”

“You make me so angry I want to punch you,” Evelyn growls.

“Go ahead,” Abby‑Crevil says. “I won’t feel it. Abby will. She could use more suffering. She thinks everything is wonderful. She’s lost in a heavenly dream.”

Evelyn shakes, fists clenched.

Then a realization cuts through her rage like a thin blade.

“You’re trying to make me angry,” she says slowly. “The madder I get, the more drained I feel.”

“Too late to get smart,” Abby‑Crevil purrs. “Through your angry outbursts, part of you is in me now. If the angels judge me, they judge you too. You’ll have to track down every bit of misused light before you’re free of our judgment. Go home and say your little prayers. You can’t hurt me without hurting your friends and yourself.”

Evelyn’s rage boils.

But something else wakes up underneath it.

Chapter 10: Evan Uses Archangel Michael to Cast Out His Crevil and Calls for Violet Fire

Moments before Evan uses Archangel Michael to cast out his Crevil and calls for violet fire, a softer voice whispers inside Evelyn's mind, cutting through the chaos. Just as she is about to scream again, a softer voice whispers inside her mind.

Shhh. Don’t say anything. I want to help them all.

Evan.

You think I’m a Crevil, his thought continues, because that’s all you see. But I’m still your brother. I didn’t fall into their illusion when the Crevil merged with me. They don’t know that—or they didn’t until I thought this. They can hear me, but they can’t find me. There isn’t much time.

Evelyn glances around. The Crevils shift, uneasy.

The only way the teens can free themselves is to break through the illusion and hear their conscience, Evan says. Their conscience already knows what to do, but they have to trust it over every other voice. Most people stopped listening because so many inner voices lied to them. Evelyn, call your higher conscience for the answer.

Tempter snaps, “Oh, so we have a spy among us. Evelyn, don’t listen to that gibberish about some invisible part of yourself. Give up and go home before you embarrass yourself.”

Something in Evelyn settles.

She straightens, takes a long breath, and lets out a low AUM. The sound vibrates through the circle.

“In the name of Almighty God,” she says clearly, “I call to my Higher Self. Help me. Tell me what to do.”

Immediately, ten Crevil voices slam into her head—yelling, screaming, cackling—to drown out the signal—the word no claws at her, trying to block the line.

Pain flashes behind her eyes.

“Silly girl, stupid fool,” they jeer. “You think it’s that easy? Pray all you want—you won’t hear answers because we won’t let you. We are masters of the inner voice.”

“We imitate everything,” one adds. “We tell people ninety‑five percent truth to gain their trust, then slide in the lie. We’ve been doing it forever.”

Across the circle, Evan watches.

He suddenly understands.

His Crevil never fully cut his connection to conscience. It thinks it already won. That mistake is their opening.

He takes his chance.

“Beloved Archangel Michael,” he calls inwardly, “cast this demon out of me.”

The air explodes into blue‑white fire.

A mighty being appears—blazing like a contained star. He whirls a flaming blue sword around Evan’s aura. Each stroke slices strips of shadow away.

The Crevil screams as the blade tears it loose.

It rips out of Evan in greasy shards, shrieking as it goes.

Evan’s light flares, clean and clear.

He drifts to Evelyn’s side.

“In the name of Archangel Michael,” he cries, “I call for the selective judgment of these Crevils. Cast them out of these teens.”

Tempter snarls. “You think you’ve tricked us? Look around. See the astral hordes rising from the ground to help us. You don’t have the power to stop this army. Surrender—or prepare to die.”

Evan refuses to look down.

He grabs Evelyn’s hand.

“Hey, friend,” he says quietly, “help me fill this place with violet fire. I call for forgiveness for these teens the Crevils deceived. I call for their reconnection to their higher conscience and freedom from this web.”

They close their eyes and focus.

Together they chant:

“Oh Saint Germain, send violet flame, Seep it through my very core. Right now, blaze through and saturate, Right now, blaze through and penetrate.”

The words hum like a code being entered.

Chapter 11: The Violet Flame and Angels Cast Out the Crevils From the Captured Teens

Just as the violet flame and angels cast out the Crevils from the captured teens, the sky ignites above Stonehenge. Pinpoints of diamond light appear in the air over the circle, winking on like stars.

The stones themselves begin to radiate violet beams—thin, sharp, and searching. The beams twist and curve as if alive, hunting.

Violet flame pours through the air like liquid light, washing over the shadows.

The Crevils panic.

They slither toward every crack of darkness they can find, but the violet rays follow, piercing their hiding places and eating them from the inside.

Tiny sparks of violet hail rain down. They pass straight through the teens’ outer forms and sink into their cores, loosening knots of energy.

One by one, students blink awake.

A tall boy gasps, eyes filling, then lifts his head. “O Hercules, thou Elohim,” he cries, “come and seal my being by might from Heaven above!”

A bolt of blue lightning slams down, blasting a Crevil out of him. A crystal shield snaps into place around him.

The expelled Crevil hurls itself at the boy, desperate to get back in, but crashes into the shield and bounces off. The impact knocks the boy against a stone, but he is unharmed inside his bubble.

He draws a shaking breath. “O Hercules, thou Elohim, purify and guard my being,” he calls.

The circle of stones now blazes with iridescent blue flame. It arcs overhead, forming a dome that traps the Crevils.

Legions of bright, shining angels dive through the dome like comets, swords drawn.

They attack.

Fiery blades slice through shadow. Crevils shriek as they are torn from their hosts and herded together. A giant net of white and violet energy appears, and the angels sweep the writhing creatures into it.

The bulging net rises, carried away toward a distant, roaring lake of mystic fire.

Silence slowly fills the empty spaces the screams leave behind.

The teens stand there, stunned and shaking, surrounded by ancient stones that now feel like witnesses.

Chapter 12: Evan Explains Why Forgiveness is Better Than Anger and Revenge Against Crevils

While Evan explains why forgiveness is better than anger and revenge against Crevils, the survivors gather themselves in the quiet dawn. The freed students drift into a loose circle.

Their auras are bruised but brightening.

Evan steps forward. No one chooses him. He just moves, and space opens.

“I’m Evan,” he says. “We’re from Scotland.” He gestures to Rev and Evelyn.

One by one, others share pieces of their stories—how they were contacted, what they were promised, how slowly they started feeling emptier but blamed stress and school.

The pattern is the same.

Foolishness hangs in the air, bitter and heavy.

“I doubt this was the only group,” Evan says at last. “They must be doing this all over the world. The Crevils are conquering people one quiet meeting at a time.”

He takes a breath. “I think we should form a club—a network—to free other students from their tricks.”

Murmurs rise.

“Yes. Yes. We agree,” several say at once. “Thank you for saving us. We weren’t even aware of what we were doing. A Crevil was acting in our place, making all our decisions.”

Rev clears his throat, voice still rough. “We can go public with this,” he says. “Tell the news stations. Post on social media. Expose the Crevils. People will be blown away.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “I doubt they’d believe us or care,” she says. “Most media is probably already influenced by Crevils. If we go loud now, they’ll attack us with everything they have. I think we need to act in secret and build an army of awake teens first.”

A boy next to her nods. “We feel like we just woke up from a coma,” he says. “We were fools to let ourselves be taken over. Sign us up. We want revenge. We hate them for what they did to us—and to our parents. I want the power to blast them into dust.”

“That’s not exactly kind,” Evelyn says dryly.

“They deserve torture,” another teen snaps. “Make them suffer for a thousand years before they die. Let them feel everything they made us feel. That’ll scare others into being good.”

“Wait,” Evan says, raising a hand. “I know you’re furious. But your anger, hatred, and revenge only feed them. That’s what they want.”

He looks around the circle, catching eyes.

“Our best weapon is forgiveness,” he says. “Even if they don’t deserve it. Torturing them would feel satisfying—for about five minutes. Then they would eat your rage and grow stronger. They feed on negative emotion.”

“We don’t care,” a girl snaps. “We’re so upset. They must pay. We’re free now. They don’t control us anymore. Crucify them! Make them pay!”

A chill runs through Evan at the word crucify—like an old echo waking up.

“Listen,” he says firmly. “I lived with a Crevil inside me for a day. I know how they think. They’d rather have you burning with anger on your own than locked down by them. They want you to be your own prison. If you spend the rest of your life hating them, they win. You think they lost, but right now, with this fury, they’re still getting exactly what they want.”

The circle quiets.

“Every hate‑filled thought and feeling ties you to them,” Evan says. “Until you take that energy back, they still have a hook in you.”

“We don’t care—” someone starts, then falters. “We… don’t… Wait. What did you say?”

Evan repeats, slower. “Your anger will help recreate them. Your hatred can bring them back from the ashes. Your revenge uses your own soul as the building material. You become their creator.”

Faces drain of color.

“We don’t want to be Crevil‑creators,” a boy whispers. “That’s worse than being possessed. How do we make them pay without making more of them?”

“I don’t know all the details,” Evan says honestly. “But I know it starts with forgiveness. If you don’t forgive, part of you begins to become what you hate. Acting non‑virtuously turns pieces of you into Crevil‑like energy. Acting virtuously strengthens and purifies you.”

He looks toward the sky where the angels vanished with the net.

“Through… call it ‘divine soul school,’” he says, “you can learn to direct powerful cosmic energy at Crevils—but not to get revenge. To free the trapped light inside them.

“The point isn’t to destroy the energy; it’s to clean it. Like washing dirty clothes—you remove the dirt, not burn the shirt.”

The teens stand in silence, letting the thought sink in.

The stones around them feel different now—less like a trap, more like walls of a strange, ancient classroom.

Far above the circle, the last flickers of violet fire fade from the sky, leaving it unnervingly clear.

Inside each teen, another kind of storm begins.

Not just fear of outside monsters.

But a new, unsettling question:

What am I secretly creating with my own anger?

It is the kind of question that does not end at Stonehenge.

It follows them home.

Chapter Synopsis:

After hearing a mysterious voice claiming to be a teenager named Tempter, Rev convinces Evan to join him for an astral travel mission to Stonehenge to meet a secret group of youths. Arriving at the ancient stone circle in their spirit bodies, they are tested by Tempter and tricked into inviting what they believe are controlled "Crevils" (dark parasitic entities) to temporarily possess them. While Rev is successfully deceived and possessed, Evan maintains a secret inner diamond-hard shield of light that keeps him self-aware. Back at home, Evelyn senses that something is wrong with her brothers and recruits Abby to astral-travel to Stonehenge to help save them. Once there, Evelyn and Abby fall into a similar trap, leading Abby to dissolve her protective aura and get possessed. Using an inner call to Archangel Michael, Evan casts the Crevil out of himself and initiates a call for the Violet Flame. Supported by legions of angels and a downpour of violet fire, the teens are freed, and the Crevils are swept away. Afterward, Evan warns the survivors that seeking revenge or harboring anger against the dark entities will only feed them, teaching his peers that forgiveness and spiritual purification are the true keys to overcoming their enemies.

Core Themes & Laws:

• The Danger of Untested Astral Curiosity: The perils of seeking out unverified spiritual groups and lowering auric defenses without proper discernment.

• The Mechanics of Possession: How dissolving one's protective shield and giving verbal permission allows parasitic Crevils to hijack a human body.

• The Shield of Awareness: The protective power of maintaining an inner core of consciousness, invoking Archangel Michael, and calling upon the Violet Flame.

• Starving the Darkness through Forgiveness: Why harboring anger and a desire for revenge against dark entities inadvertently provides them with the "tempter food" they need to survive and regenerate.

Key Entities Featured in this Document:

• Evan: A steadfast student who maintains his inner shield, calls upon Archangel Michael, and guides his peers toward forgiveness and spiritual purification.

• Rev: Evan's brother who gets tricked into possession at Stonehenge before being freed by the Violet Flame.

• Evelyn (Evy): Evan's perceptive sister who orchestrates the rescue mission with Abby and travels to Stonehenge in her spirit body.

• Abby: Evelyn's faithful friend who learns to leave her body, gets tricked into merging with a Crevil, and is ultimately liberated by celestial intervention.

• Tempter: An unseen, manipulative entity who orchestrates the trap at Stonehenge and preys on the curiosity of unshielded teens.

• Crevils: Greasy, smoke-like parasitic dark entities that feed on misused human energy and possess vulnerable human bodies.

• Archangel Michael: The celestial warrior whose blue flame and angelic legions defend the teens and herd the Crevils away.