The Ninth Hour of Malachi : SEASON 1

A Romanian Exorcism of an Ancient, Hungry Presence | SEASON 1: When a Demon Knows Your Mother's Name

By Tales That Breathe at NightPublished 4 days ago • 6 min read

Ana Popescu, a woman afflicted by a demonic entity, is seen in a shadowy cell. Her posture and expression are not her own, suggesting an ancient, malevolent intelligence staring out from behind her eyes

Season 1

Chapter 1

Excerpt from the private diary of Father Sorin, Novice Exorcist. Entry dated October 14th, 2003. Location: The Monastery of the Silent Veil, Bucegi Mountains, Romania.

The air here doesn't just feel cold; it feels old. Not the gentle age of stone, but the grinding, malevolent age of something that has existed too long without light.

I arrived at the Monastery of the Silent Veil this morning, sent by the Archdiocese to assist Father Pavel, a man renowned for his faith but notorious for his isolation. The mission is simple: aid in the protracted exorcism of a local woman, Ana Popescu, who has been afflicted for nearly six months.

A young novice exorcist, Father Sorin, meets the weary and ancient Father Pavel in a dark, stone corridor of a remote monastery. The atmosphere is thick with unspoken dread and centuries of isolation

I was told this was a demonic entity; I suspect it is a siege. The sun sets at four here, and the cold bites through my vestments like a razor.

Father Pavel greeted me with a weary shake of the hand and a look that held centuries of unspoken weariness. He didn't ask my name. He simply pointed to the lower chapel. "She's been moved. The creature is sensitive to the light."

Elias: "How long has it been since she showed any sign of Ana?"

Pavel: "Six weeks. Only the creature speaks now. It is strong, young Father. Strong and ancient. It knows the prayers before I can utter them."

Chapter 2

BROKEN DOCUMENTED FACT: Ancient monastery records from the 17th century mention a severe outbreak of 'mind sickness' in the surrounding villages, often accompanied by convulsions and glossolalia. The entries stop abruptly after the name "Malachi" is scrawled across three pages in a dried, black substance. The text never resumes.

Ana Popescu, a woman afflicted by a demonic entity, is seen in a shadowy cell. Her posture and expression are not her own, suggesting an ancient, malevolent intelligence staring out from behind her eyes

I found Ana in a small, damp cell beneath the chapel. She was restrained on an iron bed, her body contorted into a grotesque arch. Her eyes were open, but they were not Ana’s.

A chilling view of a lower chapel or cellar, where a single, dusty shaft of cold light pierces the darkness from a high, barred window, illuminating stone pillars and deep shadows

They were a vivid, demonic yellow, fixed on the ceiling. The air in the cell was thick with the suffocating smell of sulfur and something else...a foul, rotting sweetness, like lilies left to decay.

Sorin: "Ana? Can you hear me?"

Ana Popescu, over here her posture and expression are not her own

The stillness shattered. A voice, deep and resonant, a profound, soul-deep grief that seemed to come from the very stones, answered.

The Entity: "I know your mother's prayers, Sorin. She still prays for you."

A chilling wave of terror washed over me. Only Father Pavel and the Archbishop knew my mother’s name. This creature wasn't just in Ana; it was in the very fabric of this place, reading the priests as easily as the hymns on the altar.

A close-up of a crumbling, 17th-century monastery ledger. The elegant script detailing an outbreak of 'mind sickness' is violently interrupted by the name "MALACHI" scrawled in a thick, black, tar-like substance across multiple pages

Sorin: "You are a liar. You speak only the words of the Father of Lies."

The Entity: "He lies only to those who believe they are saved. I merely state the truth of your doubt. Do you remember the fire, Sorin? Do you remember the screams?"

The entity had struck a vein of deep personal trauma, turning the small room into a psychological battlefield. I gripped my crucifix so tightly my knuckles went white, fighting the sudden, dizzying memory of my childhood home consumed by flames.

Chapter 3

FATHER PAVEL’S PRIVATE JOURNAL: Entry dated November 1st, 2003. The entity reacts violently to the sight of my rosary, but the Holy Water merely evaporates, leaving a puff of dry smoke. We are dealing with an elemental form of evil, one tied to the earth, not the underworld. We must not attempt the major rite until we know its origin.

The girl is weak. Her heart rate drops to zero for minutes at a time. We are running out of time.

I stepped back, breathing heavily. The attack was swift, psychological, and devastatingly precise. Father Pavel had warned me the entity was "ancient," but this was something else. This was a consciousness that transcended time, a horror that had merely been lying dormant, waiting for an opportunity.

Pavel: "See? It feeds on your regret, not your sin. This is its genius."

Sorin: "It spoke of my mother, Father. My childhood fire. How can a demon know such things?"

Pavel: "Because it is not a demon, Sorin. Demons tempt. They offer choice. This creature, Malachi, it consumes. It is the spiritual rot of this place, born from centuries of fear and forgotten worship. It is a hunger that wears a soul like a coat."

Pavel began reciting an ancient Latin prayer, a prayer not for exorcism, but for protection against psychic intrusion. As the words left his lips, the creature in Ana's body began to shriek, a profound, mournful lament that seemed to shake the very foundations of the monastery. But the entity's eyes remained fixed on me, the vivid yellow growing brighter, focusing its full, terrifying hatred on the new priest.

Chapter 4

FATHER PAVEL’S PRIVATE JOURNAL: Entry dated November 2nd, 2003. The entity's attacks are now tailored. It strikes at the precise moment of greatest doubt. Sorin's inexperience is a vulnerability, but his faith is a cleaner fire than my own. I must use his strength. We require the Cyprian Relic....the small, unblessed wooden cross stored in the sacristy...to shield his mind.

Father Pavel’s protection prayer bought a moment of brittle silence, but the air remained charged with a palpable hostility. Malachi had identified Sorin as the weaker point, the younger priest with the fresh scars of regret.

The entity was relentless, using the silence to flood Sorin's mind with nightmarish visions of the fire that had consumed his childhood home, overlaying Ana's contorted face onto the faces of his family.

Sorin: "It's inside my head, Father. The memories... they're screaming."

Pavel: "Hold the line, Sorin! Do not give it purchase! Your regret is not your sin. It is merely a hook it uses to reel you in."

The Entity (A chorus of weeping voices): "Your mother burns for you, Sorin. You watched. You prayed. And you were spared. Why? Why were you spared the flame?"

Sorin stumbled back, clutching his temples. He was paralyzed, unable to speak the necessary prayers. Pavel, recognizing the psychic paralysis, moved swiftly. He knew they could not win this battle of wills using standard holy implements. He needed a tool to ground Sorin's consciousness, a weapon against Malachi's telepathic siege.

Pavel: "We must leave the girl for now. We need the Cyprian Relic from the sacristy. It is a crude defense, but it is unburdened by ceremony. It will serve as a lightning rod for your focus. Move now, before it locks the door."