SEASON 2: THE RECITATION
When the Quran Recites You Back - A True Islamic Possession Horror Finale
CHAPTER 6: THE THIRTEENTH AYAH
The black liquid pooling from Saad’s throat wasn’t blood. It was thicker, darker, moving with purpose across the floorboards like spilled ink drawn by unseen fingers. Mehvish watched in paralyzed horror as it formed shapes....not Arabic, but older. Jagged. Cuneiform.
The maulvi’s corpse lay twisted in the hallway, his white thobe now a canvas of rust-brown stains. His lips had been sewn shut with meticulous precision, the threadwork unmistakable...miswak fibers, pulled taut through flesh. The stitching spelled something:
"ٱسْكُتْ"
Be silent.
Mehvish's phone screen shattered suddenly, glass shards skittering across the floor before rearranging themselves into glowing Arabic:
"ٱقْرَأْ بِٱسْمِ رَبِّكَ ٱلَّذِى خَلَقَ... وَٱسْجُدْ لِمَنْ خَلَقَكَ"
Read. In the name of your Lord who created... And prostrate to the one who created you.
The last word...."khalaqak"....pulsed, the "kaf" stretching unnaturally long.
Then the walls breathed.
A voice emerged, warped and layered, echoing from every surface at once:
"I am the first reciter," it whispered in Mehvish’s own voice, but wrong, like a recording played backward. "The house is my throat. You are my tongue."
The floorboards beneath her rippled. Something pressed upward against the wood, straining to break through.
Mehvish stumbled back, her heel crushing the maulvi’s spectacles. The lenses cracked, revealing not glass, but thin layers of skin stretched transparent.
From the kitchen, the fridge door creaked open.
Inside, every shelf dripped with the same black liquid.
And the miswak twigs....hundreds of them....had begun to twitch.
CHAPTER 7: THE BROKEN RUQYA
Adil, the last surviving madrasa student, pressed his back against the front door, his hifz Quran clutched to his chest like a shield. His lips moved soundlessly, rehearsing Surah Baqarah.
"ʾAlif Lām Mīm. Dhālika l-kitābu lā rayba fīh..."
He barely reached verse 102 when his tongue seized.
Mehvish watched in horror as the muscle darkened, blackening from tip to root like charring paper. Adil gagged, fingers clawing at his mouth as his recitation dissolved into wet, guttural sounds.
The tiles beneath him peeled upward, revealing:
Teeth....human, child-sized....embedded in the foundation, arranged in perfect rows like a macabre mosaic.
Fingernails....small, delicate....scraping against the exposed subfloor, writing in thick yellow pus:
"ادْخُلُوا"
Enter.
The maulvi’s tasbeeh beads, now transformed...each wooden sphere replaced by a molar, strung together with glistening sinew.
Mehvish pressed her ear to the wall.
From within the plaster came a sound....a recitation so rapid it blurred into a single, endless word. The entire Quran in three seconds flat.
Then laughter.
High. Giggling. A child’s.
The bathroom faucet turned on by itself. The water ran black.
CHAPTER 8: THE FINAL SHAHADA
Saad’s body convulsed, his spine arching unnaturally until a sickening crack split the air. His ribs splayed outward, bones tearing through skin like grotesque wings.
Within the cavity of his chest:
33 miswak twigs, tied into a noose that tightened on its own.
A cassette tape, its label handwritten in shaky Arabic:
"Recitation: Do Not Play."
Mehvish’s fingers trembled as she pressed it into the dusty player.
The moment she hit play, her own voice screamed:
"Lā ilāha illā huwa!"
There is no god but He!
A pause. Static. Then:
"But ‘huwa’ isn’t Allah here."
The walls split, bleeding thick, honey-like fluid. The ceiling peeled back like the lid of a grotesque jar.
Above them, in the now-exposed darkness, something stirred.
Thousands of eyes opened at once, each pupil reflecting a different Arabic letter.
The voice that emerged was neither human nor jinn....but the house itself:
"Iqra’ bismi rabbika alladhī khalaq..."
Read. In the name of your Lord who created...
A pause. Then, with terrible finality:
"...you."
The floor lurched. The walls contracted.
The house swallowed.
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Comments (2)
This was beyond horror—it was sacred dread. The Quran reciting you back, walls chanting divine verses with distorted reverence... it's not just paranormal, it's theological terror. And that last line? 'The house swallowed.' That shook me.
This is some seriously creepy stuff. The idea of the black liquid forming cuneiform and the phone acting up is straight out of a nightmare. Can't wait to see what happens next.