The moment Maya stepped into the wide foyer, she froze.

  Ezekiel Balthazar stood right there—close enough to touch. No time to hide, no time to think.

  He wore an expensive suit—the kind he reserved for visiting his most devoted followers. The faint scent of cologne and rain still clung to him. Clearly, he had just returned from one such visit.

  Nearly two meters tall, with shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair, amethyst eyes, and a ghostly pale complexion, Ezekiel looked like a figure carved from marble—if marble could breathe.

  His eyes widened the instant he saw her. His whole body locked, as though even the act of breathing had been momentarily forgotten.

  “Maya…? Impossible! I killed you. It’s been two weeks! How are you here!?”

  No joy. No relief. No gladness at seeing a supposedly dead daughter alive.

  Only panic. Labored breathing. And a fevered madness burning behind his bloodshot eyes.

  Maya felt nothing in return. No fear, no warmth—only a deep, steady loathing.

  She had just run into the last person she ever wanted to see.

  Now she had one problem: how to get out alive.

  Ezekiel’s stare was that of a man watching a vengeful corpse claw its way out of the grave—then, abruptly, he smiled.

  “No… this is a joyous occasion. It must have simply taken longer in your case. That means I was right to choose you. This is divine instruction—to deepen our bond as father and daughter. Maya, if you are truly my child, then surely you understand the teachings of God… the love of God… and my love too, yes?”

  It was the same gentle expression he showed his followers—masking the rot beneath.

  (Why does he always twist reality like this—reshape it into whatever suits him?)

  Her stomach churned.

  “This is divine revelation. You are the chosen one! My future of love and glory has been blessed by God Himself!”

  Spreading his arms, trembling with excitement, Ezekiel stepped forward.

  “Come, Maya… let us be one again. In divine love.”

  A blissful, almost holy smile distorted his lips.

  “Not a chance.”

  Maya’s voice came out low, flat, and cold.

  “I’m leaving. What you call love is nothing but obsession. Control.”

  She drew in a breath, then let it out slowly.

  “…It was abuse. Nothing more.”

  Her ice-blue eyes locked onto his, unblinking.

  She had never dared to speak to him like this before. But now…

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  She had already died once at his hands. There was no point in holding back.

  Something deep inside her had awakened, and with it, the courage to face him.

  Ezekiel’s face warped grotesquely. Wrinkles dug into his brow, his mouth twisting. The light fled from half his features, leaving only shadow—the face he never showed to his followers.

  Only Maya had seen the true face.

  Maya wasn’t Ezekiel’s biological daughter.

  She was born to a mother who had endured domestic abuse long before Maya’s birth. Even after, Maya grew up in constant fear, watching the violence firsthand.

  When Maya was eight, her mother finally left her abuser—to protect Maya.

  That was why Maya loved her.

  But her mother, perhaps too sincere, too trusting, eventually fell under the sway of a new faith.

  When Maya was ten, her mother joined a religious group.

  There, she met Ezekiel—the charismatic branch leader.

  Handsome, confident, persuasive.

  Her mother accepted his courtship with joy.

  He treated Maya kindly, patting her head, hugging her. His frequent touches made her uneasy, but seeing her mother happy was enough for her.

  When Maya was twelve, her mother and Ezekiel married. The wedding was lavish—sponsored by the church.

  Maya sang the hymns proudly, celebrating their union.

  That happiness lasted barely a month.

  Without even a honeymoon, her mother died in a car accident. An unexplained crash. Officially: drowsy driving. But she had no reason to be in that part of town.

  No one could explain it.

  The life insurance went to Ezekiel.

  As Maya trembled in shock, he embraced her tightly.

  “We’ll live on in her place. Together.”

  She sobbed and nodded into his chest.

  That night, while she slept, Ezekiel sipped brandy and smiled to himself.

  “That woman who learned the truth is now safe in God’s arms. All that remains is to see if Maya is compatible. And so far… everything’s going perfectly.”

  His face shone with twisted joy.

  Ezekiel often visited children’s shelters and immigration centers—places where abandoned and abused kids were common.

  Nordica’s immigration policies had led to poverty and rising child neglect.

  Lumen Dei, his religious group, offered aid where the government failed.

  Maya began volunteering with him in middle school.

  She wasn’t naturally social, but other kids from Lumen Dei were there too.

  That’s how she met Sophia.

  She was Maya’s age—14—and radiantly cheerful.

  Long platinum-blonde hair, wide gray eyes, and a face that drew attention.

  Sophia admired Ezekiel and had wanted to be Maya’s friend for a long time. Somehow, they clicked instantly.

  Sophia was also from a single-parent home, father absent. Before long, they were inseparable.

  “You’re pretty popular, huh Maya?”

  “I’ve had a few confessions, sure. But I’ve never dated anyone. You?”

  “I’ve got a boyfriend now. But guys are the worst, seriously.”

  “The worst?”

  “They only talk about themselves, never listen, and their kissing? Ugh. Tongues everywhere.”

  “Hah. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time.”

  “If they suck at kissing, you can bet they suck at everything else too. Idiots.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “I think he’s cheating.”

  “…That’s awful. You should dump him. You can do way better.”

  Ezekiel watched them with a pleasant smile, taking Sophia’s hand. She looked thrilled.

  At home, Maya did all the chores—cooking, laundry, cleaning. Her mother was gone, after all.

  She also bathed with Ezekiel. It felt strange, but Sophia said she used to bathe with her father too, so Maya convinced herself it was normal.

  Ezekiel often spent hours in the basement “praying.” Maya figured he was simply devout.

  She entered a Lumen Dei–affiliated high school nearby. Ezekiel was pleased.

  Sophia enrolled as well. Maya was happy.

  Her days felt peaceful. She turned seventeen.

  But peace never lasts.

  Sophia became distant, wrapped up in her relationship. Maya missed her, but stayed silent—she wanted her friend to be happy.

  She didn’t even know who Sophia was dating.

  Then—Sophia died.

  No suicide note. Just a fall from a building downtown.

  Thanks for sticking with Maya’s journey.

  Chapter 2 is a heavy one—but it lays the foundation for what’s to come. Things are about to escalate.

  Thank you for reading this far.In the next chapter, Maya walks into the dark place where it all began.And not all of her will walk back out.

  → Chapter 3: Buried Memories, Awakened Wrath — Live now.

  check out my Substack article here:

  https://open.substack.com/pub/knishi2050/p/why-i-wrote-hells-returners?r=5wfkgu&utm_medium=ios)